Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Freedom Bound in Chains	By : TaintedSensibly Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 58478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 13
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Harry Potter characters. I did not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 27
- 28
- 29
A/N: The therapy sections of this chapter has been reworked after receiving feedback. I tried out a new POV and style, but it was unsuccessful during that section of the story, so I went back and reworked it. Thank you all for making me a better writer.
Spirit of the Hunt
Remus woke to his third morning in Lusio thinking that it felt like they'd been there for much longer. Ever since his capture, his sense of time had become distorted. He wondered if it'd always be that way now. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and faced a small square window. Soft dawn light filtered in through the cream curtains. Pushing them aside, he could see fog hugging the ground. He pressed his palm to the glass, and it felt cold to the touch.
He mechanically went through his routine of dressing and brushing his hair and teeth before making his way downstairs. The house was quiet, Laila and the boys sleeping. Remus used the time alone to prepare his first cup of tea and gather as much enthusiasm as he could muster.
It wasn't long before Draco strode into the room with Harry a little more sleep-tousled and blurry-eyed following behind him. The sight never failed to bring a genuine smile to his face.
“Good morning,” he offered softly.
“Morning,” Draco muttered as he took a seat at the small table.
As he moved toward the cold cabinet and stove, Harry answered with a sleepy smile, “Good morning, Remus.”
Remus watched a moment as the little boy began to cook before taking his now customary seat across from the blond. “Still planing on going into the forest?”
Draco stared at him through unblinking grey eyes. “Why?”
“I took a walk yesterday and noticed there's a workshop on Shamanic magic today. It might be interesting.”
Draco sat up, interested. “What's that?”
Remus smiled and took a sip of tea. “Shamanism is a type of magic Native American and other primitive cultures practice. I don't know much about it, but today's workshop is going to focus on dream magic and visions.”
“Visions...” Draco's eyes drifted to Harry who was humming as he fried some eggs. “What kind'a visions? Like about the future?”
“Sometimes,” Remus agreed. “I believe Shamanic visions usually reveal truths about yourself, past and present, but they can also reveal things about what is to come.”
Draco's attention shifted back to him. “When is it?”
“It begins after lunch, so you and Harry would have to have your session with Laila after breakfast if you want to attend.”
Draco shrugged, but Remus could see the light of interest in his eyes. “Yeah. Okay.”
Remus hid a smile behind his tea cup. The boy was a voracious learner, always hungry to learn new things and curious about the world around him. He was also wise beyond his years. It would not surprise him if Draco was sorted Ravenclaw. Of course, he was vicious, ambitious, and cunning as hell, too, so a good candidate for Slytherin as well.
Thinking about it further, Draco was also Gryffindor brave. Although Draco was the type to think things through and weight the consequences, which wasn't very typical of a Gryffindor. He was also fiercely loyal and was willing to work hard, although he didn't seem to enjoy it. No. He would either be sorted Ravenclaw or Slytherin; Remus would put money on it.
As for Harry... He smiled at the little boy as he placed a warm plate of breakfast in front of him. “Thank you, Harry.”
Harry smiled, a happy flush pinking his cheeks. He took a seat at the table and waited for both Draco and Remus to take a bite and praise him before he began eating.
Remus sighed around the delicious food. As much as he wished Harry would be Gryffindor like both of his parents, the boy screamed Hufflepuff. Loyal and hardworking described him perfectly.
“What're you thinkin',” Draco asked around a forkful of eggs. He regarded Remus suspiciously.
“You look sad,” Harry added with concern.
Remus smiled. “I was thinking about Hogwarts,” he admitted. “Did I ever tell you about the four Houses?”
“No.” Harry perked up, eyes bright. He clearly enjoyed Remus's stories.
Remus chuckled. “Well, I was in Gryffindor. It's the house of Bravery and Recklessness. The others are Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin...”
He spent the whole of breakfast telling them about the four Houses. He had them laughing within minutes as he described the antics students from each House got up to during his time at the school. Laila entered as he finished telling them about a certain Hufflepuff. She would dispense extra deserts that were provided by a House Elf she'd made a connection with. The things she named as her price were always random and unusual and had the boys giggling.
“Good morning,” Laila greeted them with a yawn.
She wore a pink cotton dress that fell a few inches short of her ankles and big brown boots. A big white belt wrapped around her waist and emphasized her wider hips and full breasts. She gestured for Harry to stay seated as the boy stood to fetch her plate. She got it herself and brought it and a mug of coffee to the table, taking the fourth and final seat.
“How'd everyone sleep?” she asked as she took a gulp of her by now lukewarm coffee.
“Very well,” Remus answered with exaggerated formality, making Harry smile. “And yourself?”
“I feel much better, thank you.” She answered snootily, following Remus's lead. Even Draco – who had grown watchful as Laila had entered – was smiling by now.
“The boys and I are going to attend the Shamanic workshop. Would it be okay to have their session now instead of after lunch?”
“Of course!” She gave them a bright smile. “I'm glad you're interested in learning while you're here. We should see if we can get you tutoring, too. I wouldn't want you to fall behind in your reading and maths.” Taking a bite of her eggs, she gave a dramatic sigh and wink toward Harry. “Perfect, Harry. Thank you.”
Harry blushed again and smiled shyly at her. “You're welcome, Ms. Laila.”
Laila's eyes suddenly shifted, and Remus froze with his cup of tea halfway to his lips. He lifted an eyebrow in question.
“And when are you planning to have your session?”
Remus gave a rueful smile and ruffled the back of his hair. “Would after the workshop work for you or is it too late?”
“Nonsense,” Laila exclaimed. “It's as good a time as ever.” She gave a firm nod and took another big swig of her coffee.
Draco grinned wolfishly, and Remus blushed, knowing he'd been caught trying to avoid a session. Fortunately, Harry changed the subject. The boy turned to Laila and excitedly told her about the Houses at Hogwarts. She listened as she ate, nodding in the right spots. When he finally wound down, he asked her which House she thought she would have been in.
“I believe I would have been a Gryffindor. I have learned tact as I've grown older, but at eleven I was very much a 'speak first, think later' type of girl,” she said with a laugh, tossing her long dreads back over her shoulder. “I was pretty aggressive in my attempts to understand other people, and I was forever trying to help even when others didn't agree they needed it.”
Remus snorted, expression clearly stating that nothing much had changed.
“Hush, you,” Laila said with a laugh, smacking his shoulder playfully.
“What about Draco?” Harry asked curiously, smiling at the blond.
Draco answered with certainty. “I'd be Slytherin. I'm always plannin'.” He tugged playfully at a lock of Harry's wild, black hair.
Harry giggled. “And me?”
“Hufflepuff,” Remus, Laila, and Draco said simultaneously.
Harry stared around at them surprised, but then his eyes met Draco's. There was a long beat and then Harry's face turned bright red and he dropped his eyes shyly.
Remus tilted his head. Sometimes it seemed like the boys were communicating without saying a word. He made a note to ask Draco about it later.
“Well, are you ready to start, Draco? Remus can tell Harry more about Hogwarts while we have our session. Daylight's burning.” Laila pushed to her feet and offered an enthusiastic smile.
Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry's cheek before following Laila into the living room.
Harry still looked a bit flustered, but he was smiling widely. Remus couldn't help reaching forward to ruffle Harry's hair. “Well, pup. What kind of story would you like to hear?”
“I wanna hear more about Quidditch!” Harry exclaimed.
Remus laughed. “Alright. Well, Prongs was the only one of us who played for the House team. I remember one lively match against Slytherin...”
…
Draco entered the living room without hesitation. Laila was standing by a chair positioned to face the couch. He gave her a polite smile as he sat comfortably on the couch. As he sat, he bent one leg flat in front of him on the cushion in a half-lotus; the other dangled, hooked over the ankle of his folded leg, and kicked gently.
“Let's begin.” Laila sat in the living room chair and folded her hands in her lap. She gave him a bright smile, but there was an edge of fierceness and rebellion to it.
Draco had seen looks of that nature all his life; it was the look of someone doing something they knew they shouldn't. He reached up and hooked his hair more firmly around his ears and gave her a fierce smile in return. “Wha'd'ya got for me?”
“I am going to teach you a little psychology,” she began, dark eyes bright. “It will give you the ability to understand and even to manipulate the human mind.”
Draco tilted his head curiously. “I'm not supposed to know how ta do that, huh?”
“A little knowledge can be dangerous, especially paired up with a lack of ethics.” She shook her head, causing her dreads to fall around her shoulders and down her chest. “You have the basics of manipulation, but it's important for you to have an even stronger concept. For Harry's sake.”
Draco sat straighter. She'd had his attention before, but now it was like a laser.
“Psychology is merely the understanding of the interaction between the world and the inner self. At its simplest, the world gives us events, and we in turn give those events meaning by interpreting and acting upon them. There are four elements that you need to be aware of in order to truly understand the way people think. These elements are: input from the world, the person's responses to that stimuli, anticipation, and adaptability.”
His sole focus was on her words, on the new concepts she was expressing. It made him squint and his brow to wrinkle.
“Anticipation is someone's certain knowledge of the world, their "model" of it. This model includes everything from little details like which shoe you put on first to complex things like how you feel about yourself and your life. We use this “model” to anticipate -- expect, predict -- what will happen in the next moment or in the next ten years.”
That made sense. Anticipation – he was definitely aware of doing this all the time. In order to plan his escape from the Hold, in order to save Harry from the basement at Brendon's, in order to make decisions about Remus and the magic world, and even when he said goodbye to Liam – he used anticipation to make the best decision in all of those situations.
“Adaption comes into play when people don't anticipate well. Whenever a mistake is made, the person will go through an either quick or long process - depending on the degree of severity of the mistaken anticipation - to figure out what went wrong, what to do about it, how to make sense of it. As people do this, they are improving their understanding of the world and their relation to it; they are improving their mental "model" of the world.”
This was another concept that Draco understood. He had to adapt when he met Harry. He never anticipated someone loving him or loving someone else the way he loved Harry. It changed everything for him. Again when Brendon and Liam came into the picture. He never anticipated being able to trust an adult, but they proved him wrong and he had to adapt.
“Now, the key to truly understanding a person is the ability to recreate their “world model”, to think like them. If you can do this, then you will be able to predict their responses to stimuli as well as understand their anticipations of the world. However, even if you feel confident that you have a good understanding of someone's “model” and your ability to predict their reactions, remember the human quality of adaptation.”
Draco nodded. “Yeah. I can do that, but only for some types of people,” he admitted. Mostly he could do it with the filthy bastards that wanted to fuck him or hurt him. He understood that mindset and could anticipate what they'd do and even manipulate them to a small degree by using the very thing that motivated them.
Laila gave him a proud look. “You are a very bright boy, Draco. There's no doubt of that. I want you to broaden your skills. I want you to be able to understand most people if you choose.”
Draco was interested of course, but it also made him feel uneasy. When he understood a person that well, it changed who Draco was in turn.
Laila was unaware of Draco's worries and continued. “I will teach you how to recreate a “world model”, how to literally think like another person. This skill will be useful as you try to maneuver through society, but mostly I want you to understand this for Harry.”
Draco's waning attention as she strayed from the point snapped back. He sat absolutely still and stared at her unblinking.
Smile gentle now, Laila told him, “Harry's “world model” is highly distorted as I'm sure you're aware. His set of anticipations do not fit within functioning, healthy parameters. You need to be constantly aware of his “model of the world” so that you can enforce balance when he becomes unstable or self-destructive. If you can predict how he'll adapt, you'll able to predict what stimuli will shift his “model” in a more stable and healthy direction.”
“I already know...”
“How to get him stable,” Laila answered for him, impatient for the first time since they started. “I know you do this a little, but what if you could be even more effective and have the results last longer. You know that Harry's instability is something that you need help with or you wouldn't have agreed for me to come. Isn't that right?”
Draco remembered how Harry clung to him and barely spoke after the Scourers. He'd had no idea how to fix it until inspiration struck when they had arrived here and Draco put the collar around Harry's throat.
“Harry has no foundation to his reality. Everything is chaos in his head, but you eventually figured out how to orient Harry and give him a foundation to mentally stand on. In essence, you found a way to build a more stable “world model” for him. But it took you a few days and probably came to you as inspiration struck. I can teach you to consciously understand Harry and know exactly what he needs in order to stabilize.”
Expression fierce, looking nothing like a six-and-a-half year old, Draco looked into Laila's eyes and said, “Teach me.”
…
Harry left Remus and his stories behind as Draco came for him. He smiled at the blond as he was towed to the living room by the gentle grasp on his hand. Draco smiled back. His eyes were bright, and Harry's fear of the session ahead shrank. Laila was sitting in front of the couch again. She looked tired, but she didn't seem to be sick or upset anymore. Another layer of worry faded.
Draco sat in the corner of the couch and pulled Harry into his lap just as he had yesterday. Harry sighed in contentment and cuddled into Draco's embrace as the blond's arms settled around him. He felt his skin tingle as Draco held him and it took real effort to give his attention to Laila.
“Good morning, Harry. Thank you for joining us. I'm sorry if I disturbed you yesterday. I should have warned you that I can become emotional after connecting with someone's mind. Crying is a very common reaction that I have. After connecting to Draco's mind, I became very ill. Neither reaction is a reflection of what I saw. It just means that I worked really hard. For example, I'm sure you've worked so hard before that you felt faint or sick?”
“Yes,” he whispered and pressed deeper into Draco's hold. “I remember that a lot from before... before Draco.” He shuddered, hating to remember that time of unrelenting loneliness, confusion, and pain.
Laila gave him a gentle smile. “Well, that is what happens sometimes when I work hard with my mind. So I'd like to put yesterday behind us and begin again. If you are ready, I'd like to start.”
He gave a nod, still trying shake off the cloying memories of the past. Draco began to gently run his fingertips down Harry's arms in a slow, stroking motion and it helped Harry focus.
“Okay. Thank you, Harry.” She straightened in her seat and gave a soft clap of her hands. “Today I want to talk to you about perceptions. Perceptions are what we have about what things are. For example, you have the perception that Draco is safe. You have the perception that it is cold outside.”
Again Harry nodded to show he understood.
“I want to work with you on self-perceptions. People are many things all at the same time. Even if you can only see or understand one thing at a time, that does not mean they are not other things, too. For example, Draco is safe, but he's also still learning new things, he's able to be hurt, he's able to hurt others, he's able to love you, he's able to hate people who hurt him, and so on. You can't see all these at one time, but they are all still parts of what he's capable of at any given moment.”
A more hesitant nod this time. He kinda understood what she was saying, but not fully. He felt his anxiety rise. What if he disappointed Draco? What if he was too stupid?
“I'd like to work on your perception of yourself, Harry. You perceive that you are bad and ugly, yes? Well, I want you to consider deepening your understanding. You are other things, too. You are capable of loving Draco, of taking care of him, of protecting him to the best of your ability. You are capable of obedience, and you are useful – like when you cook breakfast or clean the house.”
“Give 'em a minute,” Draco told her. He began to run his hands through Harry's hair, pulling his bangs from his sweating forehead and tipping Harry's head back so that it rested on his shoulder.
Harry was panting, his heart was pounding in his chest. He helped Draco, healed him, but even though he could do those things in the moment, he never really thought of himself as helpful or useful. It was a extremely difficult concept and one that made him terrified to be punished.
He was bad! A filthy freak! He'd never think otherwise. He knew better.
You're mine, Harry. Mine to do with as I will.
Harry gasped, his eyes wide open but staring blindly up at the ceiling. Yes! Yours! His heart began to slow as he trusted in Draco's control. Harry didn't have to worry. Draco would tell him what to do, would tell him what he needed. Harry only had to obey and trust.
“It's okay, Harry,” Laila's voice came to him. “It's a hard thing to understand, but the reason why I want you to understand how many parts make up your whole is because it will make you stronger. As you grow stronger, your bond with Draco will also grow. And, one day, I hope you will be able to bring certain perceptions about yourself to the front when you choose. For example, if a situation needs you to be clever, you can bring your cleverness forward. If you need to be tough, you can find your toughness and be tough. Does that sound like something you would want to try to do?”
Harry felt his panic returning. “I-I can't!” He tried to turn to look at Draco, but the blond's arms held him still. Did Draco want him to do that? Would he hate him if Harry couldn't? A nearly silent whine built in his throat.
“It's okay that you don't think you can do it, Harry. But would you want to?” Laila pressed. She was leaning forward trying to stare into his eyes.
Harry was crying, defeated and hating himself. “Yes. I'd want to...” he admitted. Of course he did. He wanted to be good! He did. But he was bad...
“Okay. Then we will try.” Laila patted him on the knee. “We will not say we cannot do it until after we have tried a few times, yes?”
Harry didn't answer. He didn't want to try because he knew it wouldn't work. He didn't want Draco to see him fail. But that was wrong. It didn't matter what he wanted. It was what Draco wanted that mattered. He had to be good and do what Draco wanted. Going limp, he finally nodded.
Laila gave him a big smile, but Harry could feel how tense Draco was behind him. Harry didn't cringe. He accepted Draco's anger as right. He was bad and he'd already proved it by not obeying Draco right away. Draco should punish him, should teach him to be good. In response to the wishful thinking, Draco's hands clamped down around his wrists hard enough to hurt a little and Harry's body arched slightly in anticipation.
Yes! Fix me! Make me better! he babbled in his mind.
“Okay,” Laila was saying. Harry was hardly listening. “We are going to practice your perception of being useful. I want you to think of a time you were useful. Can you do that? Draco can help you if you need him to.”
Focus, Harry. Draco's voice licked inside his mind. It was demanding and hard.
Harry tried to obey, but he couldn't think of a time!
Remember when you first met me? Remember when you washed my cuts and made the pain go away? That was useful, Harry, and then you became mine.
Harry gasped, warmth and love and need pooling in his gut and sending his heart thundering in his chest. Yes! He was Draco's! Heal Draco, love Draco!
Remember it, Harry.
Harry obediently closed his eyes and remembered. He'd been so cold, terrified, and sick. Finally bad enough to be tossed away. Then he'd met Draco. With the grey eyes and white hair. He'd given him food and spoke to him. Then he'd gone and when he'd come back...
Harry remembered that moment. He didn't know why he'd touched the boy. He knew better by that point than to touch other people and get his filthiness all over them. But the way the boy had sat so still and stiffly, clearly in pain... Harry had wanted to help him so badly it had overridden the fear and the good sense not to touch. He'd taken the blanket and began to clean the boy's wounds, wishing with all his heart to do this one thing for the boy, to do one good thing because the boy needed it.
Laila's voice slipped into the memory. “Good, Harry. You're doing really well. Now, this is a very special journal. I want you to write down “I am useful” on the top of the first page while holding that memory, that feeling, inside as hard as you can.”
Harry cracked his eyes open, half his attention on his memory of the blond boy who was hurting. Draco helped him prop the blank book open on his lap and helped him hold the pen. It was a feathered pen and he almost lost the memory at the strangeness of it all, but he felt Draco nudge him mentally. He went back to the memory of washing the hurt boy's skin and the fierce wish to help him.
“Can't spell...” he whispered after he dutifully wrote the “I am” at the top of the page.
“It's okay to need help,” Laila told him. “It's spelled u-s-e, f-u-l.
Harry wrote the word, only half seeing if he was doing it right. He was caught up in the moment when Draco had told him he'd made him feel better. That he'd done good. The joy of that moment, a happiness he'd never felt before, it brought tears to his eyes even now. He looked down and gasped as a picture began to appear on the page.
It showed Draco and Harry naked and in the Hold, both so skinny their ribs showed clearly. Harry was even more stick-thin, so ugly next to Draco, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the look on hurt Draco's face. The surprise and happiness there. Harry had helped him!
“Good job, Harry.” Laila clapped her hands with a big grin. “You did exactly right or it wouldn't have been able to draw the picture. And on the first try, too!”
Harry ducked his head in embarrassment. Draco hugged him from behind.
“If you forget how many pieces of you there are,” Laila continued. “You can look back in this journal to remind you. We're going to fill it up with all the things you are. This week I want you to remember a different useful memory every day for seven days. Write “I am useful” at the top and remember really hard just like you did now. Next week we'll try a new thing that you are. But, this is important Harry, Draco or I will choose what you are to write. I don't want you to write down what you are without one of us, okay?”
“Yes,” Harry agreed easily, cuddling into Draco's embrace.
Such a good boy, Draco murmured into his mind, gentle as a caress.
Harry shivered and felt like his skin was on fire.
“You did so good today,” Laila said, unknowingly echoing Draco's praise. She tossed her long dreads over her shoulder, smiling happily at him. “Thank you for your time. We'll do some more tomorrow. Now, go on. I know you want to get lunch ready. Scoot!”
Harry hurried to his feet and headed for the kitchen, leaving the strange journal behind. Draco followed him and caught him by the wrist just as they made it into the other room. He turned and was pressed hard against the wall, Draco's mouth coming down on his.
Harry gasped, his whole world lighting up as Draco's tongue stroked along his own and licked at the top of his mouth. He moaned and went pliant in Draco's hold. Draco's hand came up and pressed the collar against his skin, making his throat tight. Harry was Draco's and everything was good.
…
Draco kissed Harry breathless until the last vibration of anxiety and self-hate disappeared from the bond. Finally pulling away from Harry's mouth, he panted against the boy's swollen lips. Harry's glasses were eschew, his pupils wide and eyes glazed. Draco felt the echo of the warmth pooling in Harry belly and lower and shivered. He pressed his hips against the smaller boy and contemplated finishing things when Remus stepped into the kitchen.
The man froze as he saw them pressed up against each other, their mouths slick and red and swollen. Draco smirked and moved away from Harry, dropping his hand from the boy's throat. He met Remus's eyes challengingly, but the many looked away.
Clearing his throat, Remus said, “The workshop is about to start.”
Draco glanced at Harry who was only now beginning to blink back into awareness. He took the boy's hand gently into his own. Catching Remus's eyes, he jerked his chin to the door. “After you.”
Without comment, Remus obediently turned and led the way to the center of town. It wasn't far. Only two houses over and the small cottages stopped and a lawn of grass started. The clearing was covered in thick green grass, and if it weren't such a cold day, Draco would've had his shoes off to feel it on his feet.
In the very center of the lawn, stood the large wooden gryphon overlooking it all. It stood taller than three men standing on each other's shoulders. It's head was lifted toward the sky, the beak looking sharp. It's wings were held close to it's back and one forepaw was half-lifted. Even though it was wood, it was so realistically carved that Draco kept one eye on it, expecting it to move. And really, with magic involved, it wasn't impossible.
The rest of his attention was on the eight adults ranging from Remus's age to old and stooped, with the exception of two teenagers, one boy and one girl. They gathered at the front of the statue and talked quietly amongst themselves. The teenage girl noticed them first and her eyes immediately went to Harry even though he was trailing behind both Remus and then Draco.
Draco blanked his face and mentally told Harry. - Some people might know you 'cause your magical parents were famous. Just ignore it and focus on me if you feel nervous. -
- surprise confusion – Green eyes burned through the back of his head and Draco wished he'd thought to talk to Harry about this before coming. He'd gotten distracted with Laila's sessions.
The casual chattering stopped as they arrived. Remus cleared his throat and introduced himself and them. He carefully didn't use last names, but still eyes flashed to Harry's head. Harry kept his eyes on the ground, took deep breaths, and held tight to Draco's hand. Draco's cold glare quickly had people turning away and talking to Remus instead of bombarding them, and Draco flashed Harry a reassuring smile.
Harry smiled back – relief uncertainty gratitude -
An old Native American man arrived. He used a staff, but the ornate symbols and feathers decorating it made it clear to Draco that it was used for more than a walking stick. He wore pale brown leather pants also with ornate stitching, a matching vest, and slipper-like shoes. His long hair was silver-white and tied into low pigtails that fell over the front of his shoulders and down his chest. His face was creased and wrinkled with time, but his voice was strong and deep as he greeted them.
The group settled on the ground around the old man and listened silently as he described the magic of Vision Quests. He talked about the world being made up of spirits: animal spirits, plant spirits, nature spirits, weather spirits, moon spirits, sun spirits... Everything in the universe had a unique spirit, and if one listened, those spirits would communicate special messages through visions.
He talked about how to empty the mind and body, to quiet the ego, the self, that interferes with true listening. He talked about plants that could be eaten or smoked that could help open the mind to these messages. He told stories of the spirits that talked most to him, that of Bear and Eagle. He even offered to do a full Vision Quest, which required fasting for four days and camping in the forest away from human influence, with anyone who wished to undertake it. For now, they had missed dinner and would try a small vision quest as the sun set. He warned it could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to until the sun rises again. Anyone who did not feel comfortable undertaking the experience was free to leave.
Draco noticed a few people get up and leave. Remus shot him a questioning glance, but Draco nodded his head that they would stay. In the end, six of them stayed, including both of the teenagers. The old Shaman made seven. Remus whispered that seven was a good number. Seven signified completeness and perfection. Draco was confused, however, on why they would include the Shaman since he was merely a guide and not actually on a Vision Quest, but he didn't have time to ask.
The Shaman had them shift so that they were sitting in a circle around the gryphon. Draco ended up directly facing it's back. Harry was to his right and Remus was on Harry's right. They sat close enough to each other that Draco and Harry could clasp hands if they stretched out their arms. On Draco's left, sat the teenage boy. He already had his eyes closed. He seemed really serious about this Vision Quest.
“It is important that you do not come into this experience with questions or desires,” the Shaman intoned, voice deep and melodious. He spoke slowly and with purpose. “You are to be empty. You are to Listen. Your job is to be nothing... Do nothing... But be open to the Spirits. Often they speak in metaphor and images. I will be available to help interpret any vision you have, but it is important that you do not try to shape the vision at any time. You are to receive only and be accepting.”
As he spoke, he lit thin sticks of wood. A clean, sharp scent drifted on the breeze. He began to walk around the circle at their backs, trailing thin trails of smoke behind him.
“Now close your eyes. Take a deep breath. More. Take all the Air in the world into your lungs. Do not think. Just be the Air. In and in. Until all there is... is air. Then let it out. Slowly. You are Wind. You are the sound in the leaves. The movement of the grass. Out. And then bring it in. All the way in. You are Air... Out... You are the Wind. Hear it. Feel it.”
The rhythm of his words blended with the soft chirsh of his steps on the grass as he walked a circle around them.
“Feel the last of the Sun on your skin. Feel the warmth. Embrace it. Let it fill you up. As you continue to breathe in Air and breathe out Wind. Take the Sun – the warmth, the energy, the life – take it inside your stomach. Feel it fill up your empty belly. Feel it expand and grow warm. Slowly take in Air... and out become the Wind...”
Draco was only vaguely aware of the sound of the wind picking up, of the forest beginning to sing. He was hardly aware of his eyes being shut. He awareness was on his warm belly and the air moving in and out of his lungs. And the voice that sank deep inside his mind.
“Feel the energy of Life around you... Feel the energy in the Forest... Feel the coming Winter in the Air... The cold is coming... The time when the Earth sleeps and Dreams... Feel the Dream stirring in the base of your brain... Open your mind to the energy all around you... And Listen...”
…
Draco was running. The forest was his domain. He was powerful and strong. The ground passed quickly beneath his paws. His scales shed the water that fell. Tongue lolling out of a mouth filled with sharp teeth, he ran on. His muscles moved with strength and flexibility, he could turn in a flash. His ears caught every little sound and his eyes every slight movement in the the ferns and trees around him. He was Freedom!
His ears twitched and he glanced to the side to see a fawn, all spindly legs, gracefully running at his side. It bounded and leapt, keeping pace. It's round soft nose stretched forward, wide ears twitched, but the liquid dark eyes always returned to Draco.
He spun and gently tackled the young deer. It tumbled to the ground and sat up, legs sprawled, it's soft nose butting against Draco's cheek. Draco inhaled the scent of the gentle animal and rumbled happily, licking a line over the fawn's pale throat. Soft lips nibbled at his scaled ear, making him rumble again.
Panting, he lay comfortably on the bed of ferns, trees a sheltering wall around them. The fawn was tucked against his side, head draped across Draco's back. His eyes snapped to the side to see small golden lights dancing in the shadows of the trees. He watched in interest, undisturbed.
Then more lights appeared. His ears flicked as his eyes snapped in new directions. They were quickly surrounded. His ears slowly pinned back, his lips curling up to reveal sharp teeth. The fawn's head lifted, ears flicking as it looked around innocently.
Draco got to his feet, claws slipping out, legs braced and spread, head lowered. If he had fur instead of scales his hackles would have raised. As it was, his muscles contracted and the scales made a menacing hissing sound as they slid against each other. The fawn stayed folded on the ground, head lowered, trusting in his protection.
Lunging forward, Draco snapped his jaws in warning. High tinkling laughter answered his action.
Growling now, anger hot in his blood, Draco whipped his head to the side to see a golden light larger than the others approach. He turned to face it, stalking forward, and the light grew rapidly until a naked woman with golden hair that flowed and wove in the air and across her body on nonexistent winds stood in front of him.
She had eyes a blue that hadn't existed before this moment and the most beautiful smile. She crouched, the way her body flowed and bent just slightly alien. Draco stared into her eyes and felt a feeling like falling. She spoke. Words of appreciation, of admiration for his form. She stroked along his head, delighting in his form of perfect death. She wanted to play –
- come play with me – kill – hunt – run – free -
Draco tore away from her as his instincts screamed. He lunged at a male and snapped his jaws closed in a flash on the slender arm that had reached for his fawn.
- Mine! - Kill you! - he snarled as the male screamed.
The creature's face distorted, his mouth opening grotesquely. Slowly his golden light bled black, his skin bleached white as the moon, his hair black as the darkest night. He opened a too-wide mouth full of sharp piranha teeth and grinned.
Draco shook his head with a violent snap, throwing the creature to the ground. It gave another scream of pain and rage. Holding the arm prisoner, his teeth sawing, Draco lashed his paw forward with deadly claws to end the threat. But his mouth was empty, the male suddenly standing at the edge of the clearing. His arm was painted in red spirals, but he was whole, his sharp-toothed smile open in a hungry laugh.
Draco snarled and snapped as the golden creatures flickering in the shadows slowly flamed black, the golden lights going out one by one. He backed up to stand protectively over his fawn and growled as the golden woman stepped closer with her too-blue eyes sparkling.
She spoke again, still with that gentle smile. She was amazed and amused that he was mated. Offered to include his mate. Draco would - hunt – play – kill - with the black, and his mate would - run – fun – freedom – follow in the Hunts wake, safe with her. Afterward they'd - dance - play – pleasure – joy –
Three times three; it was a promise they had made unknowingly, and they must finish their game...
Play with us (sweet tinkling bells) Come play (dark ravenous calls to the hunt)...
Draco lifted his head and howled as bloodlust overcame him... He lunged forward, deep into the shadows of the forest... The dark lights fell in behind and beside him, echoing his bloodthirsty howl...
The Hunt was on...
…
Remus sat cross-legged on a rocky mountain side. Pine trees dotted the landscape here and there, filling the air with their clean scent. Around the curve of rock and dirt, the click of claws sounded. A huge wolf stepped forward.
Remus held his breath, eyes wide as he took in the beauty of the large male. His fur was grey with a mix of black and brown at the tips. His eyes were enormous, a perfect gold. It trotted forward until their noses were almost touching and breathed in his face. Remus flinched, expecting the smell of death and blood, but all he smelled was warmth.
He felt the Wolf begin to speak...
- Running – strength – freedom – The ground moving underneath your body. The absolute joy of it... - pack – family – wholeness – love – safety - warmth – The feel of warm bodies breathing in sync with your own. Together in a way humans do not comprehend. Living only on the condition of that togetherness. To not be you but always us... - Hunting – killing – defending – Senses so sharp they nearly cut. Feeling prey move on the ground. Hearing it, tasting it, smelling it, before ever seeing it. Being faster/stronger. Rewarded with the feel of flesh giving way in his jaws. The taste of blood that warms the belly, the deep hunger assuaged. The pride of seeing the Pack eat, grow strong, survive... - joy – freedom – unburdened – Snapping and wrestling, playing, laughing, true happiness...
To be Wolf.
All that was Wolf twisted into something that was not Natural, something Made-By-Man, a crazed thing. An unharmonious blending of Man and Wolf. Something rabid, blood-crazed, moon-crazed. Remus could actually feel the massive spell. Felt how it marked the beginning of the extinction of Wolf, stole their essence to fuel the Enchantment. The weight of that spell, it was an unstoppable wave pressing forward through time, but...
But...
Wolf and Man were fierce souls. If they could somehow meet where the bloody edges of the spell mangled them together... If they could smooth and sooth that edge even just a little...
Perhaps they could be less deformed, less crazed... Perhaps they would be more Wolf than Monster...
…
Remus gasped as he came back to himself. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass. The waxing moon a week and a half from being full hung above him. The cold wind brushed his face. He felt dampness there and knew he'd been crying. Scrubbing at his tears awkwardly, he tried to get to his feet.
He staggered against the gryphon statue, his legs numb. His whole body was numb really. Even through his layers, the night had the bite of winter. Slowly he realized there were hushed voices talking somewhere nearby. He frowned at the urgency he heard there.
Stumbling, he made his way around the statue. No one was sitting around it. He must be the last. He looked and saw a group of people talking at the edge of the clearing near one of the houses. He limped and stumbled, seeing Laila bundled up in the mix. The voices grew hushed as he approached and he felt his heart begin to beat. His mind began to wake up. The vision began to fade away as alarm took it's place.
“What happened?” he demanded, voice a croak. “Where are the boys?”
Laila reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Gone. One minute they were there, the next they were just gone with no one remembering them go or sensing a spell.”
“I was guarding the circle,” the old Shaman spoke. He was leaning heavily on his staff. “I was watching. I saw nothing. They were just gone.” He looked toward the forest. “Only powerful Spirits could have done that. I believe they were spirited away and are running with them now. We must wait for them to return.”
“And when will that be?” Remus snapped. His heart pounded hard and fierce in his chest... Harry... Draco...
“Likely at dawn, or the next dawn. It is an impossible thing to know. The Spirits will do as they will.”
Remus felt his blood boil. “Worst case scenario,” he bit out.
The old Shaman bowed his head and reluctantly admitted, “I have witnessed times where children are returned the next morning, but I have also seen times where weeks, months, even years have passed before their return.” Dark eyes meeting Remus's, he confessed, “And sometimes they are not returned at all.”
Remus spun and began to stride toward the forest. He remembered his promise to the Asclepius. Remembered the promise he'd made to Liam, the brother who would have died for those boys had he been allowed. Remembered the promise he gave to Laila to help guide, protect, and nurture the boys.
“Remus! No!” Laila grabbed his arm, but he yanked away. She kept step with him. “Please, Remus. Can't you feel it? The power in the air? It's too dangerous! Let's wait until daytime and look for them.”
Remus stared straight ahead, his voice calm when he answered her. “You know as well as I do that if they got spirited away, they have crossed the boundary between two planes of existence. It will be too wide to cross during the day.”
“We don't want to cross!” Laila protested. She tried to catch his arm again, but Remus dodged. “We want to bring them back. We'll think of something, Remus! Don't be foolish! What will getting lost do?”
Remus finally stopped, making her almost fall. Meeting her eyes, he spoke solemnly. “I appreciate all you've done, but please understand that nothing will stop me from going after the boys. You can do as you wish from this end, but their best chance is if I can reach them and guide them back.”
“Oh, Remus.” Laila covered her mouth for a moment before reaching forward to clasp his hands in hers. They remained limp in her grip, not holding back. “You know that's near impossible. Those who are taken can't be forced back. They either come or they don't.”
“Then I will be lost with them.”
Remus stepped backward. When she she didn't reach for him again, he turned and began to jog between the houses. The forest loomed before him. Laila was right. He could feel it breathing, alive in a way it wasn't before, as if there was a new layer to reality. The Darkness was alive. Picking up speed, Remus ran between the trees and felt as if he were running into an open mouth waiting to swallow him whole.
Chapter end.
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Freedom Bound in Chains