Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Fragmented Soul	By : StrawberryGirl87 & Bickymonster Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 79703 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything in the fandom. no money/profit is made.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter 4 - Found
“Come on,” Harry hissed in excitement. He and Clay had been organising this clandestine expedition between themselves for weeks now and both were anxious to get going. It was the eve of Harry’s fifteenth birthday and they had decided that it didn’t matter what their fathers had said on the matter, they were going out and they were going to celebrate. Not that they had told their father’s anything about what they were planning.
Harry had waited until Severus had gone to bed at ten, transformed into his animagus form, which took the form of a tan and brown flecked falcon before flying out of his bedroom window and over to Clay’s house. It was a trip he would make frequently as a bird of prey and he was more than accustomed to avoiding the power lines and other such dangers in the air between his and his best friend’s house.
Severus had always been a light sleeper and for that reason he was hard to sneak past, which was why Harry had had to be stealthy and become his animagus so not to make any noise. Damon on the other hand was harder to wake than the dead once he was deep asleep, which he had been for the last hour by the time Harry had arrived. This was why the two young teenagers would apparate in and out from Clay’s bedroom, though they would still be erecting silencing charms just in case. They didn’t want to be caught.
The two of them planned to apparate to the club together. The place they wanted to go to was only a handful of miles away and seeing as they had both been taught how to apparate they planned to make good use of their abilities. The only other way of travelling they could use without parental help was flying via their broom sticks but neither had thought that this was a good idea as the risk that they would be seen greatly increased and it would take far longer as well.
The plan for the evening had been hatched when Clay had seen an advertisement for a ‘sixteen and over’ club in one of the local papers in town. Even though it was a muggle thing, it wasn’t far from their home in Ingleton. The club had an air of the forbidden about it as they were still a year too young to go, which made them all the more eager.
They were both aware that neither Severus nor Damon would have let them go if they had asked and both fathers would have had very good reasons for not wanting their son’s to be in that place, far away from their protective wards and such; but they were two fifteen year old teenage wizards, who very rarely got any interaction with anyone other than each other, and they were in dire need of some fun. Clay understood the need to be cautious more than Harry did but then he was more aware of the dangers. Harry had been kept fairly uninformed by Severus who hadn’t wanted his son to have to worry about such things at such a young age.
They had both ensured that they had their wands with them. Harry had found a spell in one of his father’s books that allowed him to carry it even while in his animagus form. It was a complicated spell but after several days of practice he had perfected it without guidance from his Dad, who would have only asked questions as to why he needed to know this particular bit of magic.
Both Harry and Clayton had agreed that it would be better for their safety if they took their wands with them. It would give them piece of mind that they would be able to protect themselves with their magic if something went wrong. However they hoped that it wouldn’t and this would be just a precaution. Clay was overly aware of how his Alpha would feel about the two of them going off on their own in such a reckless manner but he was willing to take the risk, they just had to be careful. It was just a muggle club and one that didn’t serve alcohol either, he didn’t think there would be anything to worry about.
Clay wasn’t worried though, they were planning to be back in their own beds safe and sound by five o’clock in the morning at the very latest. Severus always rose at six no matter the day or the time of year, so it would give them enough leeway in case anything held them up.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Clay grumbled as he secured his wand up the sleeve of the light blue shirt he was wearing. They had special arm bands that ensured that their wands would be kept out of sight, strapped to their forearms but easily accessible if necessary. Harry had been practicing using his holly and phoenix feather wand without releasing it from its harness and his efforts were coming on nicely, however the more powerful the spell the harder it was to perform in this way.
Both of the teenagers were very capable at apparating but it had already been decided that they would be going together, Harry would hold on to Clayton and then the former would apparate them both so as not to risk being separated. They were so excited that they didn’t quite trust themselves not to mess it up in their haste to arrive. Harry was by far the more practiced and more reliable when it came to this form of travelling, Clay was more than happy to leave it up to him. He much preferred his skateboard as a form of getting around or his broom but he had to admit that this was a lot faster.
Clay knew that Fenrir and Damon would lose their shit if anything happened to Harry tonight so he had to make sure that nothing did. He took his best friend by the hand, grinning madly with excitement. They had never done anything remotely like this expedition before but with them both now being fifteen years old seemed like a good reason to break the rules.
Aside from a few pranks it wasn’t as if they broke the rules often and the two of them were kept on such a short leash that it wasn’t surprising that they were itching to get out and explore the world, or at least do something they would never be allowed to do otherwise. They wouldn’t be drinking, they’d come home in one piece and their parents need never know what they had done.
Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes and focused. He needed to make sure he got this right. Remembering what his Dad had taught him; destination, determination and deliberation. The two of them were suddenly compressed together, seemingly forced into a narrow tube. Harry gripped Clayton’s hand tighter as he struggled to find his breath. When he opened his eyes again, somewhat tentatively, he saw that he was exactly where he wanted to be. The two of them were tucked into a little alley across the road from the over 16’s club that declared its name ‘heaven’ in bright red neon lights across the main entrance.
The two of them took off towards the club, which was protected by a large and aggressive looking male bouncer, the door was adorned with a long queue of impatiently waiting teenagers, all of them of varying ages but none looking older than eighteen or nineteen. Neither Harry nor Clayton were intending to join the queue or to wait patiently until they were granted admittance. That was something they would leave to the muggles. They looked to one another, smiled and nodded before subtly casting notice-me-not spells on themselves before slipping past both the queue and the bouncer without anyone trying to stop them.
The sound of the live music assaulted their ears the minute they stepped inside. The club boasted bands on most nights it was open and the evidence of this almost deafened the werewolves with their supernaturally over-sensitive hearing but neither seemed to mind as neither could keep the smiles off their faces. A pool table in one corner was surrounded by people as two men played competitively for the pile of cash on one side of the table. The band set up on the opposite corner of the room, closest to the bar.
The music itself was indie/rock and had drawn in quite a crowd for the night. A lot of the patrons were dancing unashamedly, a few of the young girls wearing far too few clothes, their skirts barely covering their behinds and tops so low cut Harry thought that their breasts might fall out at any given moment, it wasn’t something he wanted to see but Clayton was practically drooling.
“Let’s grab a drink,” Harry suggested; taking Clay by the scruff of his shirt laughing as he dragged him towards the bar. His attention had been on a blonde girl on the dance floor who had been swaying her hips rather seductively in time with the music, mesmerizing not only Clayton but a fair few other young men in the room.
“Umm … yeah,” Clay agreed a little distracted, never taking his eyes off the girl who had captivated his attention so aptly, as they made their way to the bar to order. They were served by a cheerful red haired young man who smiled at them politely and gave them their cokes without fuss.
“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” Harry asked, motioning to the blonde that Clay just couldn’t stop staring at. Harry, despite his preferences for his own gender, could still appreciate that she was stunning, her breasts on display in her too tight cami, jeans riding too low on her hips exposing her waistline and pierced bellybutton; he could see why Clay had become so enthralled with her obvious beauty.
“You sure?” Clay asked a little sceptically. “You won’t be bored?”
Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I’m going to go and earn myself a little cash,” he responded with a cheeky grin as he nodded toward the pool table. Clay couldn’t help but be amused. Damon had put a pool table in their basement when he and Harry were twelve and the darker haired teen had become rather good at it. Not even Damon could win a game against him now. Severus had begrudgingly allowed him to enter a few local competitions which most of he had won but it wasn’t a hobby that the potion master had actively encouraged.
“Have fun,” Clayton said with a smirk, knowing that Harry was going to wipe the floor with the young men currently playing.
“Oh, you too,” Harry replied as they went in their own directions. Clay making a note to keep his friend within his eye line at all times. He couldn’t afford to get distracted and have something happen to Harry. The Alpha was scary enough without being in a towering temper as well.
The evening seemed to be going well. Clay had had his tongue down the blonde girl’s throat and had then moved on to at least two others’ after her. Harry had been more than content to just play pool and keep a watchful eye on his best friend, who seemed to be having way too much fun with the women. Not that they seemed to mind; Clay was of course a handsome young man who looked at least three years older than he was and seemed to interact and flirt with ease. He had a natural talent for it. Harry on the other hand was far more awkward when it came to talking to the guys he liked, not that he had had much opportunity.
He had however won every game of pool that he had played and his pockets were filled with the cash of some rather disgruntled young men who seemed to think that he was somehow cheating them out of their money. Harry however didn’t need to cheat, even when he could have used his magic to his advantage in the game he hadn’t.
“Anymore takers?” Harry asked with a satisfied grin as he potted the black for the twentieth time that evening. As the tall, tattooed guy he had just beaten glared at him, handing over his cash reluctantly to the triumphant younger teen. Harry seemed oblivious to the mounting dislike of his talent with a pool cue.
“What’s the fucking point when you’re cheating?!” It was the young man that he had just beaten and very clearly he was rather resentful of that fact. Harry however didn’t appreciate the insinuation that he wasn’t playing by the rules and told him so. “You have to be, you’ve not lost a single game!” The man continued to insist much to Harry’s annoyance.
“Maybe I’m just better than you,” Harry said, feeling a little giddy as he squared up to the older and taller teenager confidently. Harry had never been as tall as Clay but he wasn’t exactly short for his age either and he was able to meet the gaze of the angry young man who was trying to stare him down but Harry was going to be having none of it, the wolf in him wasn’t about to step down from a fight.
Across the room, on the dance floor with yet another beautiful young lady who had been dying for his attention, Clayton sensed the trouble that was brewing and immediately looked over to see where Harry was, spotting him as he squared up to an older teenager with a pierced lip and several tattoos. Neither looked particularly happy and without a word to the girl he abandoned her, making a bee line for his friend.
“Problem?” the older werewolf asked as he reached them, standing himself next to Harry, preparing to back him up if needed. He had been hoping for a trouble free evening but now that that wasn’t possible he was determined that Harry would at least make it home in the same condition he had come out in.
“Your mate’s been cheating and I want my money back!” The other teenager said with a disgusted look on his face as he sneered at Harry.
“Him, cheat? I doubt it; no one can beat him at pool, not even my dad and he’s been playing for years,” Clay said trying to keep the peace with his casual tone and small laugh but judging by the tension in the room he was failing miserably.
Whoever it was that Harry had pissed off, his mates were gathering around him now and he was a seemingly popular guy. They were all muggles though and not only were Harry and Clay well educated and knowledgeable wizards but they were both werewolves too. They may not have had the numbers but if it came to a fight there was no question regarding who would come out favourably. Clay was itching to remove his spruce and dragon heartstring wand and start sending jinxes towards the unsuspecting muggles, however he reframed, knowing that it would only cause more hassle than it was worth. They could still get home and never have to tell their fathers anything about what they had done this evening.
It was maybe the wolf part of their brains but they wouldn’t back down to these inferior creatures that would have been nothing more than an unsatisfying meal had the moon been full. The muggles were foolishly attempting to assert dominance over them. Instinctively, without even realising that they were doing it, neither Harry nor Clayton were about to let that happen, it was a matter of pride. The club bouncers however were more than accustomed to dealing with trouble makers and were quick to intervene before punches could be thrown.
Harry realised fairly quickly that he was going to have to tone down his confrontational tendencies which he knew were down to the part of him that was a werewolf. He didn’t want his friend to figure out what he was. Clayton, on the other hand, didn’t care about Harry discovering his other nature, he would soon enough anyway. It wouldn’t be long until Fenrir would claim him for the Pack, regardless of what Severus had to say on the matter.
“Break it up boys,” the gruff voice of the bouncer said, he towered over all of them and was broader than Harry and Clay put together. The two teen wolves were not fearful however, they were fuelled by the arrogance of youth and didn’t have the good sense to know when to back out of a fight.
“The kid’s been cheating!” Came the outraged response along with a pointed finger in Harry’s direction, he looked utterly outraged at the accusation yet again.
“I have not,” Harry said forcefully making a move to hit the other young man who had now accused him of cheating twice. He hadn’t even used his hidden wand to give him an unfair advantage over the stupid muggles. He had won all the games just on pure talent with a cue and he didn’t like the accusation that it was anything else. Harry didn’t like sore losers.
The bouncer took hold of Harry before he could throw the punch and began to manhandle the young teenager outside before anything could start in the riled up group. Clayton, who had wanted to lash out just as much at the now sniggering muggle knew that he couldn’t and that he had to remain with his pack brother at all costs or else risk inciting Fenrir’s legendary temper if he ever found out.
Sending a final glare at the annoyingly smug muggle who had tried to goad Harry into a fight, Clay followed the bouncer out of the club where Harry had been deposited rather forcefully on to the pavement.
After having made it perfectly clear that neither Harry nor Clayton were getting back inside for the night the bouncer resumed his post on the door, glaring at them. They could have easily used their magic to get back inside and finish what was started but now they were out of the testosterone fuelled environment they were able to compose themselves better and realise that it just wasn’t worth it.
Clayton offered his hand to help Harry up from the ground, an offer which was accepted gratefully, the two teenagers grinning at each other like lunatics at how the evening had transpired. Despite ending a little earlier than planned, it had not been a bad night.
“Fancy grabbing something to eat?” Harry asked with a smile as he withdrew a wad of cash from his jeans pocket, “On them,” He added and Clay couldn’t help but snigger at the amount of cash that Harry had won from the pathetic muggles. It made the fact that they hadn’t been able to beat them to a pulp a little easier to stomach.
“No wonder they were pissed,” Clayton said with a low and impressed whistle, surveying the money in Harry’s hand. “You must have at least a hundred, right there.”
“Hundred and twenty actually,” Harry boasted arrogantly as he replaced the money in his pocket out of sight, “so, you want food?”
“Sure,” Clayton said happily as the two of them headed in the direction that their noses told them they would find some late night burger joint that would still be open.
“James,” a voice called out somewhere behind them as they were a couple metres from the take-out shop, the smell of cooking meat making their bellies rumble in anticipation of finding food, both surprised by how hungry they were at three in the morning. They ignored the shout, paying it no mind, not even when it sounded again, this time louder and closer to them.
It wasn’t until a hand grabbed Harry’s arm did they realise that the man who had been calling out for James had meant Harry. He looked round trying to tear his arm away from the tall and rather thin man. Harry glared at him, staring into cold grey eyes, wanting to grab at the long black hair and rip it out at the roots for this invasion of personal space.
Clay too had reacted rather badly to his pack brother being grabbed so forcefully but it had momentarily confused them both when the stranger had yet again called him James as if questioning why Harry didn’t recognise him. The man seemed to be extremely confused by this. He was unkempt and dirty but insistent, his grip never loosening.
“Excuse me?” Harry bit out rudely as he gave another firm tug and this time he managed to remove his arm from the man’s strong grip. The stranger was looking at Harry as if he were a ghost, a great sadness echoing in the fathomless grey eyes, signalling a deep depression that almost made Harry feel sorry for him. Almost.
“Oh Merlin,” the man said in a deep gruff voice, “James, it’s you. I thought you were dead but …” The stranger was rambling now and looking at Harry as if he were some form of miracle, something truly amazing to behold.
Harry, finally free from the rough grip had taken a step back and instinctively Clayton had moved forward, protectively, coming between his pack brother and the stranger that had accosted him. Whoever this obviously crazed man was, he wasn’t welcome. Clay tensed, poised for an attack, fully prepared to remove his wand if necessary to defend Harry.
“Shove off, you weirdo,” Clay snarled dangerously at the stranger who looked at the other teen somewhat affronted by his hostility. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting it and was surprised at the unfriendly tone.
“Sirius,” another man said, suddenly appearing at the stranger’s side, placing a gentle hand upon his friends shoulder. Harry switched his gaze to this man instead. He looked to be roughly the same age as the first unwelcome stranger. He had greying light brown hair and they both looked a little shabby and in dire need of a bath and some clean clothes. Harry presumed that they were both probably just homeless and slightly deranged as well. “That isn’t James, it can’t be, just look at the eyes; those are Lily’s eyes.”
The man clearly called Sirius focused now on Harry’s eyes and it was allowed only because of the mention of the name Lily had made Harry stall. That had been his mother’s name; his Dad had told him all about her. How had these men known his mother’s name, and that he had been gifted her eyes through the wonders of genetics? And who the hell was James?
“Harry …” Sirius said in amazement before turning to his friend. “Remus … we found him, we finally found him!” The joy and excitement in his voice was clear, like a small child on Christmas morning. The man called Remus however did not seem to be as overjoyed and Clayton could smell why. He was a werewolf just like them and judging by the look on his face he knew what they were too.
At the declaration that they had found Harry Clayton panicked, he wasn’t entirely sure who these two men were but they knew Harry’s name, knew his mother’s name. Whoever they were they were dangerous and he and Harry had to leave.
Just as he processed everything that had been said the older men had begun to reach within their coat pockets. Clay had spotted the wands the other two men had just before they were drawn and reacted instinctually. Harry was too shocked and full of questions to realise what was going on as his best friend grabbed hold of him. Not caring who saw them go, or how many muggles they frightened with their sudden disappearing act, Clay apparated them both away.
Landing with a solid bump back in Clay’s bedroom, Harry staggered backwards, landing somewhat ungracefully on the bed, his mind racing. He didn’t even register when Clayton asked him if he was okay. The memory of what had just happened playing over in his mind and neither of the two teenagers thinking anything of the fact that they might have been followed. The older of the two knew what he would have to do though. He wouldn’t have a choice; he had to tell his Dad what had happened.
FGHP
“Dad,” Clay said hesitantly the next morning. The two of them were sat at their small circular dining table in the kitchen. Damon had made bacon and sausages for him having woken up in an extremely good mood. Clayton hadn’t slept much at all after Harry had turned into a falcon and flown home, instead pacing in his room, trying to think about how best to word what he was about to say.
“Yes, Clay,” Damon said glancing up from the Daily Prophet that was reporting on some more missing muggleborn witches and wizards. It was not boding well for the coming war that so many good witches and wizards were disappearing just because of their blood status.
“I have something I think I should tell you.” Clay knew his father was not a man to fly off the handle easily but he had his suspicions that this would be one of the rare occasions that it might just happen. Damon was the beta wolf of their pack, he had to balance out Fenrir’s well-known violent temper but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one of his own when the occasion rose for it.
Damon sighed, realising that this was something he ought to listen to more closely as he could tell from the tone of his son’s voice that it wasn’t something he was going to like. Folding the paper in half and placing it down he looked at his adopted son curiously. Just from Clay’s demeanour he knew the younger wolf to be uneasy as he shifted nervously in his chair. “Then perhaps you should tell me,” he said firmly.
“Harry and I snuck out last night,” Clayton began. He found it hard to look at his father, intent to stare at the table instead. He knew how disappointed Damon would be at him and he hated that look.
“Go on,” Damon said as he glared dangerously at his son, his entire body tense, dreading what was to come. Nothing surprised him when it came to the two teenagers now. However, if they had managed to get away with it without being caught then there had to be a fairly serious reason that Clay would come clean and risk punishment.
“These two guys started calling Harry, James,” he said carefully. “They seemed to know him; they knew that his mum was called Lily too.”
Damon considered this for a moment. “Did you catch their names?” he asked his son, who nodded in response.
“They called each other Sirius and Remus,” Clay told him. Fenrir had told Damon before sending him on the assignment to watch over and protect Harry that the boy was being raised by a man who was not his real father. That was all the Alpha wolf had known at the time and it was all he had cared to know, far more interested in his unique scent than who he had been when he was only a wizard.
The only Lily and James, Damon knew to be associated with a Harry were the Potter’s. However they had all died, Harry included, or so the stories went. Severus had moved around with Harry at least three times before settling here in Ingleton and Damon had never really understood why. Unless of course they were running from something. It was suddenly starting to make a lot of sense.
“Were you followed?” Damon asked somewhat stiffly. Whoever these two strangers were and whatever they knew wasn’t going to end well. He didn’t relish the idea of killing but he would do it to protect his pack and Harry was a part of that.
“There’s something else,” Clay said hesitantly, looking up at his father timidly as he prepared himself for the explosive reaction and prepared to take it like a man. “The one called Remus, I’m pretty sure that he was a werewolf.”
FGHP
Malfoy Manor, once a refuge for Narcissa to escape the fear and the terror that came hand in hand with her husband being in the inner circle of the darkest wizard known to mankind, had now become Lord Voldemort’s headquarters. There was no escaping him now; the charming and handsome nineteen year old Dark Lord seemed to take pleasure in residing with them. Narcissa now refused to let her precious son from her sight, not even now that she was seven months pregnant with her second child, another boy or so the healers told her.
With Tom prowling around her home, and her insane older sister simpering after him, she didn’t want either of them to get any ideas in regards to Draco, who was still just a boy at the tender age of fifteen. Their presence in the Malfoy family home made her increasingly nervous, which was doing nothing to help her relax in the final few months of her pregnancy.
The news that she was expecting another Malfoy child had come as a shock to both Lucius and Narcissa when they had found out. Lucius hadn’t cared much for the news, the only reason he had been happy about his wife’s first pregnancy with Draco was because he would finally have an heir to the family name. This second child was a waste but one he could do nothing about, Narcissa already loved the boy growing inside of her belly and couldn’t be persuaded to get rid of it.
Narcissa too was desperate to keep away from Voldemort. He took great pleasure invading the minds of those supposedly loyal to him and she could not risk him finding out that she was still in contact with Severus. She had managed to keep it a secret, even from her husband, for all these years but now that Tom was back she was constantly in fear that he would discover the truth.
The Dark Lord was very keen to locate the potions master who had not been seen since Tom’s downfall that fateful Halloween night in Godric’s Hollow. He would kill her if he ever found out that she had helped Severus to escape with the baby that Voldemort now wanted so desperately to kill. She took great pleasure in knowing that she was the cause of the Dark Lord’s irritation on that matter. Not that she knew where they were but the fact she had helped them all those years ago would be enough to damn her.
Tom knew that there had to be a connection to Snape’s disappearance and the vanishing act that the Potter boy had done. He was aware that he hadn’t killed the boy but he wanted to, he wanted to very much. He just had to find the boy, who would now be a young teenager. Finding him however was proving harder than he originally thought and that greatly frustrated him. A frustrated Lord Voldemort was not someone that you ever wanted to be around and he frequently took out these feelings of annoyance on his lesser followers.
However Harry Potter was not his only concern, not anymore. He had managed to take control of Durmstrang Institute with relative ease but he wanted Hogwarts and the meddlesome headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was managing to hold him off. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a point of pride for Riddle and he would take control of it no matter what it took and in that regard he had a plan.
Voldemort glanced over the fearful faces of his followers with disdain. He loathed each and every one of them, from the simpering pathetic Bellatrix, who wanted him and professed to love him, to the arrogantly aloof Lucius, who would do anything if it benefited him and his family. This evening however he had requested for a special guest to join them. A guest whom his gracious host was not best pleased about having at the Deatheater meeting.
Tom twiddled his wand between his fingers, caressing the smooth wooden shaft made of ash. It was a powerful thing with its dragon heartstring core, especially considering the little pureblood witch he had taken it from as he had drained the life from her. He remembered that fondly, how he had tricked her into reincarnating him. It had been so easy. Such a shame to have wasted the life of a pureblood but he was strong, powerful and youthful because of her. The wand worked well for him, he had so far not been disappointed.
“Draco, you will stay behind and talk to me,” Tom said in his soft, drawling voice that slithered around them all like a highly venomous snake. Draco almost stopped breathing at the sound of his name being spoken by Riddle. He had been asked here especially by invitation of the Dark Lord himself and Draco had been hoping that he could go unnoticed for the entire meeting; this had been a foolish hope however. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want anything to do with the soulless, evil monster or his pet basilisk that resided in the dungeons of the Manor.
Even as these thoughts crossed his mind the young blond teenager nodded his head in agreement. He watched the handsome nineteen year old carefully, trying to read him and predict his next move. Once you became accustomed to doing this you could better protect yourself from any cruciatus curses that might have been sent in your direction unexpectedly, just because Tom felt like it. Draco could see that the Dark Lord was an attractive man and he didn’t lack in charm either. The youngest Malfoy however was all too aware of how dark his soul was; it was an evil that tainted even Tom’s handsome face.
His poor Aunt Bellatrix however was seemingly not as aware of this. Draco could see her undying love for him in every look and action she made and he pitied her for it. Though he pitted himself more because she had the bedroom across the hall from his and he had heard Tom come to her every night since they had arrived at Malfoy Manor. Judging by the screams of anguish that echoed violently from her throat each night, Draco knew that Tom was neither a gentle nor a kind lover. The young blonde shuddered with the memories.
Tom Riddle had become vain in his new found youth. Every piece of his fragmented soul was connected and he could remember what it had felt like to be living like a parasite in another’s body. He had seen the hideous form he had taken in the Mirror of Erised, he had resorted to drinking the blood of unicorns to survive and all because of Harry Potter.
He would have his revenge on the boy sooner or later. He had his former body back, which was proof enough that his horcruxes worked and that he was now unstoppable. He relished in being young again, his youthful nineteen year old body so much more appealing than the creature he had become after his downfall. No wizard alive, not Albus Dumbledore and certainly not Harry Potter could stop him now.
Narcissa had looked to her fifteen year old son as his name had been spoken, terror in her eyes, but she said nothing as there was nothing she could do. She wouldn’t risk a ‘crucio’ being sent in her direction no matter how scared she was about what could happen to Draco. She wouldn’t be forced to risk the life of one son just to stop the other simply talking to Riddle. She placed a protective hand over her swollen belly feeling her eyes burn with the force of not shedding tears. How had it come to this?
She was dismissed along with the others and reluctantly trailed out of the dining room leaving Draco alone with Voldemort. Lucius hadn’t even looked over his shoulder to see if his son would be okay, he had just left, seemingly without a care in the world. Narcissa hated him for that. She hated him full stop. If he hadn’t forced himself on her seven months ago then she wouldn’t have her second child growing in her womb currently but she still despised him despite the small blessing that would be her second child, if she survived long enough to give birth to him.
Narcissa paced anxiously in the corridor outside of the dining room. Her back ached and her ankles were already starting to swell but she was too nervous to sit down, she needed to know why the Dark Lord had summoned her boy in to see him privately. With the silencing charms and anti-eavesdropping spells cast around the room Tom could have been torturing him and she wouldn’t have known; something that made a lump lodge in her throat as she struggled to breathe, rubbing her stomach calmingly as her son squirmed within.
She had nearly worked herself up into having a full blown panic attack when the door finally opened and Draco stepped out much to Narcissa’s relief. She threw her arms around him, holding her to him as best she could with her protruding stomach wedged between them. Draco was unsurprised by the sudden assault and returned the embrace.
“It’s okay, Mum,” he said to her soothingly though really he was terrified. What had he just agreed to do? He tugged nervously at his sleeve of his left arm that covered his burning skin that had just been freshly branded with the dark mark. He hadn’t wanted this, he hadn’t wanted to be anything like his unemotional and detached father who cared so little for his mother. “Let’s find you somewhere to sit and we can talk.”
Draco was aware that they could not have this conversation here and Narcissa silently nodded, all too aware of the dangers herself and allowing her son to lead her away. This house was not safe anymore, there were no secrets kept within these walls. They had to be careful what was said because one way or another Tom would find out.
Finding a quiet spot in what would be baby Abraxus’ nursery when he was born, the same room that had been Draco’s nursery when he was a baby, the young blond sat his pregnant mother down and ensured that she was comfortable. Lucius would never have taken so much care or effort to see that she was okay but Draco was nothing like his father and had no desire to be either. He sat himself on the floor at her feet, leaning his head against her leg, allowing his sadness to wash over both of them.
“Talk to me, my little dragon,” she said as her fingers found his hair and began to run through it, taking the time to treasure how soft it felt. It was early August, she had but a month until he was back at school for his fifth year. In one instant she was glad that he would no longer be in Malfoy Manor, he would be away from Voldemort and the Deatheaters but also away from her protective eye as well.
“He’s given me a mission,” Draco said, his voice soft but trembling. Narcissa’s breath hitched when she heard his words, suddenly fearful for the fate of her eldest son. She had never wanted her children to be embroiled in anything to do with that man. Draco wouldn’t tell his mother about the brand, she would be concerned enough without that playing on her mind as well. He didn’t want to add any unnecessary stress on her while she was so heavily pregnant.
“What has he asked of you?” Narcissa queried, one hand still running through the soft golden strands of her son’s hair while she tenderly stroked her belly. Everything she cared about was in this room with her now; she just wished that it would stay that way and that she could protect her two boys.
“He has asked me to kill Dumbledore,” Draco said to her. It took a moment for the weight of these words to sink in and a tear to escape from the corner of her eye and trickle down her cheek. The usual calm façade that she portrayed shattered by this one single tear drop of emotion.
Neither of them needed to say anything more. This was a test of loyalty. Lucius may have been one of the most lethal and trusted Deatheaters but Draco would not earn that position automatically just because his father had it. Voldemort would know all too well that it was an impossible task that he had bestowed upon the fifteen year old teenager. Narcissa knew that she would have to try to find a way out for herself and both of her sons, no matter what the cost was to her.
Draco too understood the enormity of the task he had been asked to perform. Albus Dumbledore may have fallen from the pedestal that he had been placed upon by many since the death of Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley but he was still a great and powerful wizard. If he wasn’t then Hogwarts would already be in the hands of Tom Riddle and his Deatheaters. That was what it was about, the Dark Lord cared very little about the headmaster but he desired that school, almost as much as he wanted Harry Potter dead.
“Come with me my darling,” Narcissa said with a sigh, realising what she would have to do. When Tom Riddle had returned three years previously both she and Severus had known that they would be in grave danger for what they had done after Voldemort had fallen that Halloween night back in 1981. Each had written a letter to their boys just in case the worst were to happen. They had agreed that they would be a safety net for each other’s children.
Looking a little confused Draco got to his feet before helping his pregnant mother up from her chair. She took a moment to steady herself as she stood as she had been getting dizzy spells recently whenever she got up too quickly. Draco kept a firm grasp on her to ensure that she didn’t fall over, something Narcissa appreciated greatly.
She couldn’t comprehend how such a sweet, compassionate child could have been born from such a belligerent, callous bully of a man such as Lucius. She had always hated her parents for forcing her into the marriage. It had given her everything that her parents had ever wanted for her, money, status and power. She had cared very little for it all and envied her sister, Andromeda for being able to marry for love even though she had been disowned because of it.
Lucius had been a violent bully, taking his anger out on her and occasionally their young son. Whenever she had been able to she had come between his fists and the small child who held her heart. Draco had been the only reason that she had remained, despite his temper Lucius could provide everything Draco needed and more. If she had left they would have had nothing, no home, no money and she refused to have her son living in poverty.
“Where are we going?” Draco asked curiously as he allowed his mother to lead the way through the cavernous corridors of the large manor house. He kept a supporting arm out, which she leant on. Walking was becoming increasingly more difficult as her baby bump increased in size but no one other than her eldest boy seemed to care anything for her or how she was feeling.
“You will see darling,” she said softly, impressing on him with her tone that she could say no more on the matter. The two of them walked the rest of the way in silence. Draco was confused as they came upon his room and after checking around them, went inside. Withdrawing her wand she cast several privacy and silencing charms on the room, not wanting to risk anyone interrupting or over hearing them. She knew if they were caught then they would both be killed with no thought to the unborn child in her belly.
“Mum …” Draco said, watching with confusion as she moved to his bed, wand still drawn. With a muttered incantation Narcissa made an ivory envelope appear upon his pillow, his name scrawled elegantly upon it. “What is this?” he asked; his voice barely above a whisper.
“I wrote this for you three years ago, when …” She trailed off and Draco nodded to show that he understood what she meant. She had written this letter to him when Tom Riddle had come back. “It was in case anything was to happen to me, the letter would appear to you,” she continued, “There were things I wanted you to know. Once you have read it the letter will disappear as if it never existed. So you must read it carefully.”
Draco nodded to show that he had taken in her words. She passed him the envelope, gave him a tender kiss to the temple and told him to read it, before taking her leave. He would have questions but they wouldn’t have time for those now. The two of them were bound to be missed sooner rather than later. Narcissa would stall them to allow Draco the time he needed to read the letter she had written. Leaving her eldest son alone in his room she headed downstairs.
The young blonde turned the envelope over in his hands, wondering why the need for so much secrecy, what had his mother done that required her to conceal it with so much care? He almost didn’t want to know, however with the weight of the mission that Voldemort had personally bestowed, weighing down on him, he knew that he needed to read this. His mother had wanted him to know the contents and he wouldn’t go against that.
With shaking fingers he opened the envelope, pulling the parchment within out and unfolding it. His eyes swept over his mother’s elegant scrawl, reading each word carefully ensuring that he understood her words and any meanings behind them because he would only have this one chance to read it before it disappeared forever to protect the both of them.
Dearest Draco
When you were no more than a baby your Godfather came to me with a child in his arms. It was Halloween and the Dark Lord had just fallen. He asked me to help him and I did because he was a dear friend to me and I hoped that one day that small boy in Severus’ arms would be able to save us all from the Dark Lord. Now that he has returned I am scared that my actions will be discovered and I cannot afford to have you oblivious to what I did all those years ago because by doing what I did, I ensured that there will be someone to rid the world of this evil man. If anything should happen to me my darling boy then you must do whatever it takes to find Severus Snape. You will be able to trust him. The child he took was Harry Potter, the true boy-who-lived. Find them and remind Severus of what I did for him and he will not turn you away. Keep yourself safe my precious boy and know that I will always love you no matter what.
Your loving mother.
The name Severus Snape had not been uttered in their household since he had vanished when Draco was a baby. To find out now that his mother had had something to do with that disappearance raised countless questions. Harry Potter was supposed to have died in the attack on his home that had also claimed the lives of his parents. To learn that the child was alive and with his Godfather only confused him more. However his mother had been right about one thing, with the Potter boy alive there was hope that one day he might be able to rid the world of Tom Riddle once and for all.
FGHP
Sirius and Remus were going out of their minds, though it was affecting Sirius more seriously than Remus. They had seen Harry, spoken to him even but then they had lost him. However the only hope they had had was that they were able to track the boys’ apparition with a unique piece of magic that Dumbledore had taught them. The magic however wasn’t exactly accurate and all it had done was taken them to the village where the two boys had apparated to.
Of course, true to his character, Sirius had wanted to start knocking on doors in an attempt to find and, in his mind, rescue Harry. Remus on the other hand had been a lot more level headed on the matter and talked Sirius into seeing the benefits of patience. If this was where Harry and his friend lived then it wouldn’t be long until they resurfaced. They didn’t need to draw unwanted attention to themselves.
The end of July turned into the eighteenth of August before they got any leads at all. The two of them had been close to giving up on being patient and trying Sirius’ more head on approach by knocking on doors until they found him. Remus found that his lover’s behaviour was pushing him to the limit. He could understand how anxious he was to get Harry back but these things took time and not everything always went according to plan.
The only reason they hadn’t given up, figuring that they had stumbled upon the wrong village and had been tricked, was because they had seen Harry’s little friend with an older gentleman who seemed to be his father. It had given them the confidence in their tracking skills, to stick it out and wait to see if Harry showed his face too. Most of the watching and waiting had been left to Remus while Sirius wandered off, prowling through the village with annoyance and impatience. He had solemnly promised not to knock on any doors but the werewolf was sure that his lover was, at the very least, peering into windows.
However, when their patience and determination finally paid off it wasn’t Harry that they saw first but someone completely unexpected. Someone else that had been missing since Voldemort had first fallen.
“Merlin’s balls, is that …?” Sirius said his mouth agape in shock.
“Snape,” Remus growled in anger, his eyes narrowing. Both men spying their old school rival at the same time. His long, greasy black hair and hooked nose unmistakable. They were hidden from sight, concealed where they could watch the goings on around them unnoticed.
“I’ll kill him,” Sirius snarled, getting over his shock fairly quickly. “That greasy, bat like, hook nosed, dungeon creeping, slimy, Slytherin bastard,” Sirius snarled in one breath, his fists clenched, his nails cutting into the palms of his hands and drawing blood. The resentment he felt at seeing Snape again after so many years bubbling just beneath the surface. “I can’t believe Snivellus took OUR Harry!”
“Calm down, we’ll get him back,” Remus said, trying to remain calm but he too was fuming with this new found knowledge. As the two men continued to watch from their hiding place, a young raven haired teenager, who they both recognized as Harry, came running out of the house that Severus had been approaching. It took them both by surprise again just how much he looked like James.
“Dad!” Harry exclaimed happily, practically skipping down the garden path to greet his father, beaming at the older man as he started to ask Snape something. The potions master was giving Harry a soft smile at whatever was being said that neither Remus nor Sirius could make out as they were just a little too far away from them.
That one word from Harry however was enough for Sirius to blow a gasket. If Remus hadn’t seen this coming and thrown James’ old invisibility cloak over the both of them then they would have been seen. As it was the werewolf had to clamp his hand over his lover’s mouth so that his shout wouldn’t be heard. If they had any chance of rescuing Harry then they needed the element of surprise.
“We have to tell Dumbledore,” Remus said, glaring at Sirius pointedly, his hand still over his lover’s mouth. “We know where they are now and that we can get him back but we can’t do it alone. Send your patronus to Albus so that he can send reinforcements. Can you keep calm enough to do that?” When Sirius wasn’t exactly forthcoming with an agreement, Remus added, “If you can’t keep a lid on your temper then I’ll send you back to Hogwarts. I love you but we can’t mess this up!” Remus threatened and reluctantly his lover nodded.
Remus knew how dangerous it was for the two of them to be here. He hadn’t divulged the fact that Harry was now a Werewolf, nor that his friend had been one as well. The knowledge had shocked him, unsure of how such a thing could have happened but sure that somehow it was Snape’s fault. He could however be sympathetic with the boy and out of empathy for his situation he hadn’t given away the secret and he wouldn’t.
FGHP
Fenrir disliked the rare occasions that he ventured into human towns away from his pack and its territory, but they desperately needed supplies; and if he had had to stay in the pack’s territory much longer, listening to Micha winding Jenson up, one of them was likely to find his teeth at their throat.
The two of them were constantly bickering, mocking and teasing one another, both of them as bad as the other. Usually this errand would have been run by anyone else but today he had needed to get out for a while. The town of Brucknell was the closest to their territory and for them it was an easy run; though Fenrir had long been considering some form of muggle vehicle as he despised apparating but the costs and other considerations had so far made it impractical.
“What do we need first?” Micha asked enthusiastically; it wasn’t often that he got to go anywhere and he had been more than a little surprised when Fenrir had ordered him to get ready and come with him. He had, of course, jumped at the chance to run even this simple errand with the Alpha; it showed that Fenrir trusted him enough to be his backup should anything go wrong.
Fenrir growled deep in his throat, a warning to the young werewolf not to test him. He was already second guessing his decision to bring the most excitable wolf from his pack into town with him, but he hadn’t trusted Jenson and Micha not to get violent when the latter inevitably took the joking and teasing too far. It always happened and he was always there to pull them apart, he didn’t want to risk leaving them unsupervised and it made him yearn to have his second living back with the pack as it should be, so that such tasks could be left to Damon. It would only be another year until Harry turned sixteen and then Damon and Clayton could return with him.
But for now, his only option was to separate his two trouble makers to keep the peace. He never wanted to come home to bloodshed ever again; the memories of the horror of finding his previous pack slaughtered still brought bile to his throat and made him yearn for the revenge he felt he had never had.
Wizards had a unique skill to breed horror in his opinion, especially when it came to their kind. Witches and wizards comforted themselves by saying that werewolves were brutal animals and they had to come up with something to defend themselves against them. Regular curses and jinxes had very little effect on werewolves so they had invented more vicious spells, some that could literally cut deep those with Lycanthropy and infect them with fragments of silver, a substance lethal on its own to a Werewolf, given the right dosage.
“My Alpha?” Micha asked, doing his best to sound a little calmer and damned respective as he looked up at the older werewolf imploringly. He was ready to charge off and explore the moment Fenrir said it was alright to do so. Micha had been part of a pack his entire life and when he had been given the opportunity to venture out he had never strayed from the wizarding world. The muggle world was new and interesting to him. Micha’s curiosity was barely being contained and even then he was only managing it due to the respect he had for the far more senior pack member.
Fenrir shook off the mental demons that haunted his subconscious, discarding the horrific thoughts that they brought back with a practised ease. He had a new pack, one to be proud of despite the troublemakers in it, whom he was starting to get rather fond of regardless of their behaviour. His new pack was one that deserved his attention now; dwelling on the past couldn’t help his lost pack nor could it help the unborn pups that had been brutally slain while still in the womb, he had to focus on the present and the future, which would, within a year, hopefully involve him having a new mate in Harry.
He returned his focus to his young charge who was almost hopping from foot to foot, anxious to get going. Fenrir was always on edge about the fact that Micha never seemed to stop moving. “Pharmacy, we need bandages and medicines,” he said bluntly with a slight grunt and nod of his head in the direction they needed to go in.
The small high street was little more than a handful of shops and was fairly quiet, but there were occasional muggles wandering in and out of the doors, setting off little bells that jingled, grating on his nerves. He wasn’t in the best of moods as it was. He by-passed several convenience stores and cafés before reaching the building he wanted.
A slightly stuffy looking woman practically jumped out of his way, giving a small shriek of fright as Fenrir barged into the little store and he heard Micha’s amused chuckle behind him as the young man followed him inside.
Fright at the sight of him was not a reaction that fazed Fenrir anymore; he was far too used to it to be bothered. Secretly it pleased him that muggles and even most magical folk feared him on sight, it felt right that it be this way and it gave him immense satisfaction. The fact that he wore heavy work boots, jeans and no t-shirt to speak off, the only thing covering his upper body; a well-worn leather jacket only added to his overbearing presence he emitted every time he entered a room.
The two werewolves fairly quickly found what they needed with very little browsing. Their list of required items mostly included bandages, but he also selected a few bottles of antiseptic he had seen Callie use before and painkillers as well. The muggle stuff was far easier to store and lasted longer than bottled potions. Fenrir had very little time for potions which required patience, something he knew he lacked. The closest all wizarding village to them where they would be able to buy potion supplies was Hogsmead, somewhere he couldn’t go as he was a wanted man in the wizarding world.
“Is there … umm, anything else I can help you with, S...s...sir?” the nervous looking sales girl asked, her voice shaking. The counter stood as a barrier between them but even so she still looked as if she were about to drop to the ground in a faint at any given moment.
Fenrir gave her a gruesome grin, relishing in the fear that seeped from her pores intoxicatingly. He bore his sharp yellowed teeth in a fierce smile that made the young girl quiver in terror. Her hands physically shaking as she began to scan the items he had unceremoniously dumped upon the counter. Micha had left his side and begun wandering around the store, peering at the various muggle things the pharmacy had in stock, they were strange and unknown to the werewolf who had never set foot in the muggle world before now.
“This is all, little girl,” the Alpha told her, nodding at the small mountain of sterile rolls of fabrics, gauzes and other first aid supplies in front of her as she started to bag them up. He delighted in the fact that her hands refused to steady, it was good to know that he still incited terror wherever he went.
He dug out a handful of paper notes from his pocket and thumped it onto the counter with more force than was really necessary. A glass full of loose change on the counter trembled under the force of the motion and the werewolf’s grin widened when the shop assistant jumped in surprise and alarm, speeding up her scanning and bagging, eager to get the large and overbearing man out of the store.
Fenrir earned his way in the world, a fact that he was proud of; he could take care of his pack and had little interest in hand outs; he was their Alpha and always strove to be worthy of the role. They rarely had any need of money, either muggle or wizarding, and survived on the occasional odd jobs they could get. But if they found they needed something and couldn’t afford it, they would steal it. He would never let his pack go without what was needed.
Whatever it was the girl was doing with her bleeping machine and the things they were buying was taking too long with her trembling hands which were starting to agitate the Alpha wolf. The small amount of pleasure he had derived from it was dwindling fast. Fenrir found his attention wandering as he turned to check on where Micha had gone. He snorted in amusement at the sight of the younger werewolf inspecting a bottle of liquid lube, holding it no more than an inch from his eyes, a box of condoms in his other hand. It had been worth bringing Micha with him this afternoon just to see that.
Luckily it didn’t take much longer before they were handed a bag with their purchases and the girl placed a selection of coins into Fenrir’s palm. He let his large hand brush against hers as she pulled away as quickly as possible, delighting in the little panicked squeak she let out. Muggles really were so amusing and he did so enjoy toying with them.
“Micha!” Fenrir barked out as he headed for the door; the bag of medical supplies in his hand and knowing the other would obey and follow without him saying anything else.
Sure enough he had gotten no more than a few feet down the road before the younger werewolf appeared at his side, jogging to keep up with the Alpha’s pace. At that point however he was distracted by the scent of another werewolf; it was not one he knew and yet... The scent was familiar, familial even. The werewolf infection in the unknown person was like that of those he had infected himself, but different too.
Fenrir slowed his pace as he glanced around the street, scanning over every person that he could see until his eyes fell upon an average looking young man walking along the pavement on the other side of the road. He was slender given the fact he was a werewolf, with short, curly, chestnut coloured hair. He appeared to be hunched over, trying to remain unnoticed, determined to just get to wherever it was he was going.
“My Alpha?” Micha questioned when Fenrir actually stopped walking to watch the stranger that was heading in the direction they had just come from at quite a pace.
“Shut up,” Fenrir snapped, not turning to look at his fellow pack member, instead keeping his gaze focused on the wolf he had scented.
“Who is...?” Micha started to question, but the tight grip of the larger werewolf’s hand on the back of his neck silenced him apart from the small whimper of pain that he couldn’t hold back. The action of the Alpha had been so quick that Micha had had no time to resist it, not that he would have, this was his punishment for not doing what the Alpha had said instantly.
“Come,” the Alpha werewolf instructed, but it wasn’t like Micha really had a choice in this as he was practically dragged across the road by his neck.
The unknown man had just gone past the point they were at, and so remained oblivious to the two werewolves who were hastily crossing the road and gaining on him. He looked morose and his head was tilted down so that he was watching his feet as he walked. Fenrir and a very confused Micha set a pace that kept them just a few feet behind him.
Fenrir inhaled deeply, concentrating on the scents that reached him, focusing on the one coming from the werewolf just in front; but even then it took him several minutes to figure out what had happened. He was more than a little surprised when he realised that whoever it was who had turned this young man, it had to have been a werewolf who Fenrir had bitten. That made the Alpha wolf this stranger’s grandsire so to speak and that made the stranger family to him, one of their pack, whether he liked it or not.
The newly found werewolf looked over his shoulder; his dull blue eyes narrowed on the odd pair who seemed to be following him. Frowning with confusion he turned back to watch where he was going, but a growl had him stopping and turning around once again.
The stranger looked up without fear into the face of the scruffy but powerful looking Alpha wolf, seemingly unperturbed about his dominance. Fenrir had his teeth bared slightly in a grimace at the way the other wolf was acting. Micha on the other hand was wearing a goofy smile as he took in the stranger who just looked back at him as if he were an escaped convict.
“Can I help you?” The stranger asked keeping his tone strong and his gaze steady as he attempted to stare down Fenrir Greyback, not a task to be taken lightly.
Micha’s face broke out into a full smile at the question. The stranger had a geeky cuteness and innocence about him that was making Micha think of all sorts of highly inappropriate things he would like the stranger to ‘help’ him with, preferably starting with the tightness that was growing in his trousers.
“You are coming with us now,” Fenrir stated, and the stranger’s eyes widened in surprise and no small amount of alarm at what the Alpha wolf had just said.
“I think not,” the stranger said, turning on his heels and going on his way a little faster than before. Fenrir had not expected resistance at all; he wasn’t accustomed to having lower ranking wolves not obey him.
Honestly Micha was a little impressed at the guts the man showed just in refusing the Alpha so defiantly and then not taken off at a run afterwards. If Fenrir had barked such a demand at him Micha knew that he would have run for cover without a second of hesitation, Fenrir was a scary bloke. Micha had no idea what his Alpha had scented on the other werewolf but it had apparently been decided that he would be joining them. If Fenrir Greyback wanted something then it was usually inadvisable to deny him.
Sure enough the Alpha wolf was off after him, Micha jogging quickly to catch up to them, belatedly realising that Fenrir had released him when the strange wolf they were now chasing after had stopped to confront them.
“You’re a werewolf; turned by one I sired,” Fenrir growled out as he made a grab for the non-pack wolf, stopping the geeky brunet from quickening his pace and getting away from them.
“Look!” the stranger said, turning to face them full on with far more courage than either Fenrir or Micha had expected, “I have NO idea who you are, or what you THINK I am, but leave me the hell alone,” he said snappishly; wrenching his wrist away from a startled Fenrir and turning and hurrying off. This time apparently the urge to run was too strong, and they watched as he hurried around the corner with a panicked glance over his shoulder to ensure that he was no longer being followed.
Fenrir growled in angered annoyance. Every fibre of his being was telling him to chase after him, to wrap his hands around the little brat’s neck and pin him against the nearest surface until he damn well learned some respect and submitted to him. However the Alpha was painfully aware that they were still in the middle of a muggle village and his pack was vulnerable every moment that it went without his presence. He would have to return another time and hunt the ballsy wolf down and try again another day. He would find the young man again, and he would be part of their pack; he would learn his place.
FGHP
Kings Cross was the same as it ever was on every September first. This would be Draco Lucius Malfoy’s fifth year at Hogwarts and it was perhaps the first time that he hadn’t been dying to get out of his family home and away from his domineering, demanding father who had high aspirations for his eldest son.
Lucius Malfoy however had not deemed Draco worthy enough of his time today and had not accompanied him to platform 9 ¾. His darling mother who always had time for him despite the fact that she was heavily pregnant with her second child, had accompanied him regardless of her eldest son’s insistence that he didn’t need to be chauffeured to the train station.
Narcissa Malfoy was six weeks away from her due date in mid-October but this fact had not perturbed her at all and if Lucius had been at all concerned about his wife and second son then he hadn’t voiced it and had simply waved them off without a word. Secretly she was glad to have some time outside of the manor with her eldest boy whom she would miss greatly.
The two of them stood on platform 9 ¾ looking at one another as if it were the end of the world. Draco was fearful of leaving his mother and unborn brother alone at Malfoy Manor with a host of lunatics who cared nothing for her or the child she carried. However he had to go back to school, it would only rouse suspicions if he didn’t; after all Voldemort had given him a job to do. He had been given the mission of murdering Albus Dumbledore to prove his loyalty to the dark wizard.
In snippets of conversation and during many lengthy walks around the grounds of their country manor home Narcissa and Draco had formulated a plan. The letter that she had given to her child had opened them up to the possibility that it might be time to get out and seek help before it was too late. This was why Narcissa had purchased a single vanishing cabinet. She’d managed to get it cheap as it was meant to be one of a pair, however its brother had not been seen in decades.
She had put it in the nursery, claiming it to be simply a cabinet to her husband, who had no real interest in furniture or in fact anything his wife thought to be pretty. He never set foot in the nursery anyway so it didn’t bother him in the slightest, which had been exactly what she had been counting on. The reason she had purchased it when the shop owner had warned her that it was simply a piece of furniture now and that it’s brother was missing, presumably destroyed, was because she knew where to find the missing one.
As a young girl at Hogwarts she had come across a special room, somewhere to hide what you didn’t want to be found. She had explained all of this to Draco and assured him that he would find the brother of the cabinet in the nursery there, all Draco had to do was fix it and they would have a connection to each other, a safety net. Once this was established then they would be able to communicate easily and Narcissa would always have an escape plan if need be, one close to her second child, whom she wouldn’t leave behind no matter what it cost her.
“I wish you could come with me,” Draco said to his mother as they said their final goodbyes on the platform. “I hate the thought of you in that place.”
“Darling dragon,” she said as she placed a loving hand upon her son’s cheek, the other resting on her bump, “Don’t worry about me.”
“But I do worry, Mum,” Draco returned as he hugged her, his arms around her waist, an action made painfully difficult by her protruding stomach. He withdrew when he felt something against his stomach, looking at his mother in confusion. “Was that …”
She smiled at him and nodded, “It’s your little brother telling you it’s time to go or you’ll miss your train,” she returned before placing a gentle kiss upon his cheek.
He was reluctant to leave her but he knew he had no choice. School this year would be loathsome enough without the constant worrying about his mother and brother. He could already feel the hateful glares, from the Gryffindor’s, on his back. He could never understand why it was that they blamed him for Ginevra Weasley’s untimely demise. Ronald Weasley had once shouted something unintelligible about his father and a diary but it hadn’t made any sense to Draco. He was also somehow to blame for Longbottom’s death too which he couldn’t comprehend. They hated him and they took great pleasure in showing it. Not that they would do anything with their parents watching but it meant that this school year was going to be filled with just as many corridor duels as the previous four.
Draco had no interest in fighting them, not like Pansy and Blaise seemed to. Those two would be so jealous if they knew he had received the dark mark over the summer. They worshipped the Dark Lord; they craved nothing more than to be a loyal follower. He wouldn’t tell them about the branding, he hadn’t even told his mother.
Daphne was a safer bet; she was a lot less inclined to bicker with her fellow students and went with the flow of school life to make things easier on herself. Draco would frequently see her nodding in agreement to whatever Pansy was saying without really listening. He liked her.
Boarding the Hogwarts express he found the usual compartment they occupied to be filled with familiar faces. He wouldn’t go so far as to call them friendly. Blaise and Pansy were talking animatedly about how amazing their summers had been, as Draco entered and took a seat across from Daphne who, as usual, had her nose in a book. She did however look up and give him a faint smile, which Draco returned.
“So…” Pansy said, smiling at Draco with simpering wetness as she battered her eyelashes at him in a way she thought was seductive but Draco actually just found rather disturbing from the pug faced girl. “How was your summer?”
“No different than any other,” Draco responded blandly, turning his head to look out the window where his mother stood, glowing in her pregnancy. His fellow Slytherin’s turned to look to see what he was staring at.
“Your father must be thrilled with a second pureblood child on the way,” Blaise said as he eyed the large swell of Narcissa’s pregnant belly.
“He’s ecstatic,” Draco replied sourly as he reached into his bag, pulling out one of his school text books and settling himself down to read it as the train pulled away. He was willing to do anything to not to have to talk to the other Slytherin’s in the compartment who were supposed to be his friends.
FGHP
Severus had been reminiscing about Hogwarts as he climbed the stairs wearily to bed. Harry had been in bed and asleep for an hour already but he had had a large potions order to finish and ship before he could even consider turning in for the night. It was the evening of the first of September and he couldn’t help but think of all the students that would have flocked back to the infamous school for a new school year today.
Thinking of the school made him feel strange. He didn’t miss it, in fact he was glad to be away from the place. It held more negative memories than good ones. He had been relentlessly tormented by James, Sirius and the rest of their pathetic group of friends. It was the memories of Lily there that he clung to. However it was this day that always made him wonder if he had done the right thing in denying Harry the opportunity to go to school with other witches and wizards.
He was exhausted after the relentless work hours he had had to put in this week; his mail order potion business had kept him extremely busy as of late. Not to mention tutoring Harry with his school subjects. Harry didn’t really need much tutoring anymore. His son was an intelligent young man, there was no denying that. By being taught at home he had already excelled to the point where he could have taken his N.E.W.T’s and passed them with ease two whole years before he had to take them. By the end of the year however Harry would have to sit his O.W.L’s.
Severus was thankful that the tests could all be done under his supervision at home due to anti-cheating spells applied to each test sheet by the Ministry. He had no doubt that his son would do well and pass them all with an Outstanding in each subject. Harry was certainly a powerful wizard; there was no doubt about that. He was a werewolf, but also an animagus, which was almost unheard of. He could speak parseltongue, produce a fully formed patronus and he could apparate. It astounded Severus, what a powerful wizard Harry was, to the point that it concerned him.
However all Severus could think of right now was a hot shower and his nice warm bed, which he hadn’t seen much of recently. He would finally be able to get a good seven hours sleep before getting up and he had promised himself that he and Harry would have a day together where they could just be father and son. They had a great relationship but work had kept him occupied as of late and they needed to have some fun together. They both deserved a day off.
Harry had been dying to go participate in the under sixteen’s pool tournament in the next town over and Severus hadn’t been sure that it had been wise for them to go or that he would have the time to take him. However he fully intended on taking him regardless as it had broken his heart a little to see the disappointment on his son’s face when he had said that he didn’t think it would be possible. Severus had even bought Harry a brand new cue to play with as well as a surprise. He was hoping that the look on his son’s face at breakfast the next morning would be more than worth the risk they would be taking by going. Harry, of course, had no clue about his father’s intentions.
Severus had just finished his shower and pulled on his drawstring pyjama bottoms when a shrill shriek pierced the night air and made his heart stop in fear. The wards surrounding their home were signalling an intruder had broken through them.
Panicking he ran to his son’s room, he wasn’t about to take the chance of not getting Harry out of the house even if it did turn out to be a false alarm. They had gone over this routine several times a year ever since Harry had turned eleven and had been able to turn into an animagus. Harry had thought his dad was paranoid and a little delusional with all of his safety precautions but he hadn’t argued about it, he had just gone over it without complaint and as a result Harry knew exactly what to do.
“Harry,” Severus said loudly as he dashed into his son’s bedroom, turning the light on as he went. “You need to wake up right now, Harry!” He grabbed his son by the shoulders and shook him gently until bright, confused emerald eyes looked up at him, still misty from sleep.
“Dad?” Harry grumbled with confusion, rubbing his eyes, “What’s going on?”
“There isn’t time, you need to run,” he said pulling back the duvet, glad to see that his son had not been sleeping naked. Just like his father he was just wearing pyjama bottoms and nothing else. “Someone is coming!”
This grabbed at Harry’s attention immediately and he sat up in bed, suddenly more alert, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest as the realisation of those words sank in. “Dad …”
“Take this,” Severus said handing Harry an envelope with his name on it. “You know what to do,” the older man said as they both heard the door downstairs explode off its hinges with a resounding crash. As Snape looked deeply into his son’s eyes that echoed Lily’s so perfectly he could see fear there and it pained him to know that there was nothing he could do about it. “No matter what you hear, or what you are told know that I love you and that you will always be my son. No one and nothing can change that. I love you.”
“Dad, what are you saying?” Harry asked, hearing his words as if they were a goodbye, but there was no time. Whoever had broken in to their home was closing in on them. They had only seconds left before they were discovered.
“Go, now!” Severus barked more harshly than he would have liked as he ran for the door, wand drawn, ready to defend his son and give him the chance to escape. Harry shoved the envelope in his pocket, opened his bedroom window, grabbed his wand and transformed into his animagus form, stretching out his wings, before taking flight into the darkness of the night taking the familiar route to the Danes’ home.
Still shirtless and barefoot, his hair damp from the shower, Severus charged into the hallway, brandishing his wand, gratified that Harry would have the chance to escape and that he wouldn’t be caught. His son would not fall into the hands of the Order, Deatheaters, Voldemort or Albus Dumbledore tonight, though he was aware that it would cost him his freedom and probably his life too. Whatever he did now would only give his son more of a chance to escape from whoever had broken into their home.
When Severus had first taken Harry from his crib in Godric's Hollow it had been about keeping a part of Lily to himself but over the years he had grown to love Harry as if he truly was his son. It wasn’t about having a small part of Lily anymore, it was about protecting a boy whom he had raised and loved like a son. He was a boy that had grown into a powerful and happy young man. Severus, as any real father would be prepared to do, would die to protect his child; just the same as James had done for Harry all those years ago.
FGHP
It was a flight that Harry had flown several times previously, in his animagus form, though his father was perhaps not aware of exactly how many times he had flown to the Danes’ home on the other side of the village as a falcon.
Tonight however his mind was frantic and worried; if birds could cry then he would have been at the goodbye his dad had shared with him. He flew on autopilot, not taking anything in as he travelled further away from his home and his Dad. It was only because of the promises he had made to his father countless times over the years that stopped him from turning around and going back to help him.
Every time they had gone over what Harry should do in case of an emergency such as this Severus had made his son promise that no matter what he wouldn’t go back for any reason. He was instead to make sure he got as far away as possible and to ensure that he was safe from harm. The letter would help him find his way.
Harry didn’t want to think too hard about what was happening back at his home or even what fate had met his father. He couldn’t think about it, he just couldn’t. Every time he did he pictured his dad alone, dying and the pain wrenched through him painfully. He should have told his dad that he loved him but he had been too panicked, too scared and now he might never say it to him again.
Clay always left his bedroom window ajar a small way just for Harry and he took advantage of that tonight, swooping gracefully inside. His best friend was asleep and snoring lightly. His duvet hanging haphazardly over him, halfway to being on the floor and only just covering his modesty as it didn’t appear that he wore anything when he went to bed.
Changing back into his human form Harry took a moment to regain himself; refusing to let himself cry. Clayton, just like his father, was a heavy sleepier and wouldn’t be woken easily but even so Harry didn’t want to just break down and risk waking him. He didn’t want to even attempt to rouse his friend, it was late and he needed time to think while he was alone and he needed time to read that letter without interruption too.
Creeping on his tip toes Harry headed downstairs, not even daring to switch on the lights in case whoever had attacked his home came here as well, instead, using his wand to cast a small amount of light so that he could see where he was going, glad that he knew the house as well as he knew his own. He thought that if the lights were off then it would look as if everyone was sleeping. Harry collapsed on to the familiarly worn leather sofa, curling into a ball, making himself as small as possible; his wand clutched in his trembling hands. He might have been fifteen but he still wished he had his favourite teddy with him to cuddle but he had left Baloo bear on his bed.
On the verge of tears Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew the envelope his dad had given him. He was shaking badly as he broke the seal, unsure if he wanted to read the contents after what his father had said to him, those words echoing in his mind. No matter what you hear, or what you are told know that I love you and that you will always be my son. No one and nothing can change that. I love you. Harry didn’t understand what that meant and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. He took the letter in his hands and began to scan over the contents, reading it with care.
My son,
If you are reading this then know that I am sorry. I should have explained this to you when I had the chance; I hope you can forgive me for not doing so. When you were eighteen months old your mother was murdered by a man called Tom Riddle. This same man also tried to kill you and failed, the result of which is that lightning bolt scar on your forehead.
That night I took you away with me and swore to protect you but I failed only hours later when I let my guard down and you were bitten by a Werewolf.
A dear friend of mine helped me that night and as she has already proven herself once I am sure that you will be able to trust her. Narcissa Malfoy and her son Draco will be more than willing to help you and perhaps explain more than I can in this letter, however be cautious when you approach them, her husband is in league with the man who killed your mother.
Stay with Damon and Clay until you can find the Malfoy’s, they will not let harm come to you, I am sure of that. They have been good friends to the both of us but I realise that you will need answers. I am sorry that I will not be there to give them to you.
Whatever happens my son, do not trust everything you are told, the truth may be more complicated than it seems, especially when it is spoken by Albus Dumbledore, he is not a friend to either of us. Stay safe and know that I love you.
Your Father, Severus.
By the time Harry had finished reading the letter he couldn’t hold it back anymore. He just let the emotions flow letting the tears stream down his cheeks endlessly. He had so many questions and no one to answer them now that his father was gone and he was alone. So much had been hidden from him it seemed and he resented that.
It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that Harry finally managed to cry himself to sleep, the letter clutched tightly to his chest as the last remaining link that he had to his father. The final words his Dad had said to him echoing in his mind as if stuck in a loop.
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Fragmented Soul