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Fragmented Soul	By : StrawberryGirl87 & Bickymonster Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 79703 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 10
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Chapter List
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Fragmented Soul
Chapter 23 - Fear
Daily Prophet Edition: 17th December 1995

Albus Dumbledore: “Harry James Potter is truly the-boy-who-lived”

Earlier this year, a young man was brought to my attention. He very closely fitted with the physical description and several crucial details of Harry James Potter. This is the same teenage boy that was spotted in Diagon Alley recently, where he was seen shopping with his family.

It has now been established that Harry was removed, without consent from any legal guardian, from Godrics Hollow on the very night that Lily and James died from the Killing Curse. I have come to believe that Harry also suffered the Killing Curse, and yet miraculously survived; the only evidence of its casting is a scar upon his forehead.

It is now my belief that Harry James Potter is truly the-boy-who-lived and that sadly our hopes were misplaced when we looked to Neville Longbottom for liberation from the evils of our world. I am certain that Harry will stand up to the challenges of such responsibility and restore our hopes for the future.

As for the kidnapper behind Harry’s fourteen year absence, the guilty party has now been brought to justice, facing the full consequences for their actions. Following his liberation, Harry has, of course, now been placed in the dedicated care of close family friends, where he is being given the best opportunity to grow up as any normal teenager would hope.

In line with this same hope for giving Harry the best chance in life, and in the challenges he will face, I have extended an offer to attend Hogwarts, starting in the New Year. Under normal circumstances new students are not permitted to join part way through their education, let alone, part way through a year, but due to the exceptional state of affairs, and the preciousness of this individual, he has been granted a place, which I can happily announce he accepted.

So I wish nothing but the best for young Harry, and look forward to seeing what he can achieve, particularly when given access to high standard of expertise and education that Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardary offers to its students.
FGHP
“ALPHA!” Lukas called. It was early and most of the pack was still half asleep, sluggishly moving around the clearing, all of them carrying mugs of either tea or coffee. Fenrir had lectured them all about being more careful with the hot drinks after what had happened to Harry and now they were all walking around as if they were carrying explosives.
An owl had just swept gracefully into the clearing, delivering a copy of the Daily Prophet to its recipient. Lukas had discussed the idea of re-directing his subscription to the Daily Prophet to the clearing after the last article involving half the pack, including Harry. Fenrir, who had never been much for keeping track of what was going on in the wizarding world, had reluctantly agreed. He wanted to know what was happening, in regards to his little mate, as soon as it happened and not a few days after the fact.
“What is it, Lukas?” Fenrir asked as he sat up from where he had been laying beneath a pile of thick furs, Harry snuggled in his arms. The teenager was only just starting to stir from sleep and the Alpha was not impressed at being summoned before he had had a chance to share a few private moments with his mate beneath the blankets.
“You need to see this,” he responded brandishing the paper having just skimmed over the contents of the front page and not believing what he had seen, especially when he had quickly picked up the words Dumbledore and Potter.
“Fen…” Harry grumbled incoherently, still half asleep, as the Alpha manoeuvred his way out of their pile of hides, he was not impressed with being woken up and losing his cuddles and heat source.
“Hush, little one, I’ll be back,” Fenrir said as he leaned over and kissed the top of his mate’s head, before heading over to Lukas who was re-reading the article on the front of the paper, a cup of tea in one hand. “This better be good,” the Alpha stated as he took a seat next to the other werewolf.
“I wouldn’t say it’s good,” Lukas said, handing over the paper.
“Not again,” Fenrir growled, casting a glance over to his little mate who was still cuddled beneath the blankets and hides, though it seemed that Harry was starting to properly wake up now. It seemed that he wasn’t going to be getting his morning snuggles, which never put him in the best of moods; he and Harry liked their morning routine.
“Are you going to tell him?” Lukas asked; he was wary of mentioning it after what had happened to Damon but he had asked before he had really thought about the consequences of that particular question.
“Don’t you start,” Fenrir said with a soft growl of warning, there was very little bite in his tone however, though he put that down to missing his cuddles and not having had any coffee yet.
Lukas chuckled. “Oh, I know, it’s your choice,” he assured the Alpha; it was hardly like he would be challenging Jenson, let alone Fenrir. “I was just purely curious. Promise.”
“Would you tell him?” Fenrir asked, realising that Lukas was the one pack member who had spent the most time just talking to his mate since he arrived here. According to Damon, Lukas had been the one to get Harry to eat when he had been unconscious. He genuinely wanted to know what he would suggest.
After a moment of hesitation where Lukas considered this, almost too scared not to in fear of giving the wrong answer. “I’d give him the choice to know or not.”
Fenrir could see that, after all the progress he and Harry had made, it would perhaps unwise to start keep secrets such as this again. Lukas’ suggestion certainly was worth considering; he always got on well with Harry, after all, and would be unlikely to suggest something that would antagonise the teenager.
“I’ll ask him; thank you, Lukas,” Fenrir said, getting to his feet, the paper still in his hands.
“Oh..., you’re welcome, my Alpha,” Lukas said, blinking slowly at the larger werewolf in surprise. He watched as Fenrir got to his feet and headed directly for where Harry was still curled up under the blankets. He hadn’t really expected his advice to be well received, let alone, acted upon.
“Little one...” Fenrir said, as he approached his little mate.
“Mmmmm,” Harry mumbled, not wanting to be dragged from sleep just yet and still a little put out that he had lost the warmth and comfort of his mate.
“There’s been another article in the paper,” the Alpha informed him.
“Okay…” Harry said, a little more awake now as the words sunk in. He really didn’t want to think about that right now, not when he was in such a good mood. He was happy to remain in denial about it all for a little bit longer.
“Do you want to see it?” Fenrir asked him, trying to gage what kind of mood his little mate was in. He was a little surprised that Harry had not shown more of a reaction to the mention of an article, but he wasn’t going to complain if Harry was going to be less difficult than usual.
“Nope,” Harry said decisively.
“Are you sure?” The Alpha asked, wanting to be certain that Harry had thought out his decision properly. He wondered if perhaps he should listen to Lukas’ advice more often if this was the kind of results it wielded; at least this way his little mate couldn’t blame it on him when he didn’t know what the paper contained.
“Yep, I don’t want to see it. What I do want is for you to come back to bed though. I want my cuddles,” Harry said, looking up at his mate as he blinked the last of his sleepiness from his bright emerald eyes.
“I’m already up,” Fenrir said, discarding the paper to the floor, if Harry didn’t want to see it that was just fine by him. He didn’t care if Harry was in denial about the situation, Fenrir was just happy not to have to deal with it right now and focus on more pleasurable things.
“Don’t be so stubborn and come lie back down,” Harry said, trying to glare at the Alpha but failing miserably.
“Stubborn has nothing to do with it, little one,” Fenrir insisted. “Time to get your cute, lazy arse out of bed.”
“I’m not cute,” Harry told him sternly, furrowing his forehead in disapproval. “And I’ll just have to satisfy myself if you won’t help,” he said, looking very pleased with himself. He was determined to get his cuddles and if he had to resort to more devious methods then that was just fine with him.
“Remember who is in charge here, little one,” Fenrir said, amused by Harry’s attempts at coercion.
“I remember, you most of the time and me the rest,” Harry whispered just loud enough for Fenrir to hear. He wanted to tease his mate, not question his authority. “This would be one of the me in charge moments, in case that wasn’t clear,” his tone playful and teasing, and quiet enough that the pack moving around completely missed it.
“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Fenrir questioned as the blankets began to shift around the place where Harry’s nether regions would be.
“There’s one way for you to find out,” Harry said, gazing up at his Alpha and in that moment Fenrir had a choice. If he caved and climbed back under the hides with his little mate then he was conceding defeat and admitting that, at least some of the time, Harry was in charge. Though the alternative was forcing suffering on to himself as he watched Harry pleasure himself and denied himself joining in.
He already knew he was going to cave in to his desires. It would seem he would be getting his morning cuddles after all, he thought as he climbed back under the blankets with Harry. His little mate grinned in triumph at the success of luring his mate back into bed with him. Harry barely had time to register this success before a large hand had reached between them and taken hold of his hand that was gently caressing his hard cock.
“Nobody touches what is mine, not even you, little one,” Fenrir said gruffly in Harry’s ear, nipping lightly at his little mate’s neck.
“If you think I’m going to completely abstain...,” Harry said, though finding the words while the Alpha’s large hand was now helping his own hand to stroke his erection, required considerable effort, “...while at Hogwarts for a whole month, you are going to be sorely disappointed.”
“I will, if you do,” Fenrir said, pleased to see just how responsive his little mate was in his hands. “Just think of how much we’ll want each other every full moon.” It really was a delightfully tempting prospect, even if the month without would be awful.
“Isn’t that counted as bestiality?” Harry asked with a cheeky grin, Fenrir didn’t justify that with an answer, instead choosing to silence him by very slightly tightening his grip around Harry erection. “Okay, I get it, I’ll shut up now,” Harry said with a gasp as Fenrir’s strokes became faster and Harry realised that the Alpha’s intentions were not completely innocent this morning. “Fen… not here…”
“You started this, little one,” the Alpha pointed out with a lecherous grin.
“And I was... just hoping… ah… for cuddles…” Harry lied; he had not just been hoping for cuddles, however he had hoped that they might finish off somewhere a little more private, somewhere that wasn’t right in the middle of their territory, surrounded by their pack brothers and sisters.
“This doesn’t feel like you were hoping for just cuddles,” Fenrir said, a hint of amusement in his tone as he continued to stroke his mates erection, relishing in how much Harry was holding back the usual delicious sounds and profanities that usually came out of his mouth. It delighted the Alpha to know just how self-conscious his little mate was about crying out with his pleasure while surrounded by their oddball family.
“Fen… I’m going to…” Harry gasped out, he pressed his forehead against Fenrir’s chest, trying to resist the building pressure and tension in his body. He still had enough awareness of where they were to feel hesitant, despite his undeniably approaching orgasm.
“Then do it, little one, come for me” the Alpha instructed.
“I… I can’t…” Harry told him, his voice almost pleading.
“Yes you can, come, little one.” At Fenrir’s whispered words, Harry couldn’t hold on to his climax any longer. With his head buried in the nape of the Alpha’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent, he subconsciously bit down on the exposed flesh to keep himself from crying out as the force of the orgasm hit him, sending him toppling over the edge.
FGHP
Enough was enough. The boy was up to something and he was going to find out what. He had had Minerva bring the boy to his office only moments before and the fifth year Malfoy heir was now sat before him, his entire body tensed, as though expecting an attack.
“Tea?” Dumbledore offered in a kind voice; Draco shook his head. “Sherbet lemon?” Draco frowned and again shook his head, not trusting anything from the elderly headmaster not to contain veritaserum. He couldn’t risk it, not with the current situation he was in.
“Headmaster, no disrespect but why am I here?” Draco asked, his arms folding defensively over his chest. He didn’t want tea or sweets, he wanted to make some progress with that damned cabinet before the Christmas holidays and he somehow doubted that was what the headmaster had brought him here for.
“I have become concerned for you,” Dumbledore said gently, pausing to sip at his own tea. “You seem… distracted by something as of late, Mr Malfoy.”
“Well I’m not,” Draco said, ensuring that he kept up the cold facade. He focused his gaze on something just over the headmasters shoulder, not trusting the old man enough to meet his eyes. He knew all about mind magic and he wouldn’t have put it past the old man to have mastered it.
“It’s my belief that you have a rather special guest staying with you at Malfoy Manor at present,” Dumbledore said and he watched as the young fifteen year old visibly tensed. “With your mother and brother.”
Draco was panicking now, he didn’t know what to do, what to say. How much did the headmaster know? Despite the storm raging inside of him he ensured that his outer shell was as calm and composed as ever. He didn’t want to let on to this meddling old man just how scared he truly was.
“I’m not exactly sure what you mean, headmaster,” he said, profoundly relieved that his voice came out steady and as close to normal as he could hope for under the circumstances.
“Let us not play childish games, Draco, not when we can help each other,” Dumbledore said, watching the boy sat before him very closely. He took in every minute movement; the boy might think he had his father’s impenetrable mask mastered but he was very wrong. There were cracks in the façade; not everyone would have been able to spot them but they were there.
“How do you think that we can help each other?” Draco was suspicious of the headmaster; he would do nothing if it didn’t benefit him in someway. Whatever he was up to it would be for the greater good of his reputation somehow, Draco was sure.
“I have a new student starting in the new term, I suspect you’ve seen the papers,” Dumbledore said; knowing that there were very few people in the entire school who hadn’t. Even if they hadn’t seen the paper it was all anyone could talk about. Harry Potter was the name on everybody's lips.
“I have,” Draco stated simply. There were likely very few in the whole country who had not and he would certainly never leave himself so uninformed. He, of course, knew far more of Harry Potter than the headmaster was aware, but that was hardly something he would be letting on.
“I want you to befriend him, get to know him,” the headmaster stated simply.
Draco could have almost laughed, if the situation wasn’t quite so serious. Befriend Harry Potter, that was what the headmaster expected of him? That would almost be too easy given that he and Harry had already taken the first few steps down that path. The tricky bit was going to be ensuring that Harry didn’t give away their prior knowledge of one another.
“Why?” Draco questioned. It seemed rather obvious what the headmaster wanted. He wanted to control Harry, manipulate the boy into working for him; he remembered how unhappy Harry had looked when mentioning that he was coming to Hogwarts under Dumbledore’s orders. But what Draco was curious as to the reasoning Dumbledore would present
“He is rather special to me,” Dumbledore said, wearing a placating little smile that Draco saw right through, “and I need someone to get close to him, he might not have had the right level of education up until this point and I think he could benefit from your helping hand.”
It was a piss poor excuse, one that Draco could have easily seen through even without his added knowledge. However, if the headmaster wanted to dance around the issue and pretend then that was fine by him; he certainly wasn’t the only one who could play with half-truths.
“Why not ask one of your Gryffindor’s to do it, surely that’s where the sorting hat is going to put him?” Draco asked, raising a questioning eyebrow, he could think of several students, including Hermione Granger, who would be more suited to the role of friend and tutor to the soon to be famous, Harry Potter/Prince. Certainly there were other individuals that the headmaster would have an easier time bending to his will, than he would ever have with Draco.
“That is not of your concern, I am asking you to do it,” Dumbledore said a little impatiently, already tiring of the boy’s impertinent questions.
Truthfully the headmaster would never have given the job to anyone he couldn’t fully control and he had witnessed the discontentment of his more loyal Gryffindors; there was an assumption that Harry was coming in to replace Neville. Something that had been spurred on after his statement had been released in the morning edition today. And while he didn’t actually trust the blond Slytherin one bit, the fact was that he had leverage, where Draco was concerned; and with leverage came control. He knew that Draco would do exactly as he wanted because he would be offered something too tempting to refuse in return for his help.
“You want me to spy on him,” Draco said rather bluntly.
“Not spy, just report back, so that I can be certain that he is settling in and I know his magical ability hasn’t been compromised by the way he was raised.” Albus didn’t like that word, it implied that Harry was doing something wrong to deserve to be spied on. He just wanted to keep an eye on the boy, ensure that he was following the right path.
“And if I refuse?” Draco asked; he was already on a mission from Voldemort, he had his own agenda too, he wasn’t sure he would be able to manage if the headmaster gave him a job to do. He already felt as if he were being pulled in several different directions. He needed to ask this because he needed to know what his options were realistically, though he already suspected he would be little choice in the matter.
“Have you read today’s Daily Prophet?” The question made Draco feel a little confused, it wasn’t the response that he had been expecting.
“I have,” Draco admitted, there wasn’t anyone in the whole school who hadn’t.
“You saw the statement I issued?” Dumbledore asked, just to clarify; it had been on the front page, hard to miss but he did have to be sure.
“I did,” Draco said, getting a little frustrated. He had read the damned statement, he didn’t feel the need to confirm it over and over again. It had made him sick to his stomach to see the headmaster cryptically declaring that he had had Severus killed. Of course, the rest of the world wouldn’t know that, but when combined with what Harry had told him, he was sure it was the truth.
“Would you like to know how the kidnapper of this boy was put to justice?” Dumbledore asked and at this Draco started to really pay attention.
It was obvious that the headmaster had to mean Severus; Harry had said that he had been raised by Severus, this had to be who the old man meant when he said kidnapper. It seemed that Draco was about to find out exactly what happened to his Godfather and he wasn’t sure if wanted to hear more details, or not, at this point.
“I don’t see the relevance, Sir,” Draco said, ensuring to keep his outward calm. He didn’t want to give the headmaster any notion that he knew the identity of the kidnapper.
“It is a rather a unique spell; it keeps the one hit with it conscious and alive without the rest bite of sleep, feeling as if every happy memory is being sucked from them constantly, you cannot move, you can only think and that is until the curse is lifted,” Dumbledore explained and it took every ounce of reserve Draco had not to show any emotion. Severus was alive.
“Why are you telling me this?” Draco asked, his voice calm and detached while his mind raced and tried to process this new information.
“Because if you refuse that is what will happen to you. And then who will be around to help your family?” The headmaster spoke with ease, as if he wasn’t threatening serious harm or torture on another person.
It took a moment for Draco to realise that he was actually being threatened. His mind was abuzz with information as it was. Harry thought that Severus was dead and Draco now knew otherwise; if they weren’t going to be friends before, they sure would after he broke this news to Harry.
“Let’s say I agree.” And honestly he didn’t see what alternative he really had. “What do I get out of this?” Draco asked.
“I will guarantee that you and your family are safe and that you are protected from Voldemort,” the headmaster offered, in a voice not that different from when he had offered Draco tea or a sherbet lemon.
“How can you guarantee such a thing?” Draco asked; in the times of uncertainty he wasn’t sure that anyone could offer this, not with any certainty. Safety was something that was heavily sought after but hard to find.
“If you can do as I’ve asked I can ensure that you, your mother and brother will be safe, tucked away in a safe house protected by the Order of the Phoenix and on that you have my word.” Dumbledore was assured enough in himself and his abilities that he thought that this was a sure thing. His voice didn’t even waver with doubt as he said it.
“If they leave Malfoy Manor then the Dark Lord will certainly know something is amiss, he would kill me,” Draco said, his voice had the same certainty as the headmasters; he knew without a doubt that the Dark Lord would kill him, though as long as his mother and brother were safe he might not even care about his own fate.
“I would not allow such a thing to happen, he cannot touch you whilst you remain within my school,” the headmaster stated.
“You really believe that?” Draco asked. He sure found it hard to believe, particularly with the Carrow siblings pretty much out the door and around the corner. There had been numerous times already when they could have cursed him dead without a single witness.
“I am quite certain. Do you believe I would bring Mr Potter here if I was not?” Dumbledore pointed out and Draco at least had to concede that point; Harry would likely be a high value target and the headmaster would undoubtedly have had to put measures in place to ensure his safety. Dumbledore would not risk losing his most precious weapon and maybe, just maybe, the same protections would be extended to Narcissa and, more importantly, Brax as well, should Draco prove himself useful.
“Then I suppose my options are rather limited,” Draco admitted begrudgingly. “I will do my utmost to befriend this Harry Potter and earn his trust,” he agreed, hoping he wasn’t making a terrible mistake. Even though it changed nothing in terms of how he would be with Harry, it was still represented something more; he was now in the headmaster’s pocket and they both knew it.
“I am glad to see your intelligence was not exaggerated,” Dumbledore said with a warm smile, something that didn’t fool Draco one bit.
“I think my common sense rather than my intelligence is the reason for my easy agreement. You didn’t exactly give me much choice, Sir,” Draco informed him in a flat tone. Blatant false flattery wasn’t exactly going to do much to improve his feelings towards the headmaster given the threats that had been thrown about. He honestly wondered why the man even bothered. Was anyone actually foolish enough to buy into the crap he spouted?
“I suppose I didn’t,” Dumbledore said almost conversationally, as though this was the first moment that such a thing had reached his awareness. Draco was not fooled in the slightest.
“Was there anything else you wish to discuss with me, Sir?” Draco asked, tiring of the conversation and realising that he had things to do that were far more pressing than passing time with the manipulative headmaster.
“No, I think that will be all for now,” Dumbledore said dismissively. “Oh, and Mr Malfoy,” he added, just as Draco went to get to his feet. “Do remember to speak with your mother about how we might extract her to a safer location over the holidays.”
“Of course, Sir,” he said dryly; like he could ever forget such a thing.
He left the office quickly, half worried that the headmaster would think of something else to demand of him or threaten him with, and desperately in need of time to think. There was, of course, no point in attempting to put all this in a letter to his mother when the end of term was just days away now; the risk of it being intercepted was too great and so he would wait and discuss it with her in person.
And then there was Harry. It all kept coming back around to him and Draco didn’t quite know what to make of that, but Dumbledore’s convictions seemed to be in line with the beliefs that his mother held. The headmaster’s orders or not, he knew he would have to get to know Harry Potter, or Harry Prince rather. Draco strongly suspected that Dumbledore was in for a bit a shock when Harry arrived; he hadn’t struck Draco as much of a pushover.
Then there was the news about Severus. Could it really be true? It was possible, he supposed, that Harry had been mistaken and the spell Dumbledore had described would certainly explain why the man had not been able to return to his son. That alone was something that would require deeper thought and there was no doubt that he would be telling Harry.
All in all, it was a lot to take in and Draco really just wanted to go sit quietly and think it over. With a sigh he decided if he was going to do that, he might as well do it in front of the stupid cabinet. He was still going to fix it. There was no way he would leave his family’s safety solely in the hands of Albus Dumbledore.
FGHP
The Alpha pair were completely lost in their own little world; as they had during the previous full moon, they were sharing sweet, caressing kisses as they undressed each other in preparation for the transformation with eyes only for each other. Everyone else averted their eyes, allowing them their privacy.
Micha stood a little apart from the others; he had only been keeping company with Harry recently and being without him felt more than a little unnerving. He was hesitant about undressing at all, despite knowing that he didn’t have a choice; he definitely didn’t feel anywhere near ready to be that exposed and vulnerable around anyone, not even his pack brothers and sisters who he knew cared for him deeply. It just didn’t seem to matter to his fucked up brain; he just couldn’t bring himself to de-robe.
“Are you okay?” Damon asked hesitantly, ensuring that he stood well back from the younger werewolf. He could see that Micha was trembling and not from the cold either. They were seven days away from Christmas and deep into December but it was clearly fear that was causing this reaction rather than the plummeting temperatures.
“No,” Micha stated a bit harshly as if this fact should have been obvious. He was still feeling hurt by Damon’s part in Harlan’s death and though he was starting to come to terms with everything and understand it more, thanks to Harry, he still didn’t want the former Beta wolf coming too close. He was just thankful that Damon seemed to know enough to have realised that much for himself and was therefore keeping a safe distance, not attempting to get closer or touch him.
“You know you’re safe with us, right?” Damon questioned. He couldn’t begin to imagine what Micha was going through but he didn’t want the submissive to fear them. They were supposed to be a family and, while it had been mostly Harry who he had turned to, they all wanted to be there for him.
“Harlan said I was safe with him too,” Micha said, his hands shaking violently as he fingered the hem of his t-shirt, not wanting to remove it at all. However the darkness was quickly setting in and he could feel the magic beneath his skin, bubbling away, ready for the change.
“No one is going to lay a finger on you, Micha,” Damon promised. He wanted to wrap the younger werewolf up in his arms, but knew that that would be a terrible idea. Clearly Micha needed a lot of space right now, though it tore at him not to comfort the submissive wolf. “But you need to get undressed; otherwise you will really struggle after the transformation.”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Micha said defensively, glaring at the former Beta wolf. He couldn’t forget what Harry had said just before the two of them had fallen out of the tree. He wasn’t quite ready to believe that Damon felt anything for him but he was prepared to believe that the older werewolf wanted to fuck him and Micha wasn’t going to let anyone hurt him like that again.
“Actually, I would like for you to stay wrapped under as many layers as you like, feeling safe,” Damon said with frustration. “I would love nothing more than for you to not have to deal with this right now, but that simply isn’t an option, Micha.”
“It’s not fair,” Micha said with pain in his voice, struggling to take in that Damon didn’t want him stripped down naked at all, wanted him feeling safe. It was a thought that didn’t quite register in his mind.
“I agree with you there,” Damon said sympathetically, glad that he was yet to undress, the last thing he wanted to be doing was having this conversation with the submissive while naked. The problem was that he could feel the change coming, there wasn’t any stopping it. He knew that he didn’t have time to convince Micha to shred his clothing now and that he’d just have to help him out of the tangled mess afterwards. However, to be able to help Micha, he would have to be free of his own clothing.
“I can’t do it,” Micha told him, turning his back to Damon as he could already feel the transformation starting to force itself upon him. He didn’t care one iota that his wolf form would probably end up all caught up in his clothes, that was still preferable to exposing himself to everyone.
Taking the opportunity given to him when Micha turned his back Damon began to strip down. He had to do it quickly; the tingling in his spine was already transforming into a burn as he removed his jeans and boxers, discarding them haphazardly, having no time to be neat. He kept his eyes on Micha, who had woven his hands into his sandy blond hair, scrunching it in his fists in frustration.
“I know,” Damon said sadly as his body thrummed violently with magic, the change upon them. “It’s okay, Micha, I’ll help you,” he promised as he dropped down on to all fours, seeing that the still dressed Micha did the same. With his skin stretching and his muscles convulsing he allowed the change to overtake him.
His back arched up in the final stages of the transformation, muscles knotting and fur sprouting over his entire body, the burning pain starting to ebb as the final phase was complete. Exhausted and panting Damon looked up and over at Micha. The poor submissive, and not completely transformed, wolf was clearly in a mild state of panic; his top was torn and tangled around his shoulders and front paws; though thankfully his jeans had just torn, leaving the remains of the fabric clinging to his waist.
Damon quickly made his way over nuzzling his head against Micha’s shoulder to try to calm him, but it seemed that, with the restricted movement of his front legs, Micha could barely move anyway. Purple eyes turned to look pitifully and a little fearfully, up at him and the little pleading whine for help tugged at the older wolf's protective instincts.
With great care, Damon started to tear and nip at the fabric around Micha’s shoulders and front legs, slowly starting to free him, he had to take care not to accidentally gnaw at the wrong bit and hurt Micha; that would be the last thing he wanted to do and if it happened then it would no doubt set the young werewolf's recovery back several steps, which no one wanted.
Harry had clearly spotted Micha’s distress as well and, having managed to get away from the Alpha for a moment, came over to join them. He made to help Damon with the clothing, but Damon growled softly at him warningly. He was determined to make it known that it was his job to look after Micha. Harry tilted his head to look at him curiously, before seemingly understanding and lying down next to Micha and butting their noses together.
Fenrir wasn’t particularly pleased that his little mate had once again gone to Micha, nor did he like the way Damon had growled at Harry; but it didn’t seem like there was any aggression in it and so he just stood over his mate like a guardian as Damon proceeded to free Micha from the last of his t-shirt.
The waistband of the jeans Micha had been wearing were a lot trickier to remove as they were more resilient to Damon's sharp canines. It took a lot of time and effort to finally chew through them. Several times Harry attempted to help him but each attempt was stopped, Damon nudging away the young pups jaw at every attempt he made. He made sure that each time he nudged Harry away he did so carefully and gently, he didn’t want to fight the Alpha tonight, he needed to take care of Micha.
Though it was suppressed a little by the transformation, Micha was still certainly not exactly happy about having Damon so close and literally tearing his clothing from him with his teeth; but it was done with such care and gentleness that, with the support of Harry, he was able to keep his panic at bay. It took a lot of restraint not to run off as soon as his front paws had been freed, but the fabric around his waist was uncomfortable and he want to be free of it, and so he nuzzled against Harry again, taking comfort and strength from the other submissive.
Harry didn’t hesitate in nuzzling back, licking affectionately at Micha, bumping their noses together in a way that Fenrir really didn’t like. It was difficult for him to see his little mate be affectionate with anyone other than him, particularly in wolf form it ignited a fierce jealousy and an overwhelming need to claim him.
Nearby Jenson was trying to fend off Clay, who was always rather enthusiastic in his pursuit of Romy during the full moons; Callie and Lukas watched on patiently, far too used to this by now, and knowing that Jenson would catch the pup, give him a warning nip and they would all move on. Romy just found it all rather amusing and allowed Clay his wolf flirting; it wasn’t like it would change her mind.
Tessie however was struggling to get use to the more limited use of her front paw; it seemed that her injury translated into her wolf form and though it wasn’t painful, she knew she would never hunt as well as she once had. She worried that without being able to prove her worth to the Alpha in the hunt that she wouldn’t be lasting very long in the pack. She was still uncertain about the Alpha male and she wasn’t sure he would be willing to carry dead weight.
It seemed however that the Alpha was far too preoccupied with his mate and the other submissive to worry too much about her. Limping, Tessie moved a little further away from the others and lay down, taking the weight off her left fore-leg. It was Callie who came over to her first, tilting her head questioningly at the beautiful light blond wolf that Tessie had transformed into.
Lukas was the next to follow her over, Jenson, Clay and Romy far too busy playing their game of cat and mouse to pay much attention to what was going on with the others. Tessie gave out a soft whine of discomfort as Callie and Lukas tried to encourage her to her feet. In an attempt to show willing Tessie tried, refusing to put any weight on her leg in fear of making it worse.
Now that Damon had Micha free of the last of his clothing, Harry encouraged Micha up onto his paws; Fenrir gave Harry’s hindquarters a nudge to get him moving as well and the Alpha pair, closely followed by Micha, headed over to join the other wolves. Damon trailed behind, trying to repress every instinct that told him to stay close to Micha and protect him.
When he realised that Damon was hanging back a little, Micha hesitated; the older wolf had helped him, eased his discomfort and taken care not to harm him. He didn’t want for Damon to be left behind tonight. Micha waited for Damon to catch up to him before carrying on towards the others, knocking his head against the former beta wolf affectionately before padding off to get closer to Harry.
The Alpha had stepped away from his mate, sniffing out what was wrong with Tessie and Micha took the opportunity to lean against Harry, licking at his muzzle a little and knocking into him playfully, all gestures that Harry returned. At least he did until the Alpha returned his attention back to the submissive wolves, growling at them in warning. Harry gave his mate a pointed stare when Micha went to back off, he wasn’t going to bossed around in either human or wolf form.
Damon, somewhat hesitantly, came to stand beside Micha, even as Harry nuzzled into his other side, much to the displeasure of Fenrir. It was only when the older of the two submissive wolves nudged Harry a little more towards the Alpha did Harry turn to see that Micha was now leaning against Damon, accepting his protection and care in a way he never could while he was human. Harry gave him a final lick to the muzzle, overjoyed that Micha was relying a little more on Damon, before padding over to where the Alpha was standing.
Fenrir growled in firm warning at Tessie, and nudged her again; she couldn’t ignore what was a clear command and pushed herself up a little unsteadily onto all four paws. Seeing that, for once in a long while, all of his pack were up, about, and actually moving without being in pain, he was determined that they would hunt and feed, together this time.
Jenson was dragging Clayton over to join them by the scruff on his neck, with a very amused and seemingly happy Romy, bounding along behind them. The Alpha was starting to nudge and growl at the pack members, directing them off towards the edge of the clearing; Jenson, as pack Beta, assisted him.
Checking that Micha was okay under the protection of Damon, Harry bounded off after Clay, who Jenson had released with a warning snarl and a nip to the ear. Harry was so relieved that the transformation hadn’t hurt, or at least nothing like the previous times and he wasn’t in pain and didn’t feel tired or lethargic. He felt awake and alive, full of energy and he was definitely ready to experience a true full moon, hunting and feeding with the pack he had come to love.
FGHP
Harry blinked his eyes open, stretching out and relishing the feeling of his naked mate against him. From the sounds of it everyone else was still asleep. He had a full belly and his bladder, for a change, was not painfully full and in need of emptying so he simply enjoyed laying there, snuggled into the warmth of his mate, his family around him.
Their relationship had been playing on Harry’s mind a lot recently, ever since he had woken Fenrir up with a blowjob, he had been thinking about it more and more. He wanted to take their relationship to the next level, he wanted to give himself entirely to Fenrir and he wanted to do it before he left for Hogwarts in the New Year.
He could feel the Alpha’s erection between them, his own was achingly hard too but he was still a little shy of doing anything about it while surrounded by his pack brothers and sisters. His hormones however were in overdrive, the scent of the Alpha male intoxicating him as they lay naked together, completely exposed to the elements, not even the usual hides and blankets covering them.
Harry would have felt a little more self-conscious about things if he hadn’t have been facing in towards the Alpha, essentially covering himself with Fenrir’s large, muscular body. All he had to do was reach between them and take the hard length in his hands.
“I know what you’re thinking about,” the Alpha growled, his voice low and only just audible to Harry who was right beside him.
“What?” Harry asked, finding himself a little flustered at being caught thinking about that.
“You get that look,” Fenrir said with amusement.
“Not here,” Harry said quickly, keeping his voice low as Fenrir rested a large hand upon his hip, “Not again.”
The Alpha chuckled. “Alright, little one,” he said, “let’s go.”
Harry frowned, he could smell Micha curled up behind him and he was unsure about leaving him after the full moon, though with a slight turn of his head he saw that Damon was wrapped protectively around him. Harry gave a little smile at the site of them together, he had hoped that by telling Micha what was obvious to most of the pack that it would push the two of them together and it seemed to be working.
“Okay,” Harry said, turning his attention back to his mate, kissing him. However as he went to deepen the kiss, Fenrir broke away, glaring at the younger wolf.
“I don’t like it,” Fenrir growled.
“Like what?” Harry asked in confusion, wondering if there had been something wrong with the way he had been kissing him, his mind panicking.
“You looking to Micha first,” Fenrir said with a low growl.
“I was just checking to make sure he was okay, he’s my friend, I was worried about him after last night Fen,” Harry tried to explain in a rush, realising how unhappy that Fenrir was about what he had done, without even thinking about it. He hadn’t meant to upset his mate at all but it was very clear that, even though it wasn’t his intention, that was exactly what he had done.
“The way you are with him…” Fenrir said, his voice, though quiet was filled with anger that made Harry a little scared.
“It’s not like that with Micha,” Harry insisted, his tone pleading and desperate. “He needed a friend, I was looking after him, I don’t get all jealous when you protect the others.”
“That’s different!”
“How is it different Fen? Explain it to me,” Harry demanded, though he felt ridiculously stupid having this discussion while naked and in the middle of a puppy pile but apparently there was no escaping it now.
“I’m the Alpha, it’s my job to protect them all!”
“And as your mate it’s my job too,” Harry insisted stubbornly. “You need to get it through your thick skull that that isn’t going to change. Stop getting so jealous; haven’t I shown you enough times that I want you and no one else?”
“You should show me again,” Fenrir said, a large hand coming up to stroke a strand of raven hair from his mate’s eyes. It was an affectionate gesture that Harry hadn’t been expected and of course it sparked the cheekiness to rise up and push the boundaries again.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you picked a fight with me just to get the make-up orgasm?” he asked, giving Fenrir a pointed look.
“Little one, shut up,” Fenrir said, taking hold of his little mate and kissing him forcefully. The Alpha’s jealousy was by no means settled by the assurances that Harry had given but until he could claim his little mate entirely it never would be, and even then it might never be suppressed, not when he cared for Harry as deeply as he did.
FGHP
Gideon snarled at the two wizards that had apparated on the edge of his territory; he had known they were coming but it didn't make him any happier to see the Deatheaters this close to his home, particularly not the morning after the full moon when his pack was recovering from the transformation. Draped over their shoulders were two other men, both of whom seemed to be unconscious and completely naked. They were the reason they were all there.
"Two of the six survived," the slightly taller of the two Deatheaters told the Alpha. Gideon neither could, nor cared to, remember his name. "He used that little girl werewolf he has locked up to turn them.”
"New werewolves?" Gideon asked, with a sneer on his face. "I do not have time for baby wolves."
"The Dark Lord had them made them specially," the other Deatheater told him. "Azkaban's finest."
"This one..." the first Deatheater said, dumping the new werewolf that had been over his shoulder, onto the floor in front him, "...likes amputating little blond boys from what I hear."
"Whatever," Gideon snapped at them. As much as he was glad to hear that the Dark Lord wasn't just sending him completely useless trash, he wanted the wizards gone. He was not in the mood to listen to their ramblings, not that he ever was or would be. They simply didn't belong there. "Leave," he instructed firmly, “I’ll deal with them.”
For a moment it looked like the shorter of the two Deatheaters was going to refuse, he certainly looked a little offended by the direct order, but simply proceeded to dump the other new werewolf on the floor. He had landed half on top of the first one, but it hardly mattered; they would both be in pain when they woke up, the first transformation was the worst and from what the Deatheaters had said, it sounded like there had been several who hadn't even lived through it.
“Be careful with that one,” the deatheater said motioning to the second wolf, “he likes playing with little girls.”
Gideon let out a growl that hurried the two of them from the area and, only when he heard the pop of apparition, he turned back to the two unconscious and naked men on the ground in front of him. ‘Be Careful’... Gideon almost scoffed at that. If he could cope with Axlar and Jack, he honestly didn’t think he would have any trouble managing these two. Now that there weren’t wizards near his territory though, he could admit that the amputation thing that the Deatheater mentioned was mildly interesting. Though he wasn’t sure what to make of the one who liked playing with little girls. He didn’t need much of imagination to know what that meant; Jack would be in good company with that one.
Leaving the unconscious werewolves where they had been dropped, piled on top of each other, Gideon went to rouse the rest of his pack that were still sleeping off the previous night’s transformation; they seemed to have ended up near the edge of their territory, not far from where the Deatheaters had shown up. He went round giving each of them a swift kick to which ever body part was easily accessible, not caring what it was. If he had been given new wolves, Azkaban’s finest or not, they would need training and he sure wasn’t going to be the one to do it.
“Alpha?” Dean grunted, wanting to know why he had been woken quite so abruptly; looking around, he quickly realised that the others had been woken too.
“There are two new werewolves,” Gideon stated. “Clothe them and bring them to the clearing” he ordered, to no-one in particular. He didn’t care who did it as long as it got done.
Dean scrambled to his feet, heading the short distance to the gap in the trees that Gideon insisted on calling their ‘clearing’, grabbing his jeans and slipping into them. He was wondering where he was going to manage to find clothing for the two newcomers; it wasn’t as if they had a never ending supply out here. He had only cast a single glance over at the unconscious new werewolves, but he could already tell that both of them looked close to the size of Axlar, a man who walked around in only jeans because they didn’t have a t-shirt large enough to fit across his broad shoulders.
He could hear the rest of the pack grumbling at being so rudely awoken but none of them were up to doing anything yet. Grinning to himself Dean grabbed Axlar’s jeans from the ground and then went rummaging through his things, discarding the bloody clothing from the shop girl and the scrapbook full of articles about his killings and found a second pair of jeans. These would do for the new werewolves and would have the added bonus of pissing of Axlar. Aiden would appreciate this after what the Beta had done to his sister.
Dean headed back over to the two werewolves and glared at them, neither of them had moved an inch from where they had been dumped and clearly had no inclination do so anytime soon. He certainly wasn’t going to physically dress the two of them himself, so he would just have to do some encouraging. Taking a leaf out of his Alpha’s book, he gave them each a swift kick.
The slightly smaller of the two men, who was underneath the other, groaned and pushed the brunet off him. “What the fuck?!” he croaked out through a sore throat.
“Get dressed,” Dean ordered throwing one of the pairs of jeans at him, “the Alpha wants to speak with you. Both of you,” he amended when he realised the other werewolf was starting to come to as well, throwing the other pair at the brunet.
“Where the fuck is this?” the larger of the two men asked, sitting up and looking around.
“Welcome to the pack,” Dean said. “First piece of advice; don’t keep the Alpha waiting, however tough you think you are, he could still beat you down. Don’t make him prove it.”
“Which one’s the Alpha?” the smaller blond asked, as he slid into the jeans he had been given.
“The one with a silver hand,” Dean said, as he gestured over towards where Russ was helping the Alpha start a fire.
“The silver…” the brunet questioned, looked through the trees to where several werewolves seemed to be getting up and dressed.
“Yeah, so don’t piss him off,” Dean warned, more than a little amused by how the two men seemed to be struggling somewhat with their new reality. He supposed it was a lot to take in, but that didn’t lessen how entertaining it was to watch. He couldn’t even remember when he had first been bitten it was so long ago now.
“What the fuck have we got ourselves into now?” the blond muttered, looking at the other guy who apparently as new to this as he was.
“Don’t fucking talk to me,” the brunet muttered bitterly, standing up and pulling on the jeans. He had more or less no idea what was going on, a bad headache, was wearing someone else’s jeans and was not looking for a new friend; even if he was it certainly wouldn’t be the blond guy next to him.
“Bloody charming,” the blond grumbled as he did the same, zipping up the jeans and heading toward the wolf with the silver hand. So much for being in the same boat, he thought rather bitterly.
“Names,” Gideon demanded the moment that they were standing before him, at least halfway to being dressed.
“Keres,” the blonde said, taking in the sight of the various pack members as they recovered from the full moon.
He remembered just enough from the night before to figure out what he was now, and that he was in the middle of a werewolf pack. This was presumably a pack belonging to the Dark Lord given how he had been bitten in the first place. It wasn’t exactly what he had had in mind when he traded his loyalty for his freedom, but he could concede that it was better than spending the rest of his life with the dementors of Azkaban. Maybe he would get to find some nice blond guys to play with, something that he wasn’t sure he would ever get to do again, but he had a feeling that would be dependent on his obedience to his new Alpha.
“Brade,” the brunette responded a bit more hesitantly, fixing Gideon with a stare. The guy that had woken them might be scared of this Alpha, but he sure as hell wasn’t. He hadn’t really agreed to this werewolf crap either and was pretty damn furious about the whole thing; he still couldn’t believe that little blond bint, chained up in the dungeons in that huge house had bitten him. She was a bit old for his usual tastes but he regretted not just forcing her to her knees and putting her in her place.
“Keres, Brade, here’s the deal…” Gideon began and started to explain to them the situation they were now in, ensuring that they knew who was in charge and what to expect. Axlar, as Beta wolf to the pack, would help start to train them and he fully intended to force the others into that training too.
They all needed to refresh their memory. After the other pack had attacked them and they’d lost Roderic it was clear to him that they all needed to get in some more practice; he would not tolerate a loss like that again. Controlling these new wolves who had no respect for pack hierarchy would need to be kept in line. He certainly had his work cut out for him here but they were getting stronger every day and that would only make it easier to take on the Greyback pack.
FGHP
Draco was both dreading and looking forward to going home; he would get to see his mother and brother, but also their additional guests. It hadn’t even been that long since he was there last but already it felt like he and his mother had so much to talk about, between the article about Harry and Dumbledore’s demands, not to mention the fact that Severus was apparently alive.
This was probably why his mind was so occupied as he followed Daphne along the train trying to find themselves somewhere to sit. He really should have known better than to let his guard down while he was stuck in such close quarters with so many of his school mates; though mates was probably a poor choice of wording, most of them would never be counted as mates, rivals was much more fitting a term.
“Oi, Malfoy. Looking forward to getting to cosy up with your master over the holidays?” a horribly familiar voice jeered at him from a few feet behind him. Draco really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Ron Weasley or in fact any of the bitter Gryffindors right now.
“Sod off, Weasley,” Daphne bit back.
“Awww, is this your knight in shining armour coming to your defence, Malfoy?” Weasley taunted; the red-head was being backed up by his usual entourage of Gryffindor boys, Thomas and Finnegan flanking him on either side.
“Leave it, Daphne,” Draco muttered, not wanting to be goaded into starting a fight with the annoying little red-head. Ron really wasn’t worth his time or attentions, especially not when he had so much else on his mind.
“Nothing to say, Malfoy?” Thomas called out.
“Running away like a damsel in distress, Malfoy?” Weasley asked, laughing at them.
“Some of us can afford actual entertainment and don’t have to resort to petty insults and feeble attempts at cajoling others into disagreements, Weasley,” Draco said, turning to face him with a superior smile on his face. “I am sure it will be very boring for you having to huddle up with your hundreds of relatives for warmth in your little hovel of a home this Christmas, but no need to take it out on the rest of us.”
“You won’t be such a big shot when your great master screws you over next,” Dean said. “You think he is going to look out for the Malfoy family?” he added with a laugh.
Draco didn’t like having that pointed out, even if he had known for some time that it was probably true; he hated the references to Voldemort as his master too but he wasn’t about to let on about that to this group of idiots. They still seemed to live in their childish little world of black and white, good and evil, right and wrong; Draco had long since learned that it was never that simple. He didn’t belong to either side and he never would.
“That’s so thoughtful of you to point out, Thomas,” Draco said with a smirk, “I didn’t know you even cared.”
“I don’t care!” Dean said with disgust,
“That was sarcasm, Thomas, or are you as stupid as your friend Weasley?” Draco asked in amusement.
It was quite clear that shortly this was going to escalate into something more than just taunts and jeers; no one seemed to want to be the one to draw their wand first, but it was purely a waiting game of who could hold out the longest. Draco was fairly sure it would be him to contain his temper; he had little doubt that he would be able to keep his head longer than Weasley.
It was all well and good when it was just Draco and Daphne, the two of them were fairly reserved and restrained, however their fellow Slytherin’s were not. Pansy, Blaise and Theodore clearly had been worried about where the two of them had got to and come in search of them because before anyone knew what had happened the three of them were there, wands drawn, pointing directly at the three Gryffindors.
“Oh good, more Deatheaters in training,” Dean said and Seamus let out a groan. The Irishman wasn’t really big on the whole fighting thing; if Ron and Malfoy wanted to throw insults at each other then he had no problem with it, but this was going to get messy now.
Unlike Dean, Seamus wouldn’t happily join Ron in a full blown fist fight or duel without question. He would never goad the Slytherin’s into any kind of fight, he would have much preferred to just leave them all alone and avoid them altogether. He knew that Ron still had it in his head that all Slytherin’s were Deatheaters and therefore to blame for Ginny and Neville’s deaths but as far as Seamus was concerned they were just kids like they were at the time; he was all for placing blame, but there was a difference between Deatheaters and Slytherin’s, even if Ron and Dean couldn’t see it.
“Suggest you leave, blood-traitor,” Pansy yelled at Ron. She wasn’t even going to acknowledge the half-bloods that stood to either side of Weasley. All three of the Gryffindor’s had drawn their wands now, only Draco and Daphne held out.
“Back off, Parkinson or I’ll have to make you uglier than you already are,” Dean threatened, glaring at the pug faced girl, his wand pointing directly at her.
“Hope you’re up for a challenge,” Ron bit out with a bark like laugh that made Pansy scowl, the facial expression making her even uglier.
“STUPEFY!” Pansy shouted, her patience wearing thin.
“Oh for fuck sake!” Draco shouted as he ducked down; a stupefy, from what sounded like Weasley, shooting just over his head as he withdrew his wand. “Did you have to, Pansy?”
“They were insulting me!” Pansy said between shouting curses.
“They were insulting all of us!” Draco snapped back at her, deflecting a bat bogey hex that had been sent towards him by Ron. “Also, if you hadn’t noticed, we were insulting them too!”
“Not very well,” Blaise grumbled.
“Oh and this is better is it? Duelling on a train?” Draco said as he put up a shield charm as a stinging hex came at him. Then seeing a leg-locker curse heading towards Daphne, he deflected that too. He wasn’t even sure why he had done it but he hadn’t wanted her to get hurt.
“Those damn Gryffindors had it coming!”
The duel went on for minutes; Blaise hit Dean with a body bind curse and his entire body locked up, enabling him useless in the duel. Draco had noticed that Seamus, like himself, had only been shielding and deflecting. He had to appreciate this fact seeing as it seemed the Irish wizard had no desire to be there anymore than he did.
“That is enough Ronald!” a stern female voice said behind the Gryffindors; a bushy haired girl with too large front teeth came suddenly into view.
“Shut up, Hermione,” Ron snapped, his wand still trained on the Slytherins. “Go stick your nose in a book!”
“If you don’t stop then I’m going to get the head boy and girl,” she told them matter-of-factly, glaring at them all.
“They’re Slytherins,” Ron pointed out, as though she was moronic for not noticing this fact. “Stupe-” he went to cry out but Hermione had already summoned his wand from his hand.
“This is ridiculous, Ron,” she told him huffily, throwing up a shield against a curse Nott tried to send at the now unarmed Gryffindor, which she thought was rather poor taste, though she wasn’t sure what else to expect from the Slytherins.
With Dean down, Seamus not using offensive spells and Hermione holding Ron’s wand, the assault on the Slytherins stopped and both Daphne and Draco lowered their own wands. The other Slytherins didn’t lower theirs but they did stop throwing curses and hexes towards their rivals at least.
“We didn’t need your help, mudblood,” Nott shouted callously at Hermione.
“Yes, helpful, Theo, let’s provoke them again now that they’ve stopped throwing spells at us,” Daphne said sarcastically sending Theo a warning glare.
“Just go,” Hermione snarled at the Slytherins, glaring at Theo for the offensive slur but having heard it so many times that it just didn’t bother her anymore. One of these days they might actually come up with something original and hurt her feelings, though knowing the Slytherins and their stupidity, probably not.
“Come on,” Draco said, taking the opportunity, he didn’t want to fight them anymore, he hadn’t wanted to fight them at all. He led Daphne away from them and he was fairly sure the other three were following them too, but he didn’t honestly care much; he could hear Granger ranting at Weasley and the others, but when a moment later he came across an empty compartment he led them inside and was more than happy to shut out the noise.
Taking a seat close to the window, and feeling it move as Daphne sat next to him, he stared out of the window. It was hardly the promising start to the holidays he had hoped for, but at least that was another thing to look forward to at the Manor; no more Gryffindors.
FGHP
“You’re never here anymore,” Sirius whined at Remus who was throwing things into a bag, “and I really don’t understand why you are packing to go to Hogwarts now, it’s the holidays, no one will be there.” He was trying to get his lover to stop and talk to him but the werewolf was determinedly focused on what he was doing. “You are going to have to come back in a couple of days for Christmas anyway,” Sirius argued, leaning over the suitcase that Remus was throwing books into to try and get his attention.
“I’m not spending Christmas here,” Remus told him bluntly; he had reached breaking point. Sirius was still lying to him about where he was disappearing off to and then there was the obsessing over Harry. It was clear that Sirius had lost himself to madness and Remus no longer even recognised the man he had once called his lover. He had tried to drag him back, keep him grounded in reality but there was clearly no helping him anymore.
“Wait, what?!” Sirius exclaimed, sure he must have heard wrong. Remus had been leaving him alone in the house so often lately, he was rarely home at all, and Sirius had been clinging to the knowledge that at least they would have a good old traditional Christmas together, the way it should have been; the only thing that would have been missing was Harry. “You… you can’t just not spend Christmas with me, I’m your lover.”
“That would require you to love me, and nothing you have done recently makes me believe that you do. It would also require me to love you in return, and I’m just not sure that I can any more,” Remus told him sadly, avoiding his eyes as he clipped shut one of his cases. The action had so much finality to it that it made his heart ache.
“Of course I love you, and you love me,” Sirius stated as though that should have been a given, as if he couldn’t believe that after all the years they’d been apart, after everything that had happened, this fact was unwavering in its truth. It had been the truth once but times had changed and time had changed them. “You promised me forever!” Sirius yelled angrily, trying to snatch the suitcase of books from Remus’ hand.
“Neither of us are the men we were back then, Sirius,” Remus tried to explain. “You need to find a way to let go of this blind obsessive fury of yours, decide to tell me the truth about what you’ve been doing when you vanish for hours on end in this godforsaken house and then maybe we can talk.”
When Sirius had grabbed for the suitcase Remus had let go of it without a fight; he would rather have taken his books with him but he would just come back for them another time if he had to, either way he was moving to Hogwarts today and staying there for the foreseeable future, he just couldn’t be here anymore.
“What about Harry? You will come and tell me about Harry, right? And you will tell him about me, he has a right to know about me,” Sirius said, dropping the suitcase and following after Remus as he headed out into the hall. Harry was what mattered, Harry had to know about him, he had to be sure that Remus would still tell him.
“Let it go, Sirius,” Remus suggested rather forcefully, turning around to glare at the other man. “This isn’t about you, it is about what is best for Harry and you are most definitely not it. If I have any say in the matter I won’t be letting him anywhere near you until you get a grip of yourself.”
“James would never…” Sirius started to say as Remus tried to walk away from him again but bringing their deceased friend into the argument had clearly been the wrong move to make and was a push too far for the werewolf whose temper was already reaching breaking point.
“Don’t you EVER try to use James against me. He was MY best friend too,” Remus told him, as if Sirius needed to be reminded of this fact, Remus' eyes flashing with pure rage as he jabbed a finger in Sirius’ direction. “I loved him and Lily just as much as you did, Sirius; I loved... love Harry just as much as you.”
“He wouldn’t want…” Sirius began to say but quickly stopped talking when he saw the rage that bubbled in his lovers eyes.
“NO, shut the fuck up,” Remus yelled; he never swore, he hated it, but Sirius was just saying all the wrong things, he was making things worse.
He had half wanted for his old friend to stop him from leaving, but he wanted apologies and understanding, he wanted promises of change, but instead he was getting accusations and anger. He had known in his heart it was wishful thinking before he had even shown up at the house. Apparently Sirius just didn’t realise that there was anything wrong with his behaviour. Remus just hadn’t realised how much of a lost cause his now ex-lover had become, Sirius wasn’t even really fighting to save their relationship.
“James would hate what you’ve become and he wouldn’t want his son anywhere near you,” Remus told him with absolute certainty, trying to keep the anger and the spite from his tone. He wanted Sirius to understand that his words were not spoken in the heat of the moment because of their argument, his words were the truth. “I’m not so sure that he would want to be near you himself. I sure don’t want to be right now.”
“Remus, you can’t leave me,” Sirius said, as the werewolf turned and started to walk away. “Remus,” he called repeatedly when he didn’t stop and showed no signs of waiting. “You can’t,” he insisted, unable to believe that he was losing his lover, his connection to the outside world, his connection to Harry.
Remus hadn’t been this angry since the night he had been told of the death of the Potters; he would have to send an elf or something to get the rest of his belongings, because he was done with it all. He was done with Grimmauld Place, he was done living in the past, he was done with Sirius. For his own sanity he had to get out before Sirius dragged him down too.
“I can’t?” Remus challenged. “You just watch me,” he said; throwing floo powder into the fireplace and, calling out ‘the Hogshead’, he left in a burst of emerald green flame.

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Fragmented Soul