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Old Friend	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and her associates own Harry Potter. I make no money from my stories.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: The Potterverse is owned by JKR.

Wandsong and Idris Lydiard and his pack are all mine.

Chapter 6: First Moon

Alphard knew there were still whisperers in the pack, those who minded what he was to Idris, especially because he was a wizard. Let them jabber. Names did not upset him. They were cowards who would not confront him and they certainly ran scared of their Alpha. He could help but feel absurdly proud that he was now mated to Idris. He felt at his age it was probably a juvenile reaction, but he revelled in it just the same.

Now Alphard was busy with a self-imposed schedule of Healing and teaching, Botolph collected Alphard's post and Daily Prophet from the pub every day. Sneed reported regularly on the progress of Sirius's posthumous pardon. Alphard still felt the wound of Sirius's death deeply and with it, his own guilt had sharpened, but he threw himself into the work he found to do in the pack, and the comfort he drew from Idris and Angharad.

He read Sneed's letters with mixed feelings: satisfaction that the gross smear would be removed from Sirius's name and simmering resentment that it took his nephew's death for the Wizarding world to see the injustice of incarceration without trial, and his own guilt for not seeking his nephew out sooner. Now Riddle was revealed, the Minister for Magic had no call to blame his nephew for every nefarious crime committed. The blame now fell correctly.

The extended pack on the whole did not care for the Wizarding world's news, but Idris would always discuss the latest developments as he himself looked for articles on how Riddle was using werewolves against the Wizarding population. They were remote here. Well protected. But Idris felt a vague flutter of worry. How long would they remain safe?

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

Stacy sat between Alphard and Angharad, practising Wingardium Leviosa. Angharad held Stacy's enormous wrist to shape the swish and flick required as Alphard encouraged him to concentrate. They had spent days alone concentrating on how he enunciated the charm. It had been frustrating for Stacy. At times, he would almost howl in his inarticulate frustration, but Angharad would soothe him, and Alphard would sit back, unthreatening and non-judgemental. Stacy would regain his courage and try over and over again.

Stacy had plenty of magic and would often release powerful, destructive bursts, but channelling it was proving quite an undertaking. Alphard and Angharad had managed to refine his Lumos so that it was no longer maxima every time, and he could now cast Nox. His casting of Accio had become more precise and less violent so items no longer came crashing into him at great speed.

Botolph and Spindle had taken to watching and encouraging him. Idris didn't stop by often as he seemed to frighten Stacy, but he noted the men's involvement with their friend, encouraged that they seemed to be involving themselves more in the pack. It had been apparent to him at the outset that there was no Alpha so he had resigned himself to the unwitting recruitment of the Whitby Werewolves. With Stacy's constant presence by Angharad's side, Botolph often followed. Soon, Spindle joined too, and within weeks the others seem to trail in a bedraggled and aimless group. Idris had begun to assign them tasks and each seemed to take to them, and work with a will. Then, at the last full moon, Conway had asked if they could run with the pack. He supposed troubadours had their uses, but a small part of him wondered why they hadn't wanted to join the satellite packs.

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

It had been a fortnight since Idris and Alphard had first lain together. Alphard slept next to Idris and Angharad at night in the roundhouse, but separate in his bedding. It suited him, and he cared not at all that Idris took Angharad at night. He found he was pleased to be part of this family; it soothed him and warmed him. After all, he had his own time with Idris; Idris made sure of it: time to talk and to love.

Idris had contrived that they would be private in the tent, even if it was just for an hour or so, for he understood something now in a way he had not before. Sometimes, Idris and Alphard would make love. Sometimes they would just talk and catch up on all the years they were apart. Idris had decided from that first time by the lake that was so different from how he was with his mate in the pack – he wanted his time Alphard to be private. As Angharad had said, Alphard was a wizard. He was neither feral nor primal, although he was passionate. There had been more tenderness in Idris's taking of this grown man than even his own first time with his first mate had been all those years ago.

/

Idris had been industrious in the pack. He didn't need to learn his place; his understanding of it was instinctive. He was educated, clever, quick and strong. Others seemed to follow his lead when Idris was tasked with doing so. The Alpha quickly understood that Idris had potential to be more than just the pack's wandmaker. He had a gentleness that belied his large stature and seemed naturally to take the weaker ones under his wing.

He also had a sadness that Dai never could fathom. Dai knew the boy's story, of course. But even now, five years on, the boy ... no, the young man ... remained sad and quiet. Most of the young women made very clear they wanted to be his mate. They would vie for his attention and then gradually lose interest when their attentions were kindly rebuffed. Idris's friends teased him as one by one each took a mate and began to produce cubs of their own.

Dai wondered. He had heard of such men as he suspected Idris to be but, if that was so, there was no mate for Idris here. Idris was a man now. Ever stronger within the pack, his fighting skills becoming legendary and duelling skills second to none. There was a lot of passion in Idris, Dai could see. Too much for a twenty year-old man without a mate. He called Idris to him and told him as his Alpha, Dai would choose his mate.

/

"Did you argue?" Alphard asked, his head lying on Idris's stomach as Idris stroked Alphard's hair.

"Of course not. Dai had made the decision and he was Alpha," said Idris, as a matter of fact.

Alphard got up and leant on his elbow, watching Idris's face.

"You would do whatever he said? Even take a wife?"

"Aye," Idris nodded. "He took me in. Protected me from Vargulf. Of course."

/

Megan was a born werewolf in the Snowdon pack. She was dark and fine looking. Many of the young men courted her. She had long ago set her cap for Idris. Such a fine, good-looking boy when he joined. Now, such a man. Strong. Healthy. Certainly good breeding material. Quiet though, which Megan found odd. All the born werewolves were boisterous, but not Idris. Often he was to be found whittling wood, making wands. He would always speak when spoken to, and he was funny once he unwound. But Megan could see he was sad. She knew the story: how he had been Turned and beaten by Vargulf, the Darkest and most violent of werewolves; how he had escaped to his da, but was driven away. It was a sad story, for sure. But it was years ago. She still had hopes.

The Alpha approached her. He wanted her to be Idris's mate. Well, Megan had never heard of the Alpha choosing before – refusing, yes; choosing, no. She found she wasn't surprised. Idris was looking more and more like Alpha material as he got older. He rarely challenged others to fights, but he was often challenged because of his size and skill. He beat all comers and then, with good grace, helped them off the ground where he had dumped them. If Dai was thinking of a successor, then Idris must have a mate. No Alpha was without a mate.

/

"He chose his successor? I didn't think things worked that way?" Alphard said.

"All leaders manipulate what they can. There would come a time when he would be challenged, or he would be defeated in a battle with another pack. He was trying to put me in a position to take over if that arose."

/

When Dai told him he must take the mate that had been chosen, Idris had been terrified. He could not deny he was pleased to act as look-out for the pack at night, as all young, single werewolves did. The sexual atmosphere of the roundhouse once the lights were doused was fraught for him. Idris couldn't deny the scents drove his libido wild with desire, yet there was no-one he wanted. Sometimes, he would relieve himself but he always thought of Alphard, even though he tried to force himself to think of women. There were so many pretty women in the pack. He tried to picture them, kissing them, stroking them as he had Alphard. He felt nothing but unease at best; at worst disgust.

He didn't know what to do. He could confess to Dai that he did not – could not – find women attractive. What then? Would he be cast out? This was his family. No. He had no option. He agreed.

When the time came, Megan moved her bedding next to Idris. He had been nervous; she had not. She had undressed him, cherished him with her fingers as she did so. His fingers trembled as he had undressed her. He was scared. Not in the way he had been of Vargulf, but because it was an intimacy he did not want; an intimacy he had pledged to another. This – this would be the end of that dream to which he only then realised he had clung so desperately.

His life was what it was. He pushed down his heartbreak. He squashed that part of him that was repulsed. It wasn't Megan's fault. He had known her for five years. She had become a fine woman. He had to play his part. This was pack.

As gently as he could, he stroked her skin on her neck and shoulders, pushing away her long black hair – the wrong long black hair. He closed his eyes and pushed away his dream and marked her as he had seen countless others mark their mates.

But as soon as he had sunk his teeth into that muscle, the animal desire of the wolf overcame him – unbidden and hugely powerful. Under any other circumstances, such strong feelings would have scared him, but he was utterly overwhelmed by the lust of a werewolf. Perhaps being born in a pack made the young sexually aware and knowing, but Megan had wanted no tentative love-making. He and Megan, virgins both, had had sex as feral as any of the older werewolves that night. They had simply joined the werewolf rut.

/

Alphard stared at Idris, shocked.

"You didn't hurt her? I thought it always hurt girls the first time. That they bled."

Idris shook his head.

"Looking back on it, I don't know, Alf. Megan showed no pain. She became the same as me on the bite." He shrugged, suddenly feeling quite sheepish under Alphard's amazed stare. He laughed softly. "I can't describe how my life was suddenly different. Once you Claim a mate as a werewolf, it's like they become part of you – physically and emotionally." He reached forward and squeezed Alphard's thigh signifying that this is what Alphard had become – again. Alphard held the hand and encouraged Idris to continue.

"Megan became my world. It is what werewolves are. Within the year, she became pregnant. And that," Idris shook his head slowly, "that was something beyond anything else."

He looked at Alphard, worriedly. Alphard smiled at Idris's concern.

"You hardly need to worry about that," said Alphard. "Clearly, I was never going to have children of my own. I even had lovers who offered to go through conception rituals, but – I never wanted it. I've never regretted it."

Idris shook his head to hear Alphard talk so. His children had brought him more joy than he had ever thought he could have. But then, he recalled what Alphard's family were. Perhaps it was not so strange for Alphard never to have sought children of his own. They had no more time for today for Idris to think on it. Both had work to do.

As Idris dressed, Alphard passed him his clothes, just as he had removed them, one by one. He picked up Idris's dragon-hide pouch and replaced it around his neck. He remembered it from when they were young. He knew these pouches were rare and for the keeping of special items. Only the owner could retrieve the items. He had never asked what it contained, even then.

Idris saw him looking and, as he recalled what he kept there, a thought struck him.

"Do you want to see what's in here?"

"If you want to show me," Alphard said lightly. Idris sat on the bed and pulled Alphard down to sit next to him.

From the pouch he drew a pendant and passed it to Alphard who laid it on his palm, his face questioning.

"Bronwen," Idris said. Alphard didn't know who Bronwen was, but he saw sadness in Idris's face and didn't ask. He would find out in time. "It carries an invisibility enchantment for the wearer."

Next was a wand. Alphard remembered it. Idris used to wear it as his secondary wand when it wasn't fashionable to do so. It had been his mother's.

"I remember …" Alphard said as he laid the wand down carefully wondering why Idris no longer carried it.

Next was a signet ring: Welsh gold inset with a seal of Jet.

"It belonged to my taid," Idris said quietly. "My grandfather," he translated with a smile at Alphard's bewildered expression. Idris turned it over. It was far too small for Idris's large fingers. "I would have received his watch when I turned seventeen." He turned to face Alphard, knowing what he wanted to do, to recognise Alphard as a wizard. This would be it.

"Will you wear this ring as my mate, Alf?" he asked, holding his hand out for Alphard's.

"I'd be honoured," Alphard said. He had shut away his own Black seal ring in his vault when he'd renounced his family. He could think of nothing more fitting than this, as he took the ring and placed it over his finger and Idris smoothed it down and then caught Alphard's lips in a kiss. It wasn't a society bonding. Indeed, Alphard had never thought he would have such a thing. And yet, he felt he could never ask for more than just this - to wear Idris's family seal - a wizarding way to plight his troth. His other hand caressed the hand that wore the ring for a few seconds, getting used to the feel of it on his finger. Idris smiled, his dark eyes dancing to see Alphard so touched.

Finally, Idris withdrew a folded, tattered piece of parchment. He hesitated in passing it to Alphard whose eyes widened as he realised what the parchment was. But it couldn't be? After all these years? His hand slightly trembling, his took the parchment between two fingers and gently opened it.

It was. It was Alphard's letter that he sent by Deacon all those years ago when Idris went missing.

"You got it!" Alphard whispered, his voice harsh.

"Yes. I had nothing to answer with, and then Vargulf tried to trap your bird. It got away," Idris replied softly, not telling Alphard how he'd wrestled the bird away from Vargulf and freed it, and had been beaten for it.

"But you kept it," Alphard marvelled at the tatty parchment, so creased and worn, bearing the ghost of his own handwriting with its desperate pleas. So clearly read over and over. He closed his eyes. To think of it hurt his heart. He squeezed Idris's hand and tried not to think of the frightened fifteen year-old Idris re-reading this parchment like a talisman. He needed to put that away from himself and think instead of the man before him. He pulled Idris to him to kiss him once more.

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

It was nearly full moon. Nearly a month since he had been Claimed by Idris. It astonished him that he could feel so complete in these humble surroundings where everyone made do.

He, Alphard Black, remained a very wealthy man. He sat at his writing desk with his various calculations. He needed to be careful. He wanted to try to use his wealth to bring comfort to the pack without insulting them. This pack, especially with Idris at its helm, was proud of its self-reliance. None of its werewolves stole or cheated. Idris did not allow it. They made their way as the healthy young obtained work from Muggles as labourers and some as artisans where they had skills. They didn't care how far afield they went as they could Apparate. Whatever they earned, they gave over to Angharad who kept the Muggle money for supplies. Others worked within the pack, or tended the herbs and vegetables, foraged for ingredients from the forest or the mountains, hunted for meat. Everyone had work to do, even the werewolves from the satellite packs.

None of them had access to Wizarding money and, to a point, it didn't matter. Where the pack was truly poor was in medical care. Angharad and some of the women cared for the sick and elderly. Angharad was skilled in her own way, although untrained, but she had the understanding of the werewolf condition that Alphard did not. She and Alphard now worked together. She also had a number of potions and balms that were quite ingenious. She told him that Seth Moore, the wizard mate of Remus Lupin, had invented them around werewolf sensitivities and their own natural resources. They were excellent, but not enough. Now, he needed to work out how he could fully stock this tent with its extension charm into a proper medical facility with all the medications and stock he needed to provide his new family with excellent care.

Idris had said to him that he hoped Alphard could be the Healer and the teacher for the pack, bringing his proper education to them, and also to be their guardian when they were wolves now times were becoming more troubled. So Idris was Alpha and Angharad, the pack mother, and Alphard, the wizard guardian. Idris had liked the symmetry of it.

Once Alphard had completed some owl orders for supplies and a letter to Sneed with further instructions, he found himself composing a letter to Albus Dumbledore. He felt almost driven to know how and why his old Transfiguration master had suddenly interested himself in the affairs of Alphard Black, recluse in Spain. Three times, Dumbledore had written to him, each time changing his life. Alphard asked why he had not told him of Idris's whereabouts or indeed of Sirius's innocence before this time. He did his best to keep his tone light and enquiring, and not to accuse, but he needed to understand.

He received a reply, with a phoenix feather, just two days later. He sat to read with Idris and Angharad at his shoulders.

Dear Alphard,

I can understand how it must be confusing for you but nothing was concealed from you. I found out about Idris from Remus Lupin, who has been working on my behalf with the werewolf packs, as you now know. As for telling you, dear boy, I had understood that you were dead as did the rest of Wizarding Britain.

I recently took a leave of absence – rather forced upon me, I am afraid to say - from my duties as Headmaster of Hogwarts. I had some research to do regarding a former student of this school. I suspect you know the one. During my extensive researches, I came across the paperwork of your renunciation ritual filed with the Ministry. I realised then that you might not be dead at all.

As I recalled what I knew of your history, I suspected that, perhaps, you would like to see one another again. I hope I did not mistake what I remembered of your attachment. My phoenix can find anyone who lives so I hoped my letters would reach both of you.

Regarding Sirius, I confess that, given your renunciation of your family, it did not cross my mind to tell you of your nephew's innocence in my initial letter to you. I hope you will forgive an old man for not understanding the reasons behind your renunciation to divine that Sirius's innocence would be one of your deepest desires. Had I known all these things, perhaps Sirius could have been better protected than I managed. He could have had safe refuge with you.

However, I will say to you, as much as I am able, that I believe other family members of interest to you still thrive. More I cannot say although I can make the appropriate overtures, should you wish it.

I hope I have acquitted myself enough to ask a favour of you now. I would deem it an honour if you and Idris would agree to meet with me after the full moon. I recall The Boar's Head serves fine ale. We could meet there if it suits.

Letters addressed to the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will find me.

Albus Dumbledore

They stared at the missive. Alphard felt the heat and sickness of self-recrimination. Of course, Dumbledore couldn't have known Alphard was either alive or interested in Sirius's fate. He was the author of his own misfortune. Idris sensed Alphard's distress and circled a calloused thumb on the bite at the crook of his neck. Alphard felt his muscles relax at Idris's touch and his uneasiness calm.

"What does he mean by family that may interest you?" Angharad asked. Alphard shook his head, certain he had no interest in the Dark members of his family, but suddenly he grasped the meaning as if by revelation.

"Andy!" he gasped and turned to Angharad, excited now. "My niece, Andromeda. She married a Muggle-born," he hastily explained. "You have no idea of the furore it caused. She was disowned and disinherited. I gave her a dowry, but I've heard nothing from them for years. I believe they had a daughter. Yes. Yes, that's right." More and more details came flooding back to him, and with them, understanding.

"Without a doubt, she and her husband would have been hunted down by the more insanely blood-purist in my family. They must have hidden under the Fidelius! I didn't even think of her to ask Sirius how she was, and he never told me. That's how it works. Just like when I visited Sirius – I didn't even remember my old family home until I was taken into the charm."

With a smile, he picked up his quill. "I think I need an 'appropriate overture', don't you?" Angharad squeezed his arm and smiled broadly, encouraging him as Alphard began to respond. "Do you want to meet him?" he asked Idris as he wrote. When he got no response, he turned to see Idris holding the phoenix feather between his fingers with a look of deep concentration.

"What will you do with these?" Idris asked, his eyes seeming to pierce the feathers.

"I had thought maybe for quills," Alphard said lightly, tipping a wink to Angharad.

Idris drew in a breath sharply over his teeth. Such a desecration of a rare thing. "I would dearly like to use them in wand-making," he said looking up sharply, then he saw Alphard smile.

"It's what I was keeping them for," Alphard said and carefully passed over the other feathers into Idris's hands that received them reverentially.

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

Today was the full moon. The past two full moons, Alphard had spent with Sirius, away from the pack. Now everything had changed and this time, he would stay. Alphard was nervous and not a little apprehensive.

The change to the mood in the encampment was stark. It was as if all of the werewolves had been drained of their energy. They were all pale and listless but trying to do the best they could. It was the frail and elderly werewolves that worried Alphard. He spoke to Angharad and Idris about maybe staying with them through their transformations to perform healing charms as they injured themselves quite badly. Their injuries didn't seem to heal so well as the others. Of course, they both refused. Even an elderly werewolf could administer a bite that could infect him, and any of them were still dangerous enough to kill him, just as any elderly predator could. Alphard must change into his Animagus form and remain in that form throughout the moon - Idris extracted his word on it.

So Alphard had spent the day giving muscle relaxants and fever-relieving elixirs to those who concerned him the most and making preparations for the ministrations that would be required for the next day, ensuring he had enough pain relieving, healing and replenishing potions and salves.

It was now late afternoon. The atmosphere of the encampment seemed to change yet again. It had become tense and, rather than cooling, the air seemed to heat. As Alphard finished racking the phials of potions for easy dosage, he felt the hairs on his arms and neck raise as the air in the tent wafted around him and then he felt Idris behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around him, his large hands pressing Alphard close to him. Alphard gasped and closed his eyes as he was almost overwhelmed by the musk Idris exuded, the heat of his body and the strength of his embrace.

"Take off your clothes," Idris commanded quietly into Alphard's ear, as his hands drew back and held Alphard's shoulders. Alphard undid the clasps on his robe, and toed off his boots, finding his body was starting to tremble in anticipation and sudden desire. Idris pulled off the robe and held Alphard to him once more as he bit and sucked at his neck and back. It was almost mesmeric. Alphard felt his will leak from him as his groin burned hot and bright and he groaned loudly at the feel of Idris's teeth and mouth on his skin and the press of Idris's body against Alphard's back and his hard cock against the cleft of his backside.

Alphard didn't think he had ever felt such consuming desire as this, almost a desperation for Idris to take him. Idris himself burned as he had never felt before. It wasn't like the physical imperative of the night-time rut when he took Angharad, or the deep desire when he would make love to Alphard. This was different.

This was the intense animalistic lust of the wolf, brought forward for his human mate. He could barely control himself, he wanted Alphard so badly it pained him.

It was so unlike the tenderness when Idris had taken him before, and yet Alphard felt his body ready itself, their chemistry preparing them. He braced himself against his desk as Idris's fingers quested inside him roughly. A deep, low moan escaped his throat and he pushed back. Idris took his fingers away, and then thrust into Alphard fully, growling his name. Alphard moaned loudly. It should have hurt, but it burned deliciously throughout the whole of his body.

Just as Alphard thought he could feel no more intensity, Idris found his Claiming bite and bit into it once more. Alphard cried out as he now understood what Idris said about sex on the bite. As soon as Idris bite into him, Alphard lost all control, his mind unravelling into the sensations of Idris thrusting into him, striking his sweet spot with devastating accuracy, his legs and arms weakening as he felt delirious as his orgasm built, stronger than ever before.

Idris grabbed Alphard hard, one arm wrapping around his waist as the other hand splayed over Alphard's chest, feeling his mate weakening as his own thrusts strengthened at the sheer and brilliant sensations of Alphard's muscles clutching at his cock. He grunted now with each thrust, pumping harder as each of Alphard's cries of pleasure thrilled his groin. His hard and fast pace began to become erratic as his desire scaled sharply and as he felt himself tip over, and he bit into Alphard once more and heard Alphard's orgasmic cry as Idris himself growled with the brightest orgasm he had ever felt as he emptied forcefully into Alphard's trembling body.

As they calmed, Idris supported Alphard over to his bed and laid him gently down, and then laid down next to him, letting Alphard nestle in the crook of his shoulder, gently soothing his trembling body. Alphard himself had never felt so drained, and yet so contented and relaxed. He drifted away to sleep.

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

"Come," he heard Angharad say as he felt her soft hand on his shoulder. "It's time."

Idris gently moved Alphard to a sitting position so he could sit too. Alphard was momentarily confused when he realised Angharad was unclothed. But of course she was, he chided himself; she would be transforming soon. Idris stood and helped Alphard to his feet. He was still quite sore but physically very satisfied. He wanted to spend more time just resting with Idris, but it was not to be. The moon could not be denied.

"You promised to me, Alf. Change now, before our change comes. Do not, under any circumstances, change into a man before the wolves. We will not know you. You will be killed." Alphard nodded, and Idris kissed him roughly.

Angharad clasped his hands in hers. "Stand your ground with the others. You are submissive to no-one but our mate." She kissed his cheek tenderly. Alphard nodded and changed into the large white dog. Both Angharad and Idris hugged the dog by his neck and then left the tent with the dog walking between them until they reached the clearing.

It was thronged with werewolves waiting to change. They didn't mill about aimlessly. Each and every one knelt or sat, eyes closed, breathing deeply, waiting for the moon. The atmosphere of anticipation and expectation made Alphard's coat bristle. He sat and waited with the rest, his hackles rising as he began to pant as fear dried out his throat and nestled in his gut.

From nowhere, he felt a tug in his gut that made him yelp in surprise. It coincided with the first whimpers of the various werewolves around him, including his own mate. The various whimpers of children, women and men began to change to moans of pain rising to screams and he heard the sounds of soft tissues tearing and bones breaking. He watched his beloved Idris begin to yowl like a dog as his human form began to shatter and break down and his wolf form began to take shape. He only had eyes for Idris as his yowl became an unearthly howl of pain, that gradually changed to an exhausted whimper and panting of completion, although the sound was amplified by the many werewolves around them.

Alphard could never deny the fear that chilled his blood to watch all the pack settle into their wolf forms, even the children becoming cubs, playful and yapping, being nipped by their mothers, once the transformation was over.

He took in the wolf form that was Idris, and sheer astonishment chased away his fear, as he stared at the large white wolf. Had perhaps the Pledge recognised what Idris had become and magic established his Animagus form thereafter? Who could say? But surely this could not be coincidence.

The white wolf stood stiff legged and tall, his ears forward and tail vertical. His hackles bristled. The dog in Alphard awoke to the signal as a growl formed in Idris's throat. Alphard dropped his whole body, drawing his ears and lips back, placing his tail between his legs, arching his back. The dog did not let Alphard roll onto his back, at least not until he knew Idris recognised him as one of his own.

Alphard waited, his heart hammering, the pads on his paws perspiring, still hearing that low growl as the white wolf approached him, sniffing, scenting though its mouth. The nose nuzzled into the hair on Alphard's neck, finding the renewed bite. The wolf sniffed it mightily and his growling slowly waned and a small yip escaped his throat as he then sniffed along the length of Alphard's back and unceremoniously sniffed at Alphard's genitals and rear. Another yip followed and the white wolf turned back to Alphard and barked at him and then at the pack that surrounded them. Alphard's dog recognised it as being the bark of acceptance, indicating Alphard was Idris's and could run with the pack. The betas and the omegas stood down. The dark grey wolf he knew to be Angharad approached him then, sniffing his bite closely and with a yip of her own, nudged him. The dog knew he'd been accepted by the dark wolf, and he then stood, so much larger than any wolf there, but his haunches and ears slightly lowered to signify his submission.

Idris barked and trotted off, followed by Angharad and Alphard and the pack trooped after. The smell of all the wolves assailed Alphard's nostrils, a smell so hefty, Alphard thought he could chew it as the pack began to lope towards the mountain he had run up before. He tried to take in as much as he could of how the pack looked and was stunned to realise that it wasn't just Idris's pack that was running with him, but the other packs too, running in its wake. He wondered how the wolves from the satellite packs had known to band together for safety and submit to an overall Alpha as their human counterparts had done. His brain, dulled in the dog's body, found it couldn't count the number of wolves, but he guessed at over one hundred. One hundred wolves running. A human's nightmare.

He didn't care. For now, all he wanted to do was to feel the rush of the wind in his coat, the smell of the pack mingling with the crisp mountain air, the ancient forest and the gorse of the mountain as they scaled it and he listened to the barks, yips and odd whines and the sounds of the hundreds of paws on the shale as they ascended until they gained the summit and the wolves began to howl. One hundred wolves, howling at the full moon in a massed lupine chorus. Alphard joined in with his booming deep howl, letting his mind go with the pack.

It was well the mountains were secluded but there would be remote farms, both Muggle and magical, that would be securing all their fortifications at the haunting primal sounds echoing down the mountains this night.

Next chapter: Dumbledore always has a purpose.
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