Better Than Cookies {COMPLETE}

A/N: Sorry I was late. I spent most of the week catching up with family in town for the holiday. This chapter is a bit shorter than the past few since my mind was on how much BBQ I could stuff in my mouth at once rather than writing hot fanfic. Even so, BBQ was consumed in mass quantities and now I can get back to the important stuff. Mainly, writing hot fanfic. Ah, question for my readers. Is the story getting too complicated? I recently noticed it's getting quite twisty. Anyway, let me know your opinions. Enjoy the chapter.

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In the northeast corner of Norway, Dumbledore’s letter flew from a blackened fireplace. It flutter weakly before landing on a heavy wooden table in front of a hunched behemoth. Intense eyes of charcoal grey rose from a massive tankard to fix on the relatively small envelope with interest. The head, covered in a tangled mane of tawny hair, tipped almost innocently in curiosity.

“Hurged, what is that you have there?” A woman, petite next to the blonde half giant, sauntered across the room to the edge of the tall table. Peering at it suspiciously, she sniffed once before reaching out to touch it.

“Mine.” The word was growled in a low, dangerous tone mere seconds before a palm the size of a dinner plate slammed down on hers.

The air filled with high-pitched screams as the impact shattered the small bones of her hand. Through the noise, the man’s eyes stayed flat and lifeless, only the smile tugging at his lips hinted at his inner amusement. He watched her crumple to the ground, mewling like a wounded dog, her eyes fixed on him in terror. He gave her one last dismissive look before picking up the blood-speckled envelope from the table. He eyes flew across the page until at the bottom, he smiled widely.

“Harry Potter,” he snarled with obvious relish.

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Voldemort stood in the study with his back to the room while he looked out over the perfectly manicured lawns of Malfoy Manor. The sun dappled the flower bed in his direct line of sight but he saw nothing past his own reflection in the glass. The brief moments he had spent with Harry were like an acidic burn in his soul. The memory of his face as he lay curled in the center of their bonding bed, peaceful as he had never seen him, played over and over like a pensieve memory in his mind. His hands unconsciously curled into fists when once again his mind hit upon a brick wall where the bond with Harry should have been.

“My Lord?”

Voldemort ignored the call and the wave of annoyance mixed with concern he felt through the bond. His eyes narrowed into slits when the caller mentally knocked in an attempt to get his attention.

“My Lord?” The person whispered from only a few feet away.

“What is it,” Voldemort finally roared furiously. “Why must you pester me so? Do you not have work to do? Do you not have plans that better need your attention?” He whipped around and, wand pointed directly and Lucius’ throat, stalked toward him, a dangerous glint in his eye. “While you are hovering over me like some nursemaid, Harry is with the Order of the Phoenix.” He spat the last few words as if he couldn’t stomach them. He looked away briefly and swallowed hard, feeling Lucius fear through their bond as his own, unsure if it was from his actions or the thought of Harry with the enemy. He shook his head and slowly lowered his wand. “I want him back, Lucius, and I want him now.” His crimson gaze was filled with pain.

“Yes, My Lord.” Lucius bowed quickly and backed up a few steps. “I wish things had gone differently.” He stared hard at the Dark Lord’s chiseled profile. “We will get him back in time.”

“Yes,” Voldemort whispered fiercely. “Now, go.” He turned back to the window without another glance.

“We will get him back.” At the Dark Lord’s continued silence, Lucius sighed and left the room.

The moment his second in command exited the room, Voldemort bowed his head and grit his teeth. “Harry.”

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Harry sat in the living room of the Order headquarters and attempted to read a book Hermione had lent him. At first the somewhat dark contents of [ Dark Becomes You: Spells to use in Dodgy Situations ] surprised him, but after a few chapters he'd forgotten why it was strange for Hermione to give him a book on dark magic and simply enjoyed reading the controversial text. Suddenly, all the hair stood up on the back of his neck and his body was wracked by a full-body shiver that made him tingle pleasantly.

For the seconds following the odd occurrence, he simply sat in his chair staring at the opposite wall with wide eyes. Then, as if by their own violation, his hands dropped the book and grasped his knees. Heart beating at a frantic pace, he didn’t even hear the loud thud the book made when it hit the thinly carpeted floor. His hands, feeling completely unattached to his brain, slowly slid up the inside of his thighs until they reached what had become a hard, throbbing bulge in his pants. During the brief pause where his hands seemed to be thinking, Harry tried to stand. The effect was a rather nasty tumble from the chair that left him spread eagle on the floor and his hands down his pants.

Harry had to bite back a moan as his hands wrapped around his cock in a familiar but wholly different way from how he normally wanked. It’s almost like it’s someone else. The thought made him gasp and struggle to escape the hands that were now expertly stroking his cock, massaging the sensitive flesh just beyond, and prodding purposely at his entrance. He yelped in panic as his own hands began jerking at his trousers, pulling them down to his ankles to bare him to anyone who happened by. Just as he thought it, one hand released his heavy testicles and began fishing through the pockets of his disposed trousers. Seconds later, his hand had located his wand and thrown up wards as well as a locking spell so complicated Harry doubted he would ever be able to leave the room.

“Argh!” Harry didn’t even think to hold back the sound, as his wand prodded his entrance tentatively before releasing a warm, slick substance. “Oh, God!” The wand slid in an inch before it began to hum, sending shock waves through Harry’s body and making him squeeze his eyes shut as every muscle tensed. In response to his body reaction, his other hand sped up it’s lazy strokes. Moving together, his wand hand thrusting while his other hand rhythmically squeezed and pulled at his cock, Harry was helpless to resist the pull of his orgasm. It hit him hard, squeezing a gasped, “yes”, from him before he arched his back and cried out.

Coming almost violently, his orgasm seemed to last minutes rather than seconds, leaving him wrung out and breathing harshly on the rough carpet. Even with the pleasure thrumming through his veins he felt somehow lacking. He lay still on the floor, his body still twitching from time to time, and stared at the ceiling. When he raised his arm to wipe his forehead it took him a moment to realize he had control over his hands again. Rather than feel glad he felt a twinge of sadness. Probably that dark spell Professor Dumbledore warned me about. Harry nodded to himself and struggled into a sitting position. Well, I’ll be ready next time. He set his jaw stubbornly and started to climb to his feet only to fall back again. “Bollocks.”

Suddenly, the room filled with moans and gasps. Harry jerked back startled before he realized the room was replying the sounds from the last few minutes. He felt his cheeks heat at the volume and neediness of his voice. The noises built up to a crescendo, ending with his wordless cry. Only it wasn’t wordless. Harry froze, stunned, frightened, and finally furious at the single word scream. “Voldemort.”

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Bellatrix stood across the street from the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. However, it’s location hadn’t been a secret since the Inner Circle had bonded with Harry. Bella sneered from the shadows as the daughter of her blood traitor sister walked toward the entrance. A few feet behind her, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, was the thin figure of Remus Lupin. Just as she thought of him, Remus stopped walking and pivoted to look directly at her. Nymphadora continued walking without noticing the silence at her side that marked the absence of her companion.

“No matter.” Bella stepped from her place behind the tree to square up with the werewolf. Her wand flew into her hand at a speed that would have made her Lord proud. “Lupin, this can be easy or this can be hard. It’s your choice.” She moved her wand from hand to hand, keeping her eye on him as he simply stared at her. A stunning spell was on the tip of her tongue when the light witch noticed her presence.

“Lestrange!”

Bella leapt to the side seconds before the tree exploded behind her in a shower of red sparks. “Blood traitor,” she hissed at the pink-haired witch before firing off a shot of orange sparks.

The witch managed to move so just the hem of her robes caught fire. “Better a blood traitor than the Dark Lord’s whore,” she spat before firing another blast.

Bella roared in outrage and fired off a bright green blast. As it sped toward the light witch, Remus finally moved. Racing toward Nymphadora, he threw himself in the path of the killing curse just before it hit. The flash of green faded to reveal his crumpled figure. Bella gasped as a sharp pain speared through her chest making her fall to her knees. Clutching at the front of her robes she looked at the lifeless man in horror.

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“I want you to…escort Remus to Hogwarts.” Dumbledore sat behind his desk in the headmasters office and smiled benignly across the cluttered surface at Severus Snape.

“Escort him?” The potions master raised one dark eyebrow in question. “Should I expect to encounter trouble along the way?”

The twinkle in the headmaster’s eyes increased. “In this dark time, I think it is best to plan for the worst.” His smile quickly disappeared. “I have trusted you thus far, Severus, against the judgment of others. Do not make me out a fool. Understood?”

The pale man nodded once and rose from his chair. “If there is nothing more?” At the headmaster’s dismissive wave, Severus strode from the office. He quickly made his way to his own chambers and to the fireplace that burned day and night in case it should be needed. Extracting a handful of floo power, he stepped into the fireplace and spun away toward Malfoy Manor.

…

“My Lord this recent act of deviousness speaks of the darkness of the headmaster’s plot. If he is trying to murder Harry’s godfather it can only be because he doesn’t want him to interfere in his plans for the boy.” Severus stood perfectly still and watched his lord mull over his news. Finally, the handsome man looked at him again.

“What of the other? You said it was a possibility. With the ability to observe him have you found an answer?” The Dark Lord stared at Severus intently.

Severus nodded. “I have.” He sank down into a chair at the nearby table, gladly sipping the wine that was silently offered and brought by a house elf. “Observing his overwhelming jealousy of Harry’s attention and near attack of my person, I believe it is safe to say he was bonded to Harry and by association your Inner Circle. Remus Lupin is one of your mates.”

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Hermione jerked up from her slumped position in her chair at the sound of a mournful wail from downstairs. The wail quickly escalated into hysterical screaming. “Harry!” Without thinking, she snatched her wand from the bedside table and ran out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time, she hurtled down to the main floor and then followed the voices to the living room. She pushed open the door and gasped.

Harry thrashed wildly in the grip of the Weasley twins. Eyes wide and panicked, he searched the faces of those in the room. When he had looked at each of them he collapsed against the floor in sobs. “Remus, Remus, Remus.”

“How does he know, I didn’t even tell anyone about the attack.”

Hermione looked away from Harry long enough to glance over at Tonks where she was loudly whispering to Arthur Weasley. Her lip curled in disgust and she turned back to Harry who was crying quietly in what appeared to be a bruising grip. Holding her wand at her side, she quickly crossed the room to look down at Fred and George. She gave them a warm smile and glanced at Harry. “I’ll take that if you don’t mind.” As they shoved Harry toward her roughly, she gripped her wand hard enough to make her fingers hurt. “Harry, come with me, alright?”

He tipped his head back slowly, wet green eyes meeting fierce brown. He looked up at her and nodded, taking her offered hand. “He died,” Harry whispered brokenly.

“I know, Harry. It’ll be ok.” Hermione set her jaw and slowly led him from the room, ignoring the stares and hateful looks the Order members sent their way.

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