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Old Friend	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3802 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and her associates own Harry Potter. I make no money from my stories.

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Disclaimer: The Potterverse is owned by JKR.

Wandsong and Idris Lydiard are all mine.

Summary: Alphard Black is a scion of the Ancient & Most Noble House of Black. Toujours Pur. Idris Lydiard is the Alpha werewolf of a mountain pack. But before he was Turned, he and Alphard were at Hogwarts together and they gave each other a pledge. SLASH. Explicit M/M.

This is part of a back story to my own character, Idris Lydiard, in my main story, "You Will Not Kiss Me" (an Alpha!Remus Snupin). You don't have to read that, but it does have more of Idris's story.

Dedicated to reviewers who wanted to know more.

Chapter 1: Rendezvous and Reminiscence

Idris stood outside "The Boar's Head", the first inn at the foot of the mountains. He'd received a message to meet Alphard here. He'd thought long and hard about whether to come here, after all these years. They each knew that the other was alive in the world. Indeed, Idris knew that Alphard had searched for him for years after he'd been Turned. Dearest Alf. He hadn't let Alphard find him. He could not bear the handsome, patrician Alphard to see the half-breed beast he had become.

Now here he was, decades later on a literal and metaphorical threshold. The anonymous writer of the parchment said to be here this night or the writer would tell Alphard where the pack could be found. He couldn't have Alphard walk into danger, even if it was his own pack. He had thought perhaps Remus Lupin or his human mate had written the parchment, but neither's scent was upon it and was it something he thought either capable of: they were not so devious, he thought, although he knew Remus Lupin was a spy and there was more to his mate than met the eye. He knew the writer was old, older than he. He folded it and put it in his pocket, inhaled deeply to settle his nerves and entered.

He didn't have to look around, or acknowledge the regulars who stopped talking as they took in the sight of the large man with bright, dark eyes, shaggy hair as white as snow, and sideburns, and large, cursed scars raking across his weathered face. He caught Alphard's scent immediately. It shocked him that he could recall it so well after all these years. He looked straight to the private alcove, curtained off from the rest of the inn and entered it.

"Old friend," Alphard said, his mellifluous voice, deeper with age as he stood to greet Idris, his grey eyes bright with trepidation.

"Alf, my dear friend," Idris said gruffly, his throat rough with emotion.

Both men stood and almost moved to one another, but then moved back to sit down instead, hesitant and awkward after so many years.

The werewolf sat down slowly opposite Alphard Black, still handsome, distinguished with white wings in his black and steel hair, still long, but tied back, befitting a man of his age and status, his clothing still finer than Idris had ever worn even before his Turning. Idris's dark eyes were bright with tears of recognition, as unidentified emotions swamped him unbidden. He had thought he was ready; he had thought he was strong enough to see Alphard after all these years. He was wrong.

They regarded each other for a long period, each with their own hands clasped on the table before them, so near to the other, but not touching. Alphard poured Idris a tankard of ale from the clay pitcher on the table, his hands tremulous. Then Idris spoke again.

"How did you find me, Alf? After all this time?"

Alphard reached into his heavy brocade trimmed robe and brought out a parchment and smoothed it out on the table before him, identical parchment to that received by Idris.

"I don't know who sent it." Alphard looked hopefully up at Idris, who picked up the parchment, and saw that it was addressed to Alphard in Spain, but he didn't read the contents. As if worried that Idris might think he had gone to Spain without a thought for him, he rushed to say, "I looked for you. Everywhere I went, every country, I looked for you. For years, I searched." His voice cracked, and he looked back down at the parchment.

"I know," Idris said simply. "At the time I knew."

"Then why didn't you let me find you?" Alphard asked, his voice plaintive.

"Look at me. Look at what I became."

"But I loved you. I missed you. I wouldn't have cared," Alphard said tentatively, his heart full. whether with joy or sadness, he did not know. His Idris was here with him after all these years; but would he leave without him this night?

"No," Idris said firmly. "You wouldn't have loved me for long once you found me. The pack found me - it was my new life. It was the only life I could ever have."

"No," Alphard whispered. "I loved you so, I love you still." Alphard slowly reached out his hand and tenderly traced the raked scars across Idris's face. "Do they hurt?" Alphard's cultured voice sang, his voice touching Idris's heart the way his fingers touched his skin.

"No, not any more," Idris answered softly, his eyes closed at Alphard's touch. The touch of Alphard's hand was like fire across his skin. It always had been, from their very first touch, from their very first kiss. He closed his eyes sharply as remembrance pierced him. Alphard remembered too.

That kiss he felt for the first time in the Dark Forest when they were fifteen, on a saucy dare from each other, although they both knew it was a ruse for what they really wanted but how they made light of it as they ventured into the centre of the forest.

"Doesn't every one do this in your dorm? They're like bloody rabbits in mine," Alf quipped, sitting cross legged in front of his most special friend: the friend whose eyes he sought out in the Great Hall at every meal; who he made a point of sitting with in History of Magic and Astrology, the only classes they shared; whose company he sought whenever he could and had done since the day they first met on the Hogwarts Express when they were eleven. The quiet, burly boy with the merry eyes and the wonderful black shaggy hair and the huge smile made him happy and made his insides squirm in a way he didn't fully understand, but was coming to.

"Some do," Idris replied. "Say it gives a better feeling than their own hand, but I don't want them touching me. It's private, that is."

Alf laughed. That was practically a monologue for his friend and he laughed. His throat was dry. He wanted to touch Idris. He was sure, so sure, Idris wanted to touch him: his eyes smouldered at him. He was certain, and he always knew when Idris was near: he could just detect his smell and it always made his insides squirm deliciously.

"I'd like you to touch me," Alphard said, staring at his friend, terribly aware of his painful erection under his robe. "I think it would be ... nice."

Idris smiled. "I've never done that to anyone else." He blushed, furiously, as if he was in some error. "But, I think I'd like you to touch me too." He could not admit to his dear friend that it was always Alf he thought of when he touched himself at night with the curtains closed around himself and placed a strong silencing charm so he could say Alf's name. He knew some of his dorm mates liked mutual masturbation, and thought no more of it than if they were playing Quidditch together, but Idris knew it meant much more than that – to him anyway.

Of course, now it was agreed, neither boy had the courage to approach the other and grinned at each other stupidly with embarrassment. In the end, it was the quiet boy who made the move. Idris shuffled closer on his backside, and straightened his legs so they stretched out either side of Alphard's body and for the first time in his indulged and confident life, Alphard felt shy and overwhelmed by longing for his friend's touch. He stretched his own legs under Idris's.

Idris laid his large but gentle hands on Alphard's thighs and said quietly, "The boys in the dorm, they sound quite rough when they do this to each other. I don't want to be rough, Alf."

Alphard gulped. He, unlike Idris, had joined in and knew it was often rough, he supposed reflexively so the boys were not considered to have a preference for other boys. He'd been like that himself. He'd always thought of Idris though, and wished it was his hand and not his dorm mate's. "Nor me," he whispered, now realising his light suggestion of a dare was meaning more and more to him as they delayed. This wouldn't just be tossing off with a dorm mate. This would have meaning. He suddenly wished they were somewhere warm and romantic. He wondered if Idris would think he was a fool if he knew. He hadn't even known he was capable of feeling this embarrassed.

For all Alphard's embarrassment, Idris was feeling more and more confident. This is what he had fantasised about for so long now. He was more aroused than he had ever been and his heart was pumping violently. He desperately wanted to touch Alphard, but didn't want to rush him or scare him.

Idris reached forward tentatively to Alphard's robe at his waist and spelled his belt away. He grinned foolishly at his friend because he had made the first move. He very much wanted Alphard to make a move – to confirm that he wanted to do this too. Alphard copied his move, his hands trembling. Idris caught his hands.

"Are you sure you want to touch? We won't if you don't want to." Idris whispered. A small moan escaped from Alphard.

"Very much," he gasped, worried now he was sounding too desperate and he would scare Idris away but he was being overwhelmed by this new, burning excitement.

But no, Idris smiled broadly. "Good."

He pushed forward both hands and gently, and intently, began to unbutton Alphard's robe. Alphard closed his eyes against the feel of it: his young skin registering every single brush of Idris's fingers against his virgin skin as he worked. He had not expected it. He had thought they would just reach inside each other's robes but this – this was exquisite. He felt the whisper of air on his skin and knew that Idris had opened his robe. What would he think? And when had he, Alphard Black, ever cared what anyone thought of how he looked?

Idris managed to keep his own passion under control. He didn't really have any idea how to be romantic, although he knew he wanted to be. So he would be gentle. He was a broad and strong boy, sometimes unwittingly rougher than he intended. He would not be rough with Alphard and unbuttoned his clothes with as gentle a touch as he could muster. As he saw the perfect pale skin appear as the robes came undone, he yearned to place his lips on the skin but that couldn't possibly be welcome, could it? They were only doing what dorm mates did, weren't they? Weren't they? He was sure his dorm mates didn't do or feel this, but he couldn't help himself, he wanted to see all of his friend. His heart beat furiously as he caught his first sight of his friend's erection, against his stomach and he held open Alphard's robe to drink in his first sight of Alphard's beautiful body. Such ways he'd like to touch him. If only he could. If only Alphard would do the same to him.

Alphard opened his eyes. Idris had a dreamy expression on his face as he held open Alphard's robe with his hands and he gave Alphard a small smile and dropped his hands and closed his eyes. Alphard reached forward with his passion-fuelled trembling hands and unbuttoned Idris's robe. It was much less ornate in its fastenings and came undone more easily than his own. He heard Idris's breath hitch as he glanced a finger across his skin on his chest. It must feel to Idris as it had felt to him. With this realisation, he could not stop himself brushing one finger from the hollow of Idris's neck down his breast bone lightly. A beautiful moan came from Idris's throat and Alphard felt his own desire thicken more. He must see his friend, then they could touch. He finished and opened Idris's robe as Idris had done to him.

His friend's body was so different to his own. Broader, more muscular, hair starting on his chest, leading tantalisingly down to his own erection. Alphard swallowed hard. He realised how much he wanted to touch and taste the body before him, and he realised he didn't really know how men made love, but he wanted to, oh Merlin, he wanted to so much it was painful.

Idris and Alphard stared at each other – faces and bodies. Again, it was Idris who made the first move. He shuffled closer to Alphard until they were no more than inches from each other. He lightly brushed one finger up the shaft of Alphard's erection and lightly grazed its tip. He breathed in sharply and did the same to Idris, whose breath hitched. How their dorm mates had been rough with each other, neither boy could fathom. Their own cocks felt raw, as if none had ever touched them before.

"Alf," Idris said softly, and Alphard looked into Idris's deepest, darkest gaze and Idris took in the darkening slate of Alphard's beautiful eyes – the colour of a stormy sky, he thought, over the mountain where he was born. It took Idris's breath away. Idris wrapped his fingers around Alphard's cock gently and said his name again. It took Alphard's breath away. "Touch me, Alf."

As gently as Idris had taken him in hand, so Alphard wrapped his fingers around Idris and together on an unspoken cue they lightly stroked each other, savouring the feel of their own and the other's and the sound the other made. It was so blissfully new, so bright, so sharp. Part of them wanted to stroke hard and fast to bring each other to an orgasm they knew would be fierce. But the other part of them, the part that knew that this was special to them, that it had meaning for them, did not do so, but stroked each other more sensuously than they had ever touched themselves revelling in the exquisitely searing pleasure that shot through their bodies at each other's touch.

And then, when Alphard was certain he could feel no more pleasure than he was feeling now, a searing thrill shot down to his groin, heightening his pleasure even more, where Idris had grazed Alphard's nipple with his thumbnail and he uttered a small cry and his eyes shot open. "Again," he murmured softly, and inhaled sharply when it was repeated, Idris himself hardening further seeing its effect on Alphard.

Idris was excited almost beyond endurance by Alphard's grip on him and touching Alphard's skin innervated him even more. Hearing Alphard's cries and gasps was almost as thrilling as the hand rubbing his cock so deliciously. But, oh, what he wanted now – could he? Dare he? As he thought it, Alphard responded, his own free hand now rubbing under Idris's cock and massaging his balls. Idris's head fell back with a cry. It was all so intense. So much more than he had ever thought and he knew, even though they were both trying so hard to delay, neither could hold on much longer. He must dare – he must.

His head rolled around and he leant forward so his damp forehead touched Alphard's. "Look at me, Alf. Please," he murmured. Alphard raised his face to Idris, who caught his lips, fervently hoping he would not be rejected, knowing dorm mates never, never did this, as his lips parted for the hoped-for response.

Alphard's lips tingled wildly at the feel of Idris's catching them. He was so surprised, it almost jolted him from his near-ecstasy. It was perfect. Of course it was, and he parted his own lips to respond, his tongue finding that of Idris, as they gently wrapped around each other, then more passionately, the kiss sealing the mounting delirium as they kissed harder, their hands now pumping each other hard and fast until their own pace became erratic, their mouths open against each other as they struggled to breathe as their orgasms crested and broke over them, both crying hoarsely with abandon, fierce spurts covering their hands and stomachs that had become pressed together in the heat of climax, and then slowing gradually they re-commenced the kiss.

Why had they never done this before? they both thought to themselves as they kissed as deeply as they could but their hands now still on each other's thighs.

Idris thought there was no boy so marvellous as Alphard Black. Alphard Black thought there was no boy so fine as Idris Lydiard. Both boys were sure, as they kissed, there would be no kiss to equal this one for the rest of their days.

The boys only ever left each other's side for lessons, meals and sleep. They would contrive to spend the rest of their time together, clear to all the world how they felt about each other. There might have been caustic words in the Slytherin dorm had he not been a Black, one of the oldest and most prestigious of pureblood names of wizarding aristocracy. Of course, his amour was put down to aristocratic tendencies, sowing his wild oats with this rough boy before his adulthood – that must be the reason why this most eligible bachelor had taken up with a half-blood Hufflepuff who was already apprenticed in trade. It didn't matter to any Slytherin how unusual the half-blood's gift was and the way teachers fawned on him because of it. Indeed, many gossiped that he must have somehow stolen it from some impoverished pureblood wizard.

The budding romance scandalised the older Slytherins, especially Alphard's older sister, Walburga, and the Slytherin prefect, Tom Riddle, who so violently and vocally detested imperfections in wizarding blood, but would not be so foolish as to call a Black a disgrace to the name of wizard. But he had his own plans that would settle the Hufflepuff – that was for sure. He would gain from this plan personally, and the wizarding world would gain from the severance of such a morally imperfect pair.

IL~AB~IL~AB~IL~AB

Idris almost reeled from the strength of the memory, his knowledge of who Riddle had become only so recent, finding out from Remus Lupin and his mate when they had stayed with his pack. He opened his eyes and regarded his old friend, his lover of bygone years.

Alphard's hand dropped to Idris's hands he held in his lap and squeezed them.

"You remember," Alphard said. "I know you do. You were my first love. My most special love. I never forgot you. No-one came close to you."

"It was so long ago. Why would you want to see me now?"

"I've never stopped wanting to see you, to find you. To keep you by my side, as we intended."

"Why would you wish it now?" Large, calloused, scarred hands cupped the still oh so handsome face. "Don't you have another?" Idris wondered if he really wanted to know if his beautiful Alf lay with another man once the curse had torn Idris away.

"Another? Never like you. I've had lovers. I always hoped I would find someone. But it was always you." Alphard hung his head. "Then you have? You found another?"

"I have a wife. Family." Idris found he could no longer look at Alphard's eyes, they were so sad. "Pack," he finished softly.

"A wife?" Alphard looked shocked and pained. "You love her?"

"Of course. She is my mate."

"Your mate." Alphard nodded, knowing the import of it. "When I was looking for you, I read every book I could find about werewolves. I tried to learn all about it for when I found you."

"Why did you want to find me? How could you have helped me?"

Alphard's soft, aristocratic hands found Idris's gnarled ones again and squeezed them.

"Don't you understand how in love I was? I am still. I wanted to be with you, no matter what. I should have been your mate. It should have been me! If I had found you, I wanted it to be me. I would have gone anywhere with you, or we could have run away together ..."

"I'm nothing but a dirty werewolf," Idris growled.

"No!" Alphard said insistently. "We gave each other our Pledge. Against our magic, we would be together when we were of age. We Pledged to each other, Idris," Alphard insisted softly. "I could never give you up."

That they had, in their usual refuge, the Dark Forest that seemed to hold no fear for the boy who could hear the song of the trees, especially those trees whose wood could be used for wands, for Idris Lydiard could hear Wandsong, one of the few wizards to possess such a gift. Alphard knew his Idris was unique: unique to him; unique to the wizarding world and they loved each other so.

Whenever they could steal away together they would lie with each other, partially undressed, never fully. They would touch each other, kiss each other, everything still so new that the merest gossamer touch would drive them wild. But they had not yet had sex. They read about it in books in the restricted section and knew how, but they were young, inexperienced and afraid so they Pledged to each other.

Both boys had politically powerful fathers, although at the opposite end of the political spectrum. They knew if they committed that final act of love, and either of their fathers found out, they would be forcibly separated and one or other would be sent abroad. Purebloods had ways of finding out and Pollux Black wouldn't think twice of subjecting his son to such a degrading test. As for Vereticus Lydiard: everyone knew he was a tartar who would make has son suffer if he associated in any way with the insufferable pureblood Blacks. But once Alphard and Idris were of age, their fathers could imprison them no longer. They would be free.

It was there in the Dark Forest that they gave each other their Pledge as wizards that only death would part them. When both were of age, they would consummate their Pledge, with or without their families' consent.

IL~AB~IL~AB~IL~AB

Idris's thoughts were jumbled in confusion, torn between his loyalty to his wife, the pack mother, and this beloved face from his long, long past: but he could not deny this feeling – this feeling he hadn't felt for decades – this deepest yearning as he looked into the slate grey eyes, now older than when he last searched them, but made young by hope.

"Did you know my name means 'solitary one'?" Alphard smiled sourly. "Perhaps, I am cursed to be alone after all."

"I don't want you to be alone," Idris murmured. Alphard leant in to kiss Idris, catching his lips as hesitantly as Idris had caught his that very first time.

Idris's breath caught in his throat. They had given each other their Pledge – his heart soared freely for the first time in years as he felt Alphard's lips touch his.

He tentatively returned the kiss.

A/N: This is a companion piece to my chapter fic, "You Will Not Kiss Me"
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