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Into The Long Dark	By : Wolfiekins Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 12558 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 20
- 21
- 22
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never will be. All HP characters belong to JK and Warner Brothers, etc, etc, etc. Rael,Yuri, & Tommy belong to me.

A/N: The events in this fic take place after Book 6.

Beta'd by Evil Auntie Snape with additional work from DreamPet.

My heartfelt thanks to all the fantastic, wonderful readers on AffNet! Especially those select few (you know who you are) that leave so many lovely reviews! It means so much to me, and I don't have words to say how much I appreciate your feedback! You are the everything, and my greatest hope is to keep you interested and entertained as we journey down this twisted little path! Peace! -- Wolfie
~~~~~~TWENTY ONE~~~~~~~~~DARKER THAN THE BLACKEST NIGHT~~~~~~

Monday, 11 August 1997

Rael leaned on the wide windowsill, pushing his head and torso through the sheer, billowing curtains and into the wonderfully warm, yet cooling breeze. The air felt marvelous on his heated, sweat-slicked naked skin. It was amazing how much these simple sensations were amplified by The Dark Gift. Everything was magnified, more intense, somehow more real. After nearly thirty years as a vampire, Rael still reveled in the intoxicating symphony of sensation that even now was thrumming through his entire body.

The slight breeze had depth, a flavour, a sort of sentience that seemed to enjoy winding its way over and around his naked flesh. The moon glowed knowingly down upon him, the color and texture and sound of the pale blue light teasing his ears with its song. He breathed in the essence of the city, dim and dingy, all grime and soot, but still deliciously ripe and mossy and sweet.

He had never known how much there was to the world. So many layers, so many shades. So many things that lived and moved and schemed just outside the vision of so-called normal life. Most mortals were blissfully oblivious to the true world that surrounded them. And those few that could sense the greater reality were without fail deemed unstable or demented.

But now Rael belonged to the shadows. He swam in them, permitted to partake of the full spectrum of life. With the exultation of the Light, so came the oppressiveness of the Dark. And with it the never ending struggle to find the evasive, tenuous balance between the two.

The vampire chuckled softly to himself as a lone car arrowed down the narrow street below and a dog raised a barking alarm off in the distance. The lights of the city splayed out beyond the low rooftops of the apartment blocks across the street. The playful breeze stirred the leaves of the trees to whisper a quiet chant of mid-summer's contentment.

Rael inhaled deeply, the moist air filling his dead lungs.

It still felt good to draw breath.

A pair of calloused hands snaked around the tall vampire, eagerly caressing the taut skin of Rael's stomach and hips. Tommy pressed his own damp nakedness against his Master, gently grinding himself into Rael. The older vampire pushed against Tommy, sighing with pleasure.

"You never cease to amaze me, Thomas. Your appetite is amazing. I must say that you exhaust me."

Tommy snickered as he nibbled the flesh of Rael's shoulders. The youngling carefully bit through the surface of the skin, hungrily lapping at the quickly forming drops of blood.

"Oh, yeah, I just love it when you talk like some old monster movie. Keep it up old man, and we'll be going for three times tonight."

The shorter vampire growled deeply as he pushed his still hard erection into the crevice of Rael's slim arse. Tommy moved to a fresh bit of skin at the nape of Rael's neck. He bit down hard, driving his fangs deeply into Rael.

The Master bucked backwards, his nails digging into the wood of the sill. Rael threw his head back, hissing in ecstasy as his youngling eagerly drew out his lifeblood. Rael's flagging cock was instantly at attention, throbbing with his impending release. Tommy was grinding his prick savagely against his Master, sending his fangs still deeper into Rael's body. Hot blood spilled down the older vampire's back as his youngling suckled greedily.

Both vampires keened shrilly, Rael about to orgasm. Tommy suddenly ripped his fangs from his Master's flesh. Rael spun about, pulling the smaller vampire up off of the floor and into a crushing embrace. Tommy growled angrily as Rael sank his fangs into the flesh of his chest. The youngling thrashed wildly, pressing his hard cock into Rael's stomach. With a final drive of his fangs into his youngling, Rael came, spilling his cold seed. Tommy moaned, digging his fingers into his Master's shoulder blades as he smothered the top of Rael's head with kisses. A second later, the young vampire shot his own jets of come, coating Rael's chest and chin in the cool, thick spunk.

The two creatures of darkness writhed together, their bodies sliding effortlessly, cool skin on skin. Rael pulled his fangs out of the young vampire, swiftly pressing his lips to the Mark and lapping and laving hungrily at Tommy's delicious blood. A few seconds later, the bite marks were gone. Rael dropped Tommy to the floor, roughly cupping the back of the young vampire's neck and kissing the red-head's forehead before releasing him.

Tommy struggled to regain his balance, grinning widely. He stood there, running his hand over his spunk coated stomach. As Rael reached down and pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, Tommy licked and sucked the come off of his fingers with relish.

"Fuck old man, you still got it going on. Care to go for four?"

Tommy licked his lips lewdly, wiping his hand over his chest and loudly sucking away at the last bits of blood that came away on his fingers. Rael pulled on a pair of jeans and sat on the large bed. His youngling stood there, in the middle of the floor, striking a pose in the sliver of moonlight that washed in through the billowing curtains.

Rael smiled, shaking his head.

"Sorry, but you've pushed me to the limit. I might actually have to feed again for all that you've drained from me tonight."

Tommy chuckled as he padded across the floor, sitting down next to his Master with a sigh.

"Ready for the old vamp's home, I guess," the young vampire sneered. "Shit, Rael, I'm still horny. Well, if you can't get it up anymore tonight, I guess I'll have to go out and see what I can scare up at the club."

Tommy made to get up but Rael clasped a strong hand on the youngling's upper arm, forcing him back down into the bed.

"I don't think so, Thomas. You've fed more than enough this evening. And considering what the Wizards have been up to, I think it's best to stay in for the remainder of the night."

Tommy rolled his eyes, flopping backwards onto the bed with a disgusted snort.

"Yeah, whatever, Herbert. You're the man."

Tommy turned his head and pointed his finger at his black bikini briefs lying on the floor by the window.

"Accio briefs," he muttered.

The underclothes shot straight into his hand. As Tommy stood up to pull them on, Rael stared at him with wide, grey eyes.

"Since when have you been able to do that? Wandless Magic is very advanced and not easily mastered," the older vampire observed with an accusatory tone.

Tommy laughed out loud as he let the waistband of his briefs snap against his skin.

"What's the matter, Herbert? Jealous that I can do something you can't? I've tasted a few Wizards myself, you know. Maybe I've picked up a few things along the way."

The young vampire turned away to scan for his jeans when Rael pointed his own finger directly at Tommy's back.

"Crucio," he stated flatly.

The youngling tensed immediately, his body spasming violently as his legs collapsed out from under him. Tommy fell to the polished floor with a sickening thud, writhing in pain, his mouth open wide, gasping for air. Rael continued the curse a few moments longer before allowing his hand to drop to the bedspread. Tommy fell still immediately, his slim chest heaving up and down as he fought to draw in air. After a few minutes, the young vampire sat up, his face frowning with fury.

"What the fuck was that about? I'm getting sick of this bi-polar bullshit! I've got half a mind to...."

The next instant, Rael was kneeling next to Tommy on the floor, his face a scant few inches from the young vampire's.

"That's precisely the problem. You don't think about anything!" the larger vampire hissed angrily. "I've tried to teach you what I know. I've tried to help you see things in a different way. And the harder I try, the more insolent and unappreciative you become. I knew from that start that you were far too young to turn, but I had no choice. My patience is at an end, Thomas. You have a decision to make."

"Aww, Rael, not the same old speech again."

The older vampire remained silent, staring at his youngling impassively.

Tommy held the gaze for a few seconds before looking down at the floor.

"Let's see. I must be a good little vampire and behave and listen to everything you tell me to do."

Rael nodded.

"Or else I have to leave and never come back"

Rael shook his head. Tommy blinked. The older vampire ran his hand up the smooth, silky flesh of Tommy's chest, gently moving upwards to caress the skin of the younger vampire's throat.

"No, not exactly, Thomas. From this point forward, you will do as I say. Events are progressing quickly, and I cannot have you running wildly about. You will follow my instructions to the letter. If you do not, I shall be forced to consign you to oblivion. I would regret having to do that immensely, but I will. "

Rael deftly clasped his strong fingers around Tommy's throat. The youngling stared at him blankly.

"For real? You'd actually kill me?"

The Master nodded slowly, tightening his grip on Tommy's throat. The young vampire swallowed, his hazel eyes suddenly leaking cold tears.

"Please, Rael," he whispered. "I'll do my best. I'll try, I really will."

Rael cocked his head, his expression dangerous. Tommy's eyes went wide, his voice louder, pleading.

"But I can't promise you something that I know is impossible. I'm a fuck-up. I always was. That's why I ended up here, in that fucking alley with you. I'll mess up. I always do. But I'll try. If that's not good enough for you, then just fucking do it now and get it over with, OK?"

Tommy began to choke as Rael tightened his fingers a bit more. After a moment, the Master released the young vampire. Rael turned towards the bed, flopping down on it heavily. His youngling coughed and hacked, massaging his throat. The imprints of Rael's fingers were plainly visible on the fair skin of Tommy's neck.

The young vampire stood up, clearing his throat and wiping the tears from his cheeks. Tommy retrieved his jeans and pulled them on. With a quick glance at Rael, Tommy leaned on the windowsill, staring out into the succulent, dark night.

The red-head snuffled as the curtains billowed and danced about him in the fresh, warm breeze.

"I can remember the first time I saw you. Man, you looked fucking incredible. I thought to myself, 'Well, Tommy, there he is. Go for it'. And I did. I would have fallen for you even if you weren't a vampire, Rael. I just want you to know that I didn't do it out of desperation. Because I was some dumb American kid, lost and alone, down to my last few dollars. You weren't just another trick. I need you to know that I really fell for you. That I loved you, Rael. Fuck, what sappy bullshit, huh?"

The young vampire drew in a deep breath, burying his chin in his chest.

"Sometimes I wish you never saved me. You should have just let me die in that alley. More proof that you shouldn't fuck with fate."

Both vampires remained silent for many minutes as the soft, busy sounds of the city wafted into the moon-washed room. Rael watched his youngling in the open window, a slim, dark silhouette against the bright night sky.

"You know full well I couldn't just leave you there. I couldn't, Tommy. I had no choice but to turn you," the older vampire responded softly.

Tommy made a rude noise.

"Oh, please, Rael. I wouldn't want you to bust a gut or something by admitting that you actually felt something for me. What is it you always say? Some nonsense about free will and a world of options? Fuck, you shoved your will down my throat and took away all my options, forcing me down this dark path. I suppose your philosophical bullshit applies only to you, huh?. Everyone else is left dangling in the breeze."

Rael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I honestly thought I was giving you a choice, Tommy. An alternative to certain death. If you chose to squander the Gift, that's your affair. And should you really find your existence unbearable, I'm sure you know to rectify that situation. I hoped you would see the endless possibilities that are before us. Much more than hunting and feeding and killing. We have a chance to do something very positive here. Think about how you feel after you've fed on a Wizard. Can't you see the difference?"

Tommy remained silent, staring out the window. Rael continued.

"You've figured it out, haven't you?"

Tommy nodded. "Yeah, I think so. When we feed on a Wizard, we get some of their power. Does it last?"

"No, the new abilities always fade, sometimes in hours, sometimes in days. It depends on the vampire."

The youngling turned to stare at his Master's dark form on the bed.

"So if you kept feeding on the same Wizard, you'd basically have all the magical abilities he has? That's fucking amazing Rael. Now I understand what you see in that green-eyed runt."

Rael sat up, gesturing Tommy over to the bed.

"It's not a very well-known ability. Haven't you ever wondered why Wizards are so against vampires? Because they know the great threat we pose to their carefully balanced little world. The Ministry has made certain that the handful of vampire attacks on Wizards have been covered up. It's hard to tell how many there have actually been. And only the upper echelons of the Wizarding World know this little secret. But somehow, that maniac Riddle discovered it, and is playing hard and fast by turning his own followers into our kind."

Tommy sat down next to Rael, snuggling closely against his Master.

"Yeah, yeah, you've told me all about this Riddle guy and Harry Potter and the all that stuff about the Wizarding World. But I don't see why we should give two shits whether they all kill each other or not. No matter who comes out on top, we'll still be here. Always."

Rael shook his head, sighing.

"Just think a moment, Tommy. After tonight, it will be nearly impossible for The Ministry to keep the secret of vampire and lycan Death Eaters. Word will spread through the general Wizarding population. And what do you think the reaction is going to be? The solution to the vampire problem?"

Tommy thought a moment, finally drawing in a deep breath. When he looked up at Rael, his hazel eyes burned brightly.

"Oh, fuck...."

Rael snorted. "Yes, exactly. There will be an explosion of animosity towards our kind, the likes of which hasn't been seen for centuries. We shall be hunted and put down, regardless of our Wizarding affiliations. And it will be the same for the werewolves. Anger and fear are a most dangerous combination, and Riddle has loosed both upon the Wizarding World in great abundance. He is a madman, and must be stopped at all costs."

"And that's why you're after Potter? To try to bring him over to us? I don't get how that will help a whole hell of a lot."

Rael sighed and dropped back down to the soft coverlet. Tommy paused a moment before joining him, snickering.

"It's more than that with him, isn't it? You want Potter for yourself, regardless of how this whole mess turns out."

The youngling studied his Master's expression. Rael blinked, turning his face away from Tommy.

"Shit, old man, you're fucking in love with him!"

"I don't expect you to understand," the Master breathed smoothly. "I may be a creature of the night, but I still have feelings, Tommy. There's nothing wrong with that. And yes, I think I may be in love with Harry. It's more than the fact that he's the most powerful Wizard in an age. His soul calls to me. Even now, I can sense him. It's been so long since I felt this way. But even if Harry and I become one, you will always be mine, Thomas."

The young vampire yawned, throwing his thin arm across Rael's chest.

"Well, all I can say is, I hope Potter likes threesomes. He's not my type, but I wouldn't kick him out of the sack. And for your information, old man, I understand something about love. There was a time when I gave my heart to someone, only to have it tossed out with the trash. So forgive me if I don't get all weepy just now. Let me know what you want me to do and when. I'm just getting real tired of all this Mission: Impossible bullshit. It's really cramping my cruising."

Rael snickered. "That's my Tommy. Always thinking about his next lay. At least you're honest about it. So what about Neville?"

"You mean Sherlock? He's sort of cute. Needs to get his teeth fixed. Tastes great, though. I've never had anyone like him before. I figured I'd feed off of him for awhile. He's really powerful. And a little strange. There's something more to him, deep down and hidden. I don't think he even knows it's there."

Rael ran his hand over Tommy's smooth, taut stomach.

"What do you mean?" the Master asked nonchalantly.

"Like I said, there's something else there. Something dark. Darker than us. Lurking about, awake, ready to strike. I dunno. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. I'll let you know what happens the next time I'm hungry."

Rael paused a long moment. He pushed himself fully into the bed, letting his head sink down into the soft nest of pillows at the headboard.

"Yes. I would very much like to know what happens the next time you and Neville get together. Be careful. He's very close to Harry. Don't do anything foolish."

Tommy scooted closer, nestling against his Master. He was now yawning deeply.

"Damn, and I was planning on doing something really stupid! Wow, thanks for the reality check, Herbert. And the trust, dude. Really."

A moment later, the young vampire was asleep.

Rael lay there, wide awake, his mind racing. Events would begin moving swiftly from now on. His role would soon be revealed. The time had come for the next phase of his plan. It was risky. But it was the only way to save himself and stop the impending destruction of his kind. It all depended on Harry and his friends.

If Rael had somehow misjudged them, then all hope was lost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yuri gently closed the bedroom door, leaning back against it, smiling. Remus was busying himself with putting away the stocky lycan's clothes. The slim werewolf was neatly filling the drawers of an unused dresser. He absently stared at a pair of dingy socks. Both had holes in the heels. Remus tossed them onto a rather large pile of apparently rejected underclothes. Finished with Yuri's pack, Remus started on the large trunk, transferring Yuri's shirts to the wardrobe. A few more garments ended up on the pile.

The dark-haired werewolf folded his arms and chuckled warmly.

"At this rate, I won't have anything left to wear."

Remus spun about quickly, looking for all the world like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A sly grin spread across his face.

"Hmmm. That truly would be a shame," the thin lycan responded wryly. "Really, Yuri. There's no reason to run about in socks riddled with holes. They're readily available and quite inexpensive."

Yuri snickered, moving across the room to embrace his partner.

"Is all right, Moony. I do need plenty of clothes. Not much call for nice stuff in the wilds of Slovenia. Perhaps you will go shopping with me for new wardrobe, yes?"

The slim lycan sighed as Yuri encircled him with his muscular arms. Remus kissed his lover on the forehead.

"It would be my pleasure, Janowicz. I must warn you, I am quite a stickler for making sure that the prospective buyer tries everything on. And I must check on the fit personally."

"Hmmm," Yuri purred, "Does that include underwear?"

"Especially underwear," Remus growled, pressing his groin against his lover's.

The two werewolves hungrily mashed their lips together, their breath coming on as hot, gasping moans. Yuri gripped his lover tightly, running a hand down the slim lycan's back to massage Remus' slim arse firmly. Both werewolves were quickly becoming aroused. The taller lycan whimpered, eagerly grasping Yuri's face with both hands. Remus gently pulled his lips away from the stocky lycan's.

"I'm glad you're here, Yuri. I didn't realize how much I missed you."

The muscular Slovenian sighed, laying his head on Remus' shoulder.

"No place I'd rather be, Moony. I'm sorry I waited so long."

"Don't be sorry, love," Remus whispered. "We're together now, that's what counts. And the boys need us. More than ever, it seems. How are they doing?"

Yuri gave his taller lover a playful nip on the ear as he pulled away, peeling his tight sweatshirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. The Slovenian put his hands behind his head, leaning back and stretching his upper body seductively.

"All down for the evening. Harry's fine. Wormroot's Sleeping Draught is a killer. She's some Mediwitch. Neville was dead to world as well. I put up double wards on his room. He's not going anywhere tonight. We need to keep close eye on him, Moony. I know you sensed it, too."

Remus nodded as he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, draping it over a chair.

"Yes, a bit more than your average vampire Mark at work. Something very dark and malevolent. It was pulsing out of him in waves."

Yuri blew out a breath as he shucked his jeans, tossing them onto the reject pile.

"It's not good, Moony. Is all starting to make sense to me now. What we saw on road to Eisen, remember? The two young Death Eaters were vampires, I'm certain of it. That explains the Daywalker and what he's really doing for Riddle. And since he failed to recruit any of our kind persuasively, I'm willing to bet that Riddle has started turning some of his followers into lycans also. Very bad business. Bestowing Dark Gifts on sick, twisted and demented persons always leads to disaster."

The tall werewolf was silently staring at Yuri's discarded jeans.

"I was thinking the same thing, Yuri. But I prayed to Circe that I was wrong. Riddle's getting desperate. I'm convinced that we will succeed in destroying him, but the cost will be horrendous." Remus nodded at the recently discarded jeans. "What was wrong with those?"

The stocky lycan shrugged.

"They were out in the crotch. I suppose I'll have to get some new ones."

Remus unbuttoned his corduroy slacks and pushed them down.

"Indeed. I look forward to fitting you, love."

The thin lycan moved to his mate, running his long fingers across Yuri's broad, furry chest.

"And what of Draco?"

Yuri held up his hands. "He is asleep as well. Not seriously injured as far as I could tell. He had a few cuts and bruises. I healed them."

The stocky werewolf paused long enough for Remus cock his head to one side.

"What else, Yuri?"

"He carries the Dark Mark, Moony," Yuri stated flatly.

"I saw that. But he's not a killer. I know it."

The Slovenian shrugged again.

"As you say, Moony. So much darkness here. Makes the old forest look like some sort of playground. Things will look better in light of day, I think. We should be turning Malfoy over to The Order, yes?"

Remus shook his head as he turned down the covers on the huge, old four-poster.

"I think we should hear what Draco has to say first. He was my student for a year. We'll see how much he's changed. He had a rough time of it growing up with those parents of his. It can't have been easy."

"Still is no excuse for what he did last year at Hogwarts," Yuri reminded him. "Even though he didn't actually kill Dumbledore, your Headmaster is dead because of his actions. And Draco and Snape escaped together. Might be best to let The Ministry handle this, Moony. You are too soft, sometimes."

"But he didn't kill Albus, Yuri, even though he had ample time and opportunity to do so. That means something," Remus pointed out tersely. "And all Scrimgeour and The Ministry are concerned about are headlines and preserving their severely tarnished reputations. Sorry, but if that makes me soft, then so be it. Draco may be more cooperative than you think. And if he is, we could learn a great deal about what Severus has been up to. I'm more than willing to give him a chance to redeem himself. I will not consign Draco to Azkaban out of hand. No one deserves that fate."

"No, no, you are most often right," the Slovenian sighed. "Is just that I find it hard to trust as you do."

Remus grinned nervously. "As long as you trust me, Yuri. That's what's really important. I just know I'm right about Draco. Things are finally going our way. Now we have a Horcrux in hand, and Harry and I are very close to locating another one. We need to focus on those tasks and not concern ourselves quite so much over someone's surname."

The thin werewolf climbed under the covers, leaning back against the scarred mahogany headboard. Remus folded his hands across his lap.

"I could never face all this on my own, Yuri. Thank Merlin you decided to show up."

The muscular lycan grinned crookedly.

"You are much stronger than you know, Moony. I know I am repeating, but you have done so much good with these boys. I am so very proud of you. But two is always better than one. We both need good night's rest, I think. Tomorrow will be very stressful."

Remus nodded sleepily, motioning for Yuri to join him.

"I'm afraid you're right about tomorrow. I'll have to try and get a hold of Tonks first thing in the morning. She's sure to have more details about what happened earlier tonight. And we could use her help with the boys as well. For the first time, I'm really worried about Harry. That letter. Abducting Malfoy, fooling about with a Horcrux on his own ...."

Remus tailed off as the stocky lycan warded the door and windows.

"He has been through much. Difficult for adult Wizard to handle properly, let alone one Harry's age. He's young, Moony, and you recall how we were then, yes?"

"That's what frightens me, Yuri. We were rude, arrogant, pompous know-it-alls. And we very nearly killed someone because of our over-confidence. I just don't want Harry to make the same mistakes we did."

The Slovenian nodded in agreement. "All true. We'll just do the best we can, yes?"

The slim werewolf yawned deeply.

"I only hope it's enough," Remus whispered softly.

Yuri charmed down the lamps, leaving only a single, flickering candle burning on the sidetable. With a swift motion, he pushed down his underwear. Remus whistled as the naked lycan hopped up onto the huge bed, quickly shoving himself under the soft blanket.

Remus nestled against his lover, throwing a arm over Yuri's broad chest.

"When I was younger, I always dreamed of a simple, normal life. Living with the man I loved, maybe having a family, doing something worthwhile with our lives. Making a difference. After I lost Sirius, not once, but twice, I had almost given up on having any of it. But now...."

The thin lycan's voice trailed off, a hint of sorrow plainly evident.

Yuri smiled, gently caressing the stubble on Remus' chin.

"But now, you have chance for all that and more. The Fates work in mysterious ways, Moony. The universe may not give us everything we want, but she always gives us everything we need. Old story of not looking any further than your own backyard. Things have a way of working out for the best. Hey, I'm here, aren't I?"

Both men chuckled as Yuri flicked his tongue around the shell of Remus' ear. The thin lycan buried his head in the crook of Yuri's neck. He sighed heavily.

"Yes, yes, you are here. You're right, of course. Things work out, we just can't always see it. And I know that it's all there before me. But there's so much shit to get through. So much pain and death. And that psychopath Riddle to deal with. Fuck, Yuri, why does it have to be so damn difficult? How much more crap do I have to put up with?"

The Slovenian sighed. The dying candlelight flickered briskly, casting a plethora of dancing shadows across the dingy wallpaper of the large bedroom. A soft rush of warm breeze stirred the curtains covering the open window. Yuri felt Remus shiver.

"My Moony has suffered much. Nothing I can do about what has passed. I can only look ahead with you to future. Just know that I will be there with you to handle whatever life throws our way. Is not always easy, my love. Would be boring life if no challenges, yes?"

Remus had thrown his leg across Yuri's hips and groin. The thin werewolf closed his eyes, his breathing becoming slower and more even by the second.

"I could do with a bit more boredom, I think," Remus sleepily countered. "It would be a pleasant change of pace. In the meantime, we slog forward. So, who's getting up to check on the boys later? You or me?"

Yuri shifted about slightly, pulling his lover still closer in a comfortable embrace. By the time he stopped moving, the stocky lycan noted Remus' smooth, quiet snores.

He snickered to himself.

"I'll do it, my Moony," he whispered quietly. "I'll do it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His head spun about in a swirling mist, a multitude of voices whispering and keening and mewling in a discordant wail. He felt faint, his body strangely distant and detached from his roiling mind. Suddenly, everything was black and still. He no longer felt queasy or weak.

His feet firmly and securely upon the solid ground once more, he took a breath, struggling to focus his eyes in the deep darkness.

Soon, he began to make out his surroundings.

The space was dim, dank, cold. A pungent, rotten smell filled the air, rife with decay. The low, arched ceiling was covered in mold, large, pendulous green growths covered in cobwebs and fungus hanging down, almost as if they were reaching for him. A sickly, fetid breeze stirred fitfully through the dungeon, reeking of raw sewage and filth. He was aware of shadowy, cloaked figures flanking him in the gloom. A single, weak torch burned in its rusted bracket, casting a pale, flickering light upon the two figures shackled to one of the rough, stone walls.

Their arms were drawn high above their heads, the sharp metal cutting deeply into their wrists. Their bodies slumped downward after hours and hours in the heavy chains. Heads lolling weakly against their shoulders, the man staring straight ahead while the woman murmured quietly, her eyes closed.

"Crucio!"

Angry green light arced from the wand of the hooded figure next to him. A raspy, cackling laugh echoed across the dungeon as the vile energy struck its target, the man writhing in agony as his body spasmed and bucked wildly against the chains that restrained him. The only sound that escaped his lips was a dry, scraping wheeze.

Bellatrix turned towards him, her pale, drawn face awash in the torchlight, her thin lips twisted into a mad leer.

He nodded to his acolyte, gesturing towards the woman shackled to the wall.

"Don't stop now, Bella," he hissed, "Teach these fools the true meaning of pain."

Bellatrix nodded vigorously, her wide, dead eyes filled with hate and madness. She raised her wand above her head, whipping it down and pointing it at her victim.

"Crucio!" she bellowed with obvious relish.

The woman's limp body jumped to life as the energy of the curse struck her dead on. She danced about jerkily, as if a puppet controlled by some fiendishly vicious puppeteer. Her body flailed about, her joints crackling in protest as her mouth formed a silent scream.

He chuckled deeply as the man pulled at his manacles.

"Oh how very touching, Longbottom. Trying to come to the aid of your dear, sweet wife. Allow me to help you."

He raised his own wand, pointing it at the gasping Auror.

"Crucio," he drawled.

Frank Longbottom jumped and writhed as the curse struck him, small trickles of blood seeping from the corners of his mouth. Alice began screaming again, while Bellatrix and Rabastan Lestrange laughed madly.

Longbottom jerked his head at him, blood and spittle flying.

"We won't tell you anything, you sick bastard," he rasped weakly. "Listen to me, Barty. Fight him! Don't let him control you! Push him out, and together we'll destroy him once and for all!"

He took a step forward, his wand pointed directly at Longbottom's chest.

"Spare us your witless notions of loyalty, Frank. Barty has willingly accepted me and offered his body as temporary host. Did you think I could be so easily vanquished? Soon I shall be restored to my former self. In the meantime, you shall suffer the consequences of choosing the wrong side. Now, for the last time, what do you know of The Prophecy and Harry James Potter?"

Longbottom blinked at him, his eyes watery. The Auror swayed from side to side, glancing at his wife. A moment later, he drew himself up. Without warning, Longbottom spat at him, a huge globule of blood and spit splattering across Crouch's robes.

He sighed.

"Very well."

"Crucio!"

"Crucio!"

"Crucio!"

Multiple bolts of sizzling, green plasma shot across the dungeon from his wand, striking the chained Aurors with brutal force. As they screamed and writhed in agony, his host moaned softly as he felt a stirring in Crouch's groin. The sight of his prisoners suffering had initiated warm feelings deep within. He felt strong once more, alive, as if he were back in his own body again. Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly pulled his hand across the front of Crouch's trousers, eagerly rubbing the young Death Eater's rapidly stiffening cock. After a moment, he spoke again.

"Final chance. Frank? Alice? Anything to say?"

Longbottom hung limply from his manacles while his wife stared blankly at the ceiling, murmuring to herself.

"Fuck you," Longbottom rasped out, coughing and wheezing as blood flowed from his right ear.

"I think not," he replied tersely.

"Crucio!"

He cast the Cruciatus again and again, Barty Jr.'s cock now fully hard. He turned to his followers and gestured to the shackled Aurors.

"Comrades, if you would be so kind?"

Both grinning maniacally, Bellatrix and Rabastan began throwing curses at the screaming Aurors.

He turned to the other cloaked figure standing off to the side, barely visible in the shadows.

"Come now, Lucius. Don't be shy."

Malfoy stepped closer, nodding to his Master.

"As you wish, my Lord."

He watched as his three followers cursed the Longbottoms mercilessly. He nearly came as he watched the life literally drain from the Aurors' bloodshot, puffy eyes. It was precious little comfort for having lost his body, but it would do for now.

Young Crouch would serve him well.

Until he had need for another host.

Smiling widely, he pointed his own wand to the stricken Aurors, throwing curse after curse at them with wild abandon.

He was laughing at the top of his lings when all went white. He was blinded, once more spinning through the void, a cacophony of voices and hisses and snarls assaulting his ears. It built steadily, more and more, louder and louder, until he felt that his throbbing skull would burst.

Desperately pulling air into his aching lungs, he threw his hands to his ears, attempting to steady his swirling head.

With a deep, rasping yell, Neville sat up in the strange bed, the damp sheets tangled about his long legs.

His t-shirt was sopping wet, clinging to his sweat-soaked chest as he glanced wildly about. After a few moments, he calmed slightly as he noted the familiar long windows and hearth across the gloomy room. Ripping the covers aside, he hopped off of the large bed and padded across the carpet to the nearest window. Pulling the old curtains apart, moonlight poured through the dirty glass, filling the room with a cool, blueish cast. Turning about, Neville recognized the ugly, stained wallpaper of one of the spare rooms at Grimmauld Place. Shaking his head roughly, he pulled the t-shirt off and tossed it away.

His heart was thudding loudly in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Neville hung his head, attempting to calm himself by regulating his breathing. Seeing his parents that way, chained, bloody, in pain, had unnerved him badly. He pressed his eyes closed over and over, blinking back the hot tears that leaked down his cheeks. After a few minutes, he caught his breath and he stood up straight, wiping his hand across his puffy eyes.

His head was still dizzy from his nightmare. The chrous of voices had subsided, leaving only the quiet, sibilant one. Even now it was there, murmuring to itself, content, waiting. Neville had dreamt of his parents before, but never had he imagined this particular version of events. It didn't have the quality of a dream at all, that hazy, sometimes disjointed continuity that is ever present when the subconscious takes control.

This had seemed real. Felt real. Smelled real. Almost like he was actually there. Like a memory.

"Bloody hell," he whispered to himself, absently rubbing the bandage on his forehead.

But how could that be?

It was impossible that is was any memory of his. But he had been in that dungeon. He knew those Death Eaters. He felt his strange, deep voice hissing through his lips, the pleasure fill his body as he cast Unforgivables at his parents. It had felt good.

What in Hades was going on?

The Voice rose up then, a mocking laugh resonating across Neville's mind.

"Yes, it felt good to bestow pain, didn't it? And it will feel good when we do it again!" the Voice rasped eagerly.

Neville swayed, leaning against the wide wooden sill. He was suddenly hot, his skin dry. Fumbling with the catch, he turned the tiny handle and swung the old windows open, hoping the fresh night air would clear his head. Neville winced as he banged his wrist on the open window frame. Turning his arm up, he saw the two raw bite marks, ringed with the tiniest drops of blood. He stared at them for many moments, the cool breeze washing across his over-heated body. A wave of satisfaction rolled over him as visions of a short, red-haired vampire filled his brain.

He brought his wrist to his quivering lips, eagerly sucking at the precious blood. How could he have forgotten about Tommy? Just thinking the vampire's name filled Neville with a burning desire, a desperate need to be with his new Master once more. He shuddered as he imagined Tommy's fangs tearing into his flesh, filling him up with new life in exchange for his blood. Neville moaned, his head swimming as his cock hardened instantly.

"He's not for you," The Voice interjected, quiet, suddenly uncertain.

Pulling his wrist from his lips, Neville closed his eyes and arched his back, running both hands up and down his sweat-slicked torso, imagining that they were Tommy's hands. Fuck it. He needed to find the red-head. Needed him now. Had to have him.

"But what of Harry," the Voice prodded innocently. "He's right here in this house. Why not go to him now?"

Neville's eyes snapped open at the idea. It made perfect sense. There was plenty of time to find Tommy. Why not take advantage of what was right next to him?

Grinning, he strode across the room, reaching out for the tarnished brass doorknob. The instant before he touched it, the wards activated. A jolt of energy coursed through Neville's body, flinging him half-way across the room. He landed in front of the hearth in a tangled heap, dazed but suddenly enraged. Leaping up, a vicious snarl spreading across his face, Neville stalked up to the door, both hands in front of him. He he carefully glided both palms across the surface of the wards, tiny crackles of energy snapping and popping as his skin made the slightest contact.

"Knock them down! You can do it. I'll show you how," the Voice hissed knowingly.

Hesitating for only a second, Neville grinned as he concentrated, murmuring the incantation that the Voice had suggested.

The wards faded almost instantly.

Grabbing the knob, Neville flung the heavy oak door open and strode down the hallway towards Sirius' old bedchamber. It was now Harry's room, and Neville smiled crookedly as he cautiously reached forward and sensed another set of wards protecting the green-eyed Wizard's door.

The Voice chuckled. "Pitiful attempts, aren't they? You know what to do!"

"Yeah, I do now," Neville whispered to himself, dropping the wards as easily as before.

Swiftly but quietly, Neville crept into Harry's bedroom. Both windows were open, the thin curtains billowing softly in the cool breeze. A sliver of moonlight washed across the huge, curtained four-poster. Neville smiled as he barely made out the sleeping form of his housemate. Stealthily crossing the large chamber, the tall Gryffindor moved to the side of the bed. Neville stared down at Harry, peacefully at rest, his face nearly angelic, awash in the soft lunar light.

Neville gasped in spite of himself as he stood there. Harry was beautiful, and Neville had wanted him for so long, so very long. But there was another. He had a new love that drowned out all others, even Harry. His red-headed Master called to him even now across the dark night.

But Neville still wanted The Boy Who Lived. He probably always would. And he could have him. Anytime.

"You know what to do," the Voice cajoled, nearly inaudibly.

"Yes," Neville whispered, nodding to himself as he slowly crawled up and across the huge mattress.

Harry stirred slightly as the thin Gryffindor leaned down and planted a chaste kiss to the sleeping Wizard's forehead. Neville then left a trail of kisses down Harry's temple and cheek, finally pressing his quivering lips to Harry's. Quickly climbing on top of the smaller Gryffindor, Neville gently lowered his aroused body to Harry's, pressing his throbbing prick against the now waking Wizard. Neville pulled away slightly as Harry's eyes fluttered open, a look of surprise and alarm crossing his handsome face.

"Nev? What......"

Neville grinned and mashed his lips over Harry's, smothering the unfinished sentence with his probing tongue. The shorter Wizard hesitated a moment before throwing his arms around the thin Gryffindor, pulling Neville into a tight embrace. Both teens moaned as Neville ground his hips into Harry's, the wonderful feeling of the shorter Gryffindor's hard-on driving Neville to near distraction. The intensity of the encounter escalated rapidly, with Harry responding to Neville's energy in kind.

The tall Gryffindor pushed himself up to his knees, his engorged cock stretching his thin sleep pants to the limit. Harry pushed the sheets down and sat up, blinking his eyes sleepily.

"Merlin, Nev, you look fucking fabulous. What are you waiting for?"

Neville grinned, shoving his sleep pants down to his knees and flopping down on his arse to kick them the rest of the way off.

"I'm done waiting, Harry," he growled throatily.

The green-eyed Wizard smiled, his eyes sparkle bright as the now naked Gryffindor rose back up to his knees. Neville's large, erect prick pointed directly at Harry as he pulled back the sheets.

Neville reached over and ran his hands down the shorter Wizard's slim but nicely muscled chest. He chuckled as he felt the soft, wispy chest hairs running down the middle of Harry's chest and stomach. The seated Wizard shuddered and drew in a sharp breath.

"Oh, Nev, I want to feel you all over me."

Harry grabbed both of Neville's hands and shoved them down to his groin, pressing his friends fingers against his own raging erection. The smaller Wizard heaved his hips up and down as Neville smiled even more broadly. Harry threw his head back, a small moan escaping his lips.

"Fuck me, Nev. Hard."

"Yes, do it now," the Voice rasped.

"I intend to, Harry," Neville purred deeply, murmuring a silencing charm on the room. Leaning down, he kissed the seated Wizard's parted lips once more.

With a swift motion, Neville hooked his fingers in the waistband of Harry's boxer briefs, yanking them over his hips. The smaller Gryffindor cooperated by lifting himself up slightly, allowing Neville to pull the shorts down Harry's legs. While he kicked them off, Neville pulled away, his gaze drawn to Harry's lovely, erect cock. It was too perfect to ignore. Finally done shucking his shorts, Harry flopped himself back against the huge nest of pillows against the headboard. Neville dove into Harry's crotch, one hand caressing his balls while the other hand explored the shorter Gryffindor's arm, shoulder and chest. Harry groaned loudly, running both of his hands through Neville's tangled locks.

The larger Wizard's hand slid gently up the base of Harry's silky shaft, while his tongue darted out to tease the head of the green-eyed Wizard's cock. Finding and firmly pinching a firm, hard nipple, Neville quickly swallowed Harry's entire length, sucking and pulling on it forcefully. Harry whimpered, tightening his grip on Neville's hair, slowly beginning to push the taller Wizard's head up and down. Neville got the message and amplified his movements, deftly raking his teeth against the sensitive head of Harry's aching prick.

Harry keened shrilly and bucked back and forth, releasing Neville's head to run his hands down the larger Wizard's cheeks, neck and shoulders. Neville continued his ministrations, torturously swilling his tongue around Harry's cock, paying special attention to its swollen head. As Harry arched his back and gasped for air, Neville quickly pulled away, Harry's prick flopping against his abdomen with a solid thwack. The taller Gryffindor rose to his knees once again, scooting himself closer to his lover and running his hands along Harry's short, muscular legs. The green-eyed Wizard was panting heavily.

"Fuck me, Nev! Please?" he pleaded through clenched teeth.

Neville slid his hands under Harry's thighs, hefting them up and apart. He quickly pressed the tip of his swollen member against Harry, finding his entrance and pressing his cock into it. He hesitated a moment as Harry unconsciously tensed with a sharp gasp, his eyes closed and his head flailing from side to side. With a firm, swift movement, Neville thrust himself into the smaller Wizard, grabbing Harry's hips with both hands.

Harry screamed Neville's name as the larger Gryffindor slammed into him without mercy. Neville thrust faster and faster as Harry reached down and began stroking his own cock, bucking and flailing about in ecstasy. A moment later, Harry came, his release coating his stomach and hands with the warm, salty fluid. The spent Wizard was panting heavily, sweat covering his entire body. Neville came a second later, filling Harry with his seed.

Gasping for air, Neville withdrew, causing Harry to suck in a sharp breath. Running a hand over Harry's spunk-slicked prick and stomach, Neville brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them hungrily, relishing the taste of Harry's essence. The smaller Gryffindor was just catching his breath as Neville hefted himself on top of Harry, pressing their bodies together. Both teens gasped in pleasure at the feeling of their wonderfully wet, sticky-slick skin.

Neville buried his head in the crook of Harry's neck, licking and laving the smaller Gryffindor's collarbone and shoulder eagerly. Finding the perfect spot, Neville gently nibbled at the skin there, taking a bit of it between his teeth. Harry sighed, turning his neck to allow Neville better access.

The taller Wizard then bit down hard, sinking his blunt teeth into the flesh of Harry's shoulder. The smaller Gryffindor yelped in pain, flinging his arms up to scrabble at Neville's back. Neville continued to bear down, the bitter, coppery taste of Harry's blood trickling across his teeth and onto his tongue. The short Gryffindor was struggling now, attempting to push the larger teen off.

"Fuck, Nev, what in Merlin's name..."

Neville released his bite, sitting up and rolling quickly off of Harry to the other side of the bed. Smacking his lips contentedly, Neville grinned as he made out the bloody bite mark he had just made. He stared at Harry, chuckling softly.

"Was that good for you, mate? It was for me," he drawled.

Harry simply sat there, stunned, his hand touching his latest bite. Neville jumped off the bed, finding Harry's boxer briefs and pulling them on. Walking over to a pile of clothes stacked on a chair, the tall Gryffindor picked up the t-shirt on top and shrugged into it. Smoothing it out, Neville moved back over to the bed, smiling at Harry.

"Don't mind if I borrow these, yeah? I'll have to get a pair of my own jeans; yours are too small for me."

The green-eyed Wizard gaped at his friend, blindly groping for the sheets and pulling them up to his waist.

"What's up with you? Something's wrong...."

Neville cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"No, mate. For once, everything's right. You'd better get used to it. Well, I'm off. I'll see you tomorrow night, Harry. Same time, same channel, yeah?"

"But Nev," Harry blurted, "You shouldn't be out and about on a night like this. Remus wouldn't allow it, you know that."

Neville huffed, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"Oy, you're one to talk, that. I can take care of myself. And I think you're still exhausted from your ordeal tonight. You need some rest, mate

"Yes, that's it! You're learning. Perfect! Do it!" the Voice clamoured ecstatically.

Before his friend could utter another word, Neville summoned Harry's transfigured wand and gently stunned him. The smaller Gryffindor slumped back against his pillows, looking as peaceful as he did when Neville first entered the bedchamber. Wiping his hands together, he placed the knife on the mantle and left Harry's room, resetting the wards just as the Voice had instructed.

Once back in the guest room, Neville finished dressing. Pulling on and tying his boots, he reset the wards on his own door. Walking over to the open window, Neville stepped up onto the wide sill and stood there in the tall opening, taking in the intoxicating view of the nightscape before him. The darkness was summoning him, gently but clearly pulling him into it. Neville blinked as the moonlight filled his ears with her strange song, and the warm breeze curled eagerly about his suddenly electrified body. Throwing his arms wide, the tall Gryffindor flung his head back, laughing happily as the night charged him with her power.

Something was different and strange within him, but it didn't frighten him any longer. He felt powerful, in control, more so than ever before. For the first time that he could remember, Neville felt strong. And he liked that new feeling. He liked it a lot.

And then there was the Voice. Mostly it was urging him on, but right now it was nattering away about staying in and avoiding the young vampire.

"Fuck that," Neville murmured.

The Voice might be helpful at times, but it wouldn't keep him from seeing Tommy. The red-head was out there somewhere, waiting. Neville began to ache, wanting, needing to feel the vampire's kiss once more. He closed his eyes, reaching out across the city, searching, concentrating, calling out. He was out there, waiting for him.

Just a little more effort.

Focus. Control. Persistence.

A moment later, his eyes snapped open.

"Right!"

With a deep breath, Neville stepped off of the sill, landing firmly onto the first floor roof below it. Easily moving across the gently sloped slate, he jumped off the eave and landed neatly in the middle of the barren back garden. Striding across the tiny walled yard, Neville flung open the wooden gate and walked into the alley.

Without a backward glance, Neville jogged down the dark alleyway and into the deep, mid-summer's night.
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Into The Long Dark