The Erlking

A/N: Meh, my exams are next week coming and I haven’t started revising yet. I’m so going to fail, I hate myself – but I really can’t make myself be bothered. But I will absolutely try not to touch the computer. I’m even going to hide the usb modem wire – so don’t expect to see me around for the next few weeks. I hate exams, have I ever mentioned that?

We’re into double digits chapters… !

Remember, in Harry’s 2nd year, Wormtail left Hogwarts with Voldemort after Ginny had been killed. Sirius, therefore, never saw Wormtail’s picture in the Prophet, and never escaped Azkaban.

* * *

Words: 5,340
Chapter 10
Chaos
Two days later – August 2nd 1996.

When the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry called a meeting, it usually had to do with one of two things. The first, being school related which this meeting was not. The other, of course, involved the Order of the Phoenix: a rag-tag group of witches and wizards hell bent on defeating Voldemort and rescuing the missing Harry Potter.

As members of the Order filed into number 12 Grimmauld Place, the Headmaster sat at the head of the table in the dining room, smiling sadly. “It is a sad day indeed,” he whispered as Severus joined him. All but six seats were filled by the time the meeting was to begin.

“Where are the Weasleys?” Someone asked. Many others had noticed their absence as well.

Dumbledore heaved a sigh, and ran a hand over his face wearily. He wasn’t a bad man, he honestly hadn’t intended for Harry to be abused, or abandoned. Dumbledore was one of those people who thought there was good in everyone, and it usually came back to bite him in the arse. He had believed in the best in Tom Riddle, and refused to expel him for killing Myrtle and Tom had become Voldemort. He had thought there was good in Petunia Evans, and that she would love Harry like her own, but instead Harry was now in the possession of the Erlking. He had thought the lack of Death Eater attacks signalled some form of mercy, or kindness, or defeat on Voldemort’s part – but it seemed, that once again, he had thought a monster to be a man.

“The Weasley family were all murdered in their home two nights ago. I only found out this morning.” There was immediate uproar. Everyone shouted to one another, denying it, begging for some reprieve from Voldemort’s evils. “Settle down!” Albus called and they all fell silent. One or two sniffled, or rubbed at their eyes angrily. “I was meant to meet with Arthur yesterday, I just figured he was running late. So, I owled him. When he hadn’t returned my owl this morning, I went to the Burrow. The Dark Mark floated above the home, and Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy even, Fred and George were dead within.” By this point, people were openly crying, leaning on one another for support.

He continued, “Fleur was still alive. I tried to ask her what had happened, but all she’d say was she was a Veela. She’s in the St. Mungos mental trauma ward now. I believe she’ll make a full recovery in time. Ron and Hermione were no where to be found.”

“And with Ginny having already been killed, oh Merlin!” Minerva McGonagall sighed, tears on her cheeks. “That poor family.”

“I know, my dear, I know.” He patted her on the shoulder. She was sat at his left, while Severus was at his right. The dark haired man frowned. Slaughtering an entire family wasn’t unheard of. The Dark Lord had done it often before his first defeat. Severus smirked, behind his hand of course, and wondered how long it would take them to realize that Voldemort hadn’t been the death of those particular Weasleys?

“Of course, it is rather odd. None of them seemed to have been killed by the Unforgivables. They were tortured, make no mistake, but it seemed more primitive, barbarian. Far too Muggle to suit Voldemort’s tastes. Maybe-” He cut himself off, staring at the wall above Severus’ head. “I doubt it.” He mumbled to himself, “it can’t be.”

“What Albus?” Nymphandora Tonks cried out, leaning forward in her chair. Her face was sallow and her hair a dull, limp brown. She had never quite gotten over the disappearance of Remus Lupin.

“I do believe the Erlking may have joined forces with Voldemort. Many of the family seemed to have suffered the Kiss, but the Aurors found no magical trace that there were dementors there that night. Extraordinary.” He murmured. Minerva gave him a withering glance.

“Extraordinary? Albus!” Minerva glared at him. “People are dead, this is no time for you to be so- so-!” She threw her hands in the air with a sigh, before folding them across her chest. “Honestly,” she huffed, more to herself than to Albus.

“If, just pretend, that the Erlking and Voldemort have joined sides, that means that Harry would be wherever Voldemort is.” Every pair of eyes at that table turned to look at Severus. The dark haired man suppressed a roll of his own eyes.

“Albus,” he drawled. “You know full well that I am not as highly esteemed as I once was. It would be ludicrous to assume that I could waltz into the Dark Lord’s hideout and demand an audience with Potter.” He paused, and faked a frown, “assuming that Lily’s son is even alive!” People gasped, and Severus really frowned. Certain words seemed to have that affect on the Wizards and Witches he associated with at these meetings. Words like ‘alive’, ‘dead’, ‘murdered’, they all seemed to crush the little hope remaining within the weak willed members of the Order and Severus clenched his fists by his side in annoyance. “If he is alive, I will see what can be done. Lucius still trusts me, and he is far more favoured by the Dark Lord than I.”

“Very good Severus.” Dumbledore sighed. And they moved on to other matters.

The bodies of the four Gryffindor’s, lying in their beds at Hogwarts as if sleeping, wouldn’t be found for another two days during a routine inspection by the Minister for Education. Ironically enough, the Minister was one of the Death Eaters that placed them in their beds – but he was convincing enough in his surprise and horror.

To say the Order members were upset would be an understatement. But fortunately for them, one could say, they did not have to face the grieving wrath of Molly Weasley (because she was already dead).

XXX

Same time.

Harry hummed quietly to himself as he ran his fingers across the faces of the portraits he passed. Many of them sneered at him, one or two even stuck their tongues out, trying to lick him, and then there were those that quickly succumbed to his siren song and began to sway side to side, their eyes glazed, before falling to a heap in their frames. Harry giggled lightly. He stopped humming and looked up to greet the approaching Wizard.

“Hello Lord Voldemort,” he gave a very slight bow, more of a nod of the head really. Voldemort returned the gesture but didn’t speak. “I have been here almost two days and I have yet to see this surprise of mine. You I have been surprise to be allowed to roam free, perhaps?” His voice was void of emotion, but his eyes sparkled in amusement, which inclined Voldemort to believe the boy was teasing him.

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment though before he realized this. He was not used to people making jokes around him. “You’ll gift is not quite ready. He was-”

“It is alive?” Hurry butted in, eyes widening.

“Yes, human. He was unwell, but he is slowly recovering. In time, you may receive him.” Harry tilted his head to one side, and hummed in thought. Voldemort actually felt the noise reach out and caress his groin. With a cough, he shifted his robes to hide the slightly embarrassing problem.

Harry smirked as he caught the movement. As a succubus, he had grown used to people doing that in his presence. “I can hunt for myself thank you, but I appreciate the concern.”

Voldemort’s face went completely blank for a moment before he began to chuckle. It was faint at first, and Harry frowned as he heard it. But as Voldemort’s laugh got louder, Harry’s confusion turned to annoyance, then finally anger. He had completely misinterpreted Voldemort’s amusement. “If you find my skills so abysmal perhaps my being in your possession will not please you at all, and you should just let me leave?”

“No, no!” He said in reply, calming himself quickly. “I was not laughing at your comment. This gift, the human, he is not for you to eat. He’s your godfather.”

“My godfather.” Harry’s voice was quiet, and Voldemort could see, for the first time since he had set eyes on the boy, a hint of vulnerability on Harry’s face. “Do you think he’ll like me?”

“You’re all he has spoken of since he woke.” Voldemort said with the utmost sincerity, a soft smile on his usually angry mouth.

Harry blinked. “He’s awake?”

“Awake, but not fully healed. He was in prison.” Harry nodded. “I suppose you want to see him now?”

“I’d rather not wait,” he blushed, very lightly, and Voldemort couldn’t help but point out how alluring the shade was on Harry’s pale cheeks. The blush darkened.

“This way then.”

Harry hummed as he followed his new Lord through the winding hallways of Malfoy Manor, his fingers continued to brush off of the portraits as they passed. As they neared the guest wing, Voldemort turned his head to the side, calling over his shoulder, “stop that.” Harry’s humming ceased and he smirked, eyeing the arse of the Wizard in front of him as Voldemort tugged at the front of his robes again. “In here. Bear in mind, beloved, that this man has been locked up for fifteen years. He won’t be much to look at.”

“But he’s family, right?” Harry asked softly as Voldemort opened the door.

Before the Dark Lord could answer, a hoarse voice called out, “Harry? Is that you?” Hushed whispering followed, along with a “sounds like James did at that age,” spoken by the same person before he was shushed.

“Hello Remus.” Harry allowed Voldemort to hold the door open for him as he walked into the room. The door closed behind them, and Voldemort propelled Harry forward with a hand on the base of his spine. Harry smiled at the gesture but didn’t protest it. “You must be my godfather. I am Faun, but every one seems to prefer Harry.”

“It’s your name,” Sirius Black pointed out, as Remus helped him sit up in the bed.

“But I am Faun.” He smirked, his head to one side, eyes bright. “Nice to meet you.” He held a hand out, and walked forward. Sirius grasped it, and instead of shaking it, he held it tight, squeezing it, before letting it go reluctantly. Voldemort’s hand on Harry’s arm was probably the only reason Sirius let go.

Sirius was gaunt looking; his skin was so pale it had almost gone yellow from the lack of sun light. His eyes were sunken and his cheeks hollow, but the grey of his eyes still shined as they settled on Harry’s pale beautiful face. His hair was shoulder length, freshly cut, but still ragged and frizzy. His face was clean-shaven, but Harry doubted he had looked like that a few days ago. He was covered up to his chest by a thick blanket, but what Harry could see of the man’s throat and torso led him to believe that he was half-starved. The boy sympathised. Before the Erlking, he had been as hungry, as gaunt looking, as well.

“The pleasure, I assure you, is all mine.” His hand reached out again, and Harry shot Voldemort a frown. Voldemort’s hand withdrew from Harry’s arm, and Harry allowed the elder Wizard to pull him onto the bed and into a hug. “Look at you. So grown up. And so pretty. What would James say?”

“I do not know. He is dead.” Harry said casually, never having been taught that some things, like death, were taboo for normal human discussions. Sirius flinched, and shot Voldemort a wary but angry glance.

“Right,” Remus cut in, understanding how Harry had been raised, “what say you come have dinner in Sirius’ room tonight?” Harry nodded, not attempting to garner Voldemort’s permission, but both Sirius and Remus looked towards the Dark Lord first.

“Maybe you should ask first Harry.” Sirius suggested. Having been raised by Purebloods he was well aware of how to treat those more powerful than oneself – with reverence – even if he was a Gryffindor.

“I am sure the Malfoys would not mine. I believe I make them uncomfortable.” He frowned as everyone frowned at him. “Sorry, should I not ask the Malfoys? Is it not their home?” He turned to Voldemort with a frown. While Sirius and Remus were fooled, the Dark Lord knew, he just knew, that Harry was purposely trying to irritate him. He had done the same the night before when Voldemort had led them to the same bedroom – and therefore, the same bed.

Voldemort scowled but didn’t decline permission. The point of rescuing Black from Azkaban was to impress Harry, to introduce the boy to a member of the family Voldemort himself had destroyed. If he banned Harry from seeing Black, there would have been no point breaking into the prison.

“Great!” Harry chirped, obviously knowing he had won that round. “So, how come you were in prison?”

Sirius blinked. “How much do you know about how your parents died?”

“They died. They’re dead. What is there to know? In death, reason is meaningless.” Sirius and Voldemort both sighed. Remus just gave a small smile; he had tried, numerous times, to tell Harry about his parents’ deaths. At first, Harry would only insist they had died in a car crash, but then eventually he believed that they were killed by a Wizard, but he hadn’t cared to learn who. By the time Remus had worked up the nerve to force Harry to know, the Erlking had already thought the boy that death was inevitable, and that reasons for death did not matter as long as death occurred. Remus continued to smile as Sirius strived to tell Harry the truth, and Voldemort valiantly defended his own actions, unwilling to be the bad guy in Harry’s opinion. “So,” Harry drawled, unconcerned, as the other two Wizards finished their tale. “That doesn’t make them any less dead.”

XXX

August 3rd 1996.

It was dark, and not very comfortable, but Harry supposed that was to be expected. He was living in a home now, not outside where he was more comfortable, and could bend the elements and the foliage to his will. The floors of Malfoy Manor did not create a bed from itself, like the leaves would do, curling around him as a nest, when Harry wanted them to. Instead, the floor remained unyielding and harsh, and he twisted and turned, groaning in annoyance. He hadn’t slept as badly since he lived in the cupboard under the stairs.

Suddenly a face appeared beside him, upside-down and very vexed looking. “Harry!” Voldemort called, hanging over the side of the bed to see the boy. “I insist that you get out from under there and use the bed like a civilized being.”

“I’m very comfortable here.” The boy insisted, curling in on himself, wishing he had leaves and patches of grass to build a bed from.

“If I have to come down there!” Voldemort warned in a growl. Harry knew it was meant. Voldemort had said the same thing three times already, for the past three nights, and Harry was still under the bed and unharmed. “Honestly Potter. You can’t really be so comfortable.”

“I am,” he hissed, eyes narrowing at the face.

Voldemort swung himself back up, snuggling down into the pillows. “Fine.” He huffed. “I’m much too comfortable to move, myself, or I’d make good on my threat.” Harry snorted. “Stay there, be a child-”

“I am a child.”

The comment was ignored. “-be comfortable, I know I will be.” With that he closed his eyes and feigned sleep. Harry sighed, still shifting from one side to the other. He really didn’t like the floor, but he honestly couldn’t be expected to just allow the other Wizard to take advantage of him so easily. Even the Erlking had allowed him four years of sleeping with Genetrix before bringing Harry into his own furs. Voldemort hadn’t given him four weeks, never mind four days! He growled, listening to Voldemort’s easy breathing, before caving with a sigh.

Voldemort tried not to let the smirk show on his face, less Harry realize he was still awake, but he almost couldn’t help it. The bed dipped as Harry slid onto his side, lying on top of the duvet. Harry was practically clinging to the edge of the bed, and with a mental chuckle, Voldemort shifted over, as if rolling in his sleep, and pressed himself against Harry’s side. Harry gave a yelp, but, fortunately for his ego, he managed not to fall out of the bed. Voldemort, it seemed, won that battle of wills.

Or maybe not.

When he woke the next morning, he was curled around Harry’s pillow on Harry’s side of the bed. When he looked under the bed, Harry wasn’t there. But he was curled up, asleep, on top of the wardrobe. Voldemort pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

XXX

August 8th 1996.

Draco hadn’t really been allowed to spend much time with the other Death Eaters. Even though he was soon to receive the mark, his parents didn’t really trust their son’s safety to a group of murderers, desite that they were Death Eaters themselves. And after watching Faun in action they were even less inclined to leave Draco alone with Harry. But being told what to do had always, always, always made Draco want to do the opposite.

“Hey!” The blond haired boy called, waving his hands over his head. He was walking through the forest that surrounded his home. He had been certain that he had seen Harry come out here minutes before. It was evening, the sky was clear, and the moon would be full when it rose. With a shudder, Draco kept in mind the need to be inside before then – especially with Fenrir Greyback having joined the Dark Lord.

“Harry?” He tried again, before frowning as he realized the dark haired boy was a man, and not Harry. He stifled a gasp, as out of the trees came a fawn, half the size of Draco. “Oh, hello, aren’t you pretty.” His hand came out to pet the creature. His eyes widened at the faint white marking on the fawn’s forehead, in the shape of a lightening bolt.

Even as he petted the fawn, it began to change. “You were looking for me?” Harry asked, fully human, and naked. Draco blushed. With a wave of his hand, Harry was dressed in a pair of doeskin trousers. He was still bare footed and shirtless, which was enough to keep the blush on Draco’s face. His friends had been right; the boy really was beautiful.

“You know, you really need some Wizarding clothes.”

“I’ve been here a week, and have never been allowed out of the Manor.” He said softly, running his eyes over Draco. “I admit your clothes are nice. But they must be very restricting. I prefer to wear near nothing.”

“Uh?” was all he could manage. “Hey,” he said remembering why he had followed Harry. “Do you want to play Quidditch?”

“The game on the brooms?”

Draco’s face was incredulous as he asked, “you’ve never played Quidditch?” A click of his fingers later and a house elf had brought two brooms, and a chest to the field. “Help me carry this to the Quidditch pitch. We have our own one, of course,” he bragged as Harry lifted the chest easily, and Draco took the brooms, “it’s not as large as the one at Hogwarts,” he admitted grudgingly. “That’s only because there are Muggles living over that way!” He pointed south. “We tried to get them to sell up, but they refused. Can you imagine? Refusing a Malfoy!” He snorted and set the brooms down.

Harry left the trunk beside the brooms. “How do we play?”

“Well, usually,” he explain, in minute detail that gave Harry a headache, every aspect of playing and watching Quidditch. Draco even went as far as to by-play every match he had played in at Hogwarts. “You would have been good I bet. Your father was a Seeker.” Harry just nodded. “That’s what we’ll do, of course. We haven’t enough people to play a full game, but we can have a one-on-one Seeker match.”

“You’ll release the small golden ball and we chase it?” Draco nodded and handed Harry the broom.

“Up,” he said, and his own broom shot off the ground and into his hand. He mounted it and was up in the air seconds later. Harry copied him, and lifted off the ground with ease. “Ready? One three,” he counted, “one, two,” and released the snitch which immediately flew off. Harry knew the other boy was going to cheat, so he was ready to fly by the count of ‘one’.

It took them three hours to catch the snitch, because it kept flying into the forest, and the boys kept getting their hair snagged on branches. Or in Draco’s case, more so than Harry’s, they got their clothes caught as well. “See, restrictive, like I said.” Harry muttered as he turned the snitch over in his palm. “I win then?”

They put their brooms on the floor and stood beside each other silently for a moment. “Wow,” Draco breathed, for once not bothered about losing. “I really wished you were at Hogwarts. No one, on any of the opposition teams, none of them are as good as you.”

“Want to go again?” Harry asked, preparing to let the fluttering ball go.

A howl cut off Draco’s words. His face paled, his hand flew to his pocket, searching for his wand before remembering he had left it in the library when he caught sight of Harry on the grounds. He gulped. “Do you have your wand?”

“I do not have a wand.”

With a slightly hysterical laugh Draco choked out, “we need to get you one of those, and clothes. You need clothes too.” He chuckled nervously, pressing against Harry, who seemed completely relaxed.

Harry had, after all, grown up around Remus who was a werewolf. A werewolf who roamed free with the Hunt during the full moon, and who had never injured Harry, not once.

“Calm down,” he whispered, rubbing the blond’s arm. “Do you want to go inside?” Harry shivered lightly, and the cloak of dragon skin appeared around him, shielding his neck and shoulders.

Harry took Draco by the elbow, ignoring the Quidditch supplies and began to steer the boy towards the Manor – which was still a good ten minutes walk away from the pitch.

Two shapes moved in the trees, before stepping onto the pitch. Draco’s hands flew to his mouth as he tried to stifle a scream, but he couldn’t quite contain it. It squeezed its way out of his throat and between his fingers, sounding more like the cry of a dying animal than a frightened boy. His breathing increased and he pressed closer to Harry. The brunette frowned at him. “Why are you so afraid.” He didn’t seem to even notice the two very large werewolves coming towards him.

“Werewolves,” Draco hissed, “two of them.”

“Five actually. There are three behind us.” Draco whirled around, losing his balance and landing on his arse with a grunt. He scuttled backwards, freezing up as he felt the hot, fetid breath on the back of his neck.

“Oh please, please, please,” he whispered to himself, trying to crawl forward without setting the werewolf off.

Harry stepped towards him; a hand lay on Draco’s head. Draco tried to focus on the fingers running through his hair, instead of the gruesome death that awaited him. Harry’s eyes fixed on the werewolf behind Draco and he smirked.

“Hello Fenrir.” His free hand pulled a broad sword seemingly from thin air, as a thick fog began to swirl around his ankles. At the sight of the fog, Fenrir lay down at Harry’s feet, followed by the four other pack-mates. The largest wolf whined pathetically until the sword disappeared from Harry’s hand. He reached out with that hand to pet Fenrir lightly, stroking his nose.

When the adult Malfoys realized that Draco was missing, and Severus and Voldemort couldn’t find Harry either, they had begun searching the grounds. Sirius, who was much better, went in the lead. As an animagus his sense of smells was better than theirs combined. When they arrived at the Quidditch pitch the first thing they noticed was Harry, fast asleep on the ground, a ring of leaves and flowers surrounding him like a nest. Next, they noticed Draco. The blond was sitting almost on top of Harry, pale and shaking, with tears dried on his face. Voldemort was almost jealous – for one brief moment, before his eyes landed on the pack of werewolves.

Where there had been five, it had soon grown. All of Fenrir’s pack, which was thirty strong, now surrounded the nest of leaves. They each had come searching, having felt the Erlking or a Hunter – for werewolves were not usually hunted, but recruited. Instead they had found the beloved and a blond boy, who seemed to be in the protection of one they all chose to serve. So the blond had been spared, and they had lain beside the trembling lamb, waiting for their master to awaken.

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed, and Narcissa let out a terrified gasp as she tried to run towards her son. Severus had paled and hastily took several steps backwards. His biggest fear, for as long as he could remember, had always been werewolves – and it had only been made worse by the stupid prank Black had played on him in Hogwarts. Lucius’ arms around Narcissa’s waist kept her back. Sirius began to whine, and one or two of the werewolves echoed it, knowing that the Grim was worried for the beloved, just as they were.

“Fenrir!” Voldemort shouted, and the largest wolf, the one sat closest to the nest, fluidly rose to his paws. “Come here.” He ordered. He had never seen Harry interact with other magical creatures, and he had no idea that werewolves followed the Hunt obediently. The wolves understood that they posed no threat to Harry, and Harry understood that. But the adults didn’t. And, despite being reassured plenty of times by Harry before he fell asleep, Draco still didn’t believe it. The blond was just waiting to be set upon, but he was much too frightened to think of running away either.

Fenrir did not move. Instead he looked down at Harry and whined. Sirius turned back into a human, but he had transfigured himself with his clothes on at least. “He isn’t going to hurt Harry.” The animagus said in awe. “They’re protecting him.”

The Malfoys could easily believe that the creature who once belonged to the Erlking held some sort of sway over the beasts, but that didn’t mean they trusted their son to them. The two Malfoys, and Severus, all similarly terrified, spent the rest of the night with their wands pointed at the werewolves. Sirius changed back into a Grim, and began to search for Mooney. Having found Remus’ wolf, Padfoot lay down beside him and went to sleep.

Voldemort spent most of the night shouting orders at the wolves that were wilfully ignoring him. He frowned, wondering if the blatant disregard for his command meant that Harry had just scored another point in their silent battle.

When the moon set, the werewolves simultaneously groaned in pain, their bodies shifting and their bones grinding together as their forms changed to look human once more. Harry yawned, and stretched, making Draco jump as he was hit in the stomach. Harry blinked up at the boy and smiled. “Sleep well?” Draco just scowled at him, feeling much more secure now that he wasn’t surrounded by ravenous wolves. “That was the best nights sleep I’ve had in ages.”

“Speak for yourself, Potter.” Draco snarled as he stood up, quickly making his way through the sea of naked bodies and into his mother’s arms.

“What bit him on the arse?” Harry grumbled as his eyes settled on Remus and Sirius. He offered Remus his cloak, which the man gratefully accepted.

“What could have bitten him is probably the problem.” Sirius snorted, chuckling.

Harry scoffed. “Course not. I told him he’d be fine.” Severus looked at Lucius, incredulous, as Harry brushed the matter aside. “Why would I lie?”

“Not that you’d lie, Cub,” Remus whispered, trying to work out the crick in his neck, “more that he has no reason to believe Greyback would not attack him. He’s never seen you around our kind.”

“My kind and your kind have always co-existed.” Fenrir’s voice was deep and husky and Harry shuddered as it caressed his ears. “It has been far too long, Cub.”

“I am not a cub.” He snarled, eyes narrowing as he turned to face the naked, silver haired man.

“At least you aren’t the Omega.” Harry shrugged in agreement, as Fenrir shuddered at the very thought. “Who would want to hurt such a pretty boy anyway?”

“Uh, people like you?”

Fenrir chuckled, clicking his tongue. “Touché.” He paused, “but, true.” His arms swung at his side as he kept pace with Harry, both of them walking towards Malfoy Manor, neither of them concerned about Fenrir’s complete state of nudity. The other Wizards, and one Witch, watched with wide eyes as Harry chatted amiably with the vicious werewolf.

There eyes all turned to Remus. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t know they knew each other!”

“We don’t!” Fenrir called back, “but he is the beloved boy, is he not?” Apparently, that was supposed to explain everything.

Don’t forget, that the Erlking was able to read the minds and fears and desires of any creature he passed, and that ability had been passed down to his beloved. As such, Harry knew every secrets and detail about Fenrir Greyback. And Fenrir knew, that this young man, the beautiful boy before him, was a member of the Hunt, and that was enough to garner the wolf’s respect, and fear.

The others followed them inside, as the rest of the pack woke up and went in search of breakfast and clothing. The entire way to the dining room, Voldemort’s eyes strayed from Fenrir, to Harry, and back again, eyeing them suspiciously. The Alpha wolf treated the smaller male as an equal, if not a superior, but Voldemort was pleased to see that he didn’t see Harry as a potential mate.

With a growl, Voldemort took his seat, pulling Harry into his lap. “You’ll sleep in the bed tonight, yes?” His narrowed eyes met Harry’s wide ones.

“Ok,” he agreed amicably. Voldemort gave a nod, feeling much happier when people followed his orders. “And you can sleep under the bed.” Voldemort growled. “Or on the wardrobe, if you’d rather?” Harry chuckled lightly, remaining in Voldemort’s lap, even as the Dark Lord’s fingers began to bite into his waist, the knuckles turning white. Figuring he had angered the man enough for that morning, Harry generously allowed Voldemort to eat off of the same plate as him – Voldemort’s.

Severus smirked to himself. He was there on Dumbledore’s orders, so he wouldn’t be missed, which meant he had all the time in the world to get to know Lily’s son and to watch the child torment the Dark Lord. After finding the Gryffindor’s dead in Hogwarts Severus had been ordered to do whatever he had to, as long as it got him back in Voldemort’s good graces, and closer to rescuing Harry.

Severus didn’t think Harry needed rescuing. If he were honest with himself, and not just being overly protective of his Lily’s son, he would have to say that if anyone needed protecting, it was Voldemort.

XXX

* * *

Anyway, please review… I wanna see if I can get more reviews for this than I got for Wolf (411) so, help me out? :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter.