The Lambs

Here is the next chapter. There is only one left, but it probably won’t be posted until the middle of May. My finals are coming up, and I’m dying at the very thought of doing FIVE university exams. It’s the most I’ve ever had to do at one time, and it’s a complete shock to the system, let me tell you.

I’ll try and update Butterfly tomorrow (no promises) but then I probably won’t be around much, what with all the revision I need to do. So forgive my imminent absence please? Although, to all my favourite authors out there, go update: it’ll help me procrastinate!

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Words: 4,606
Chapter 14
The Dark Order
May 21st 1999.

The sounds coming from Remus’ tent were heart wrenching.

Over the past day Remus had refused continuously to turn back into a human. Even after the moon had first set, he steeled himself against the change, and his grief and his rage made him strong enough to resist. The wolf trembled, crying out loudly, shaking its head violently from side to side if any of the Pack tried to approach him.

Harry sat with his legs pressed against his swollen stomach as he huddled in the corner of the tent. He watched his godfather, his green eyes glassy from crying. Soft whimpers left his own throat; Remus’ pain called to him and he felt the other wolf’s emotions rise up within him as well. He was Pack, they all were. They were meant to share burdens, but Remus wouldn’t let them. Remus wouldn’t let them help. And it was hurting Harry.

Harry had refused to see Fenrir. The Alpha had come back alone long after most of the Pack had returned from looking for Ginny and Bellatrix. Neither had been found yet, but Harry insisted that Fenrir go back out looking. Fenrir had wanted to stay with his pregnant mate, but when the wolf had said as much, Harry had flinched. Listening to Remus howl, as he listened in on the others’ conversation, made Harry’s chest hurt.

It had been raining continuously since the moon had set. Around the time Lily arrived back at Hogwarts, lightening had lit up the sky, and it continued to flash angrily even now. Some of the Pack worried that it might be Harry. His grief, his anger, his hatred could be causing his magic to go out of control, and they feared what that would mean for his pregnancy. But Harry knew he was fine. And the Alpha and the two Betas knew better anyway. While they were worried about Harry, and about Remus, they knew it was Lily’s anger that was lighting up the sky, and not the King’s.

Harry had overheard Charlie talking to Pansy. They had stopped just outside of the tent’s entrance, spoken for a moment as they debated whether or not to enter, and then they had turned away. The Alpha had his own tent, and the two Betas shared theirs with each other and their mates. But Charlie wasn’t quite comfortable bringing his mate into the same tent as Remus, a wolf whose mate had just been murdered. Charlie had been telling the blond about the attack, about all of the previous attacks, and Fenrir’s attempts to kidnap Harry, and about Peter Pettigrew and Lily Potter.

Peter had wanted to kill him. Harry had come to terms with that, and he had gotten over it. Peter was a fool, he always had been, and Harry had never been that fond of him at any rate.

But Lily?

His mother had killed his father! She had murdered the King. But could it really be murder? She hadn’t meant to kill James, it had been a mistake and Harry supposed that he could forgive her for that. After all, everyone made mistakes, and that was something that made you human. Only horrible people would refuse to forgive someone for making a mistake. Lily hadn’t done anything wrong in the months since James death. Harry wanted to think the best of his mother, he wanted to trust and love her as unconditionally as he had done when he was a child. He wanted her to love him again; he wanted them to be a family. But was that possible, now that his father was dead? He had his own child on the way, and a mate who loved him: Harry had his own family now, did he really still need one that couldn’t accept him for who he was?

Lily had been trying to kill Fenrir, and James had sacrificed himself to spare Harry the pain of losing his mate. His father’s death was honourable, noble. If Harry spat in the face of it then it would be like saying that being with Fenrir wasn’t worth it, that Fenrir being his mate and father of his child was worth less than the memory of his father. Not his father. Just the memory of someone who was no longer there, could no longer be there.

Was that fair?

Harry didn’t want to regret his father dying. He had loved the man, and he would always miss him. And he was so grateful to James for finally accepting Fenrir as a part of Harry, and their child, and for allowing Fenrir to continue to live. He owed his father everything for protecting his family.

That didn’t change the fact that his mother had tried to kill his mate. Lily had made it very clear that she wouldn’t be happy with the born werewolf on the throne of Hogwarts. She had tried to kill him before. She would have gone through with it, Harry was almost certain, if only to make sure the baby would die. Harry frowned to himself. Was his mother really capable of joining with a werewolf, something she hated so much, just to get rid of him?

Charlie had told Pansy that he thought he had seen someone else hiding in the trees. He told Pansy, what Bill had told him, about Draco’s dreams of Lily killing Harry and the child. And Charlie had made it very clear that he believed Lily to be helping Ginny and Bellatrix.

Harry couldn’t believe it.

He wouldn’t believe it. Because, despite what Lily had done, she was still his mother. Harry needed to love her, needed to believe the best in her, because that’s what family was meant to do.

Ginny Weasley was another matter though. She wasn’t his family; he had no obligation to her. But Charlie was a member of their pack, and Charlie was Ginny’s brother. He didn’t want to hurt her. They had been friends as children, kind of. Really though, he and Draco and the twins had been friends, and Ginny used to trail along behind them, trying desperately to hold Harry’s hand. Maybe she was in love with him? Or thought she was, at any rate?

Did that justify her trying to kill him? Maybe she wasn’t trying to kill him though; maybe she was on a half-crazed mission of some sort to ‘save’ him from himself? Could he really stand by and let Fenrir kill her? Harry sighed, thinking to himself that death would be the best option available to Ginny, unless she really did manage to escape. If they didn’t find Bellatrix, Fenrir would most likely torture whatever information he could out of the teenage Elemental. Harry wasn’t sure if he could stomach torture, but yes, he finally decided, anyone who tried to harm his Pack deserved nothing short of death.

Ginny Weasley included.

XXX

May 22nd 1999.

Ginny had managed to evade capture for two days. But eventually her luck had run out. Fenrir had found her, hiding at the top of a tree. She had covered herself in mud and leaves, hoping to mask her own scent, and it had worked for a while. But dead leaves smell different from living leaves, and there weren’t that many dead, mud covered leaves up trees. Most of them tended to be littered across the ground.

The whole camp was in an uproar when Fenrir returned, dragging Ginny along behind him by the hair. She screamed and thrashed, flailing desperately as she tried to wriggle free. She clung to the hair closest to her scalp, whimpering as Fenrir pulled on it, ripping strands out y the root. She dug her heels into the ground, trying to slow their progress, but it was no use.

Fenrir threw her forward, and she rolled before landing in a pile beside Remus’ tent.

She pushed her hands into the ground as she lifted herself up, and looked around with wide-eyed terror. With a whimper she jerked away from the tent as the flap opened.

“Harry!” She cried. She dived forward, her arms moving to encircle his waist, wanting to bury her face against his chest and cry. She wanted him to protect her. Fenrir grabbed her by the back of the neck effectively stopping her from reaching Harry. “Help me?” She whispered, her eyes pleading with her King.

“You hurt my family,” Harry whispered back. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, tucking his chin closer to his chest as he looked down on the girl with sadness and pity. He nodded to Fenrir then, giving the Alpha a brief smile, before he went back into the tent.

Fenrir took Harry’s dismissal towards the girl for acceptance of his plans, and with a savage grin he threw Ginny over his shoulder and carried her over towards where the fire was burning. He threw her down in the same spot Nymphandora Tonks had died.

“Whose idea was it?” He asked immediately.

She whimpered but didn’t answer. Fenrir took a threatening step towards her, raising his hand and she cried out with a flinch. “Please don’t hurt me!” She cried, her eyes watering.

“Whose idea was it?” A hoarse voice echoed from behind her. Ginny twisted around on the floor, eyes widening as Remus limped towards her. He was naked, and ragged looking and there was stubble on his chin and rings under his eyes. And he had never looked more vicious. “Who is it I have to kill?”

Fenrir thought about growling, attacking Remus for his sudden surge of authoritativeness in the presence of an Alpha, and then changed his mind. Remus had lost his mate. Fenrir had not. Just this once, Fenrir would let the Beta’s interruptions go unpunished. Instead, he took a step backwards, stopping behind his mate and wrapped both arms around Harry’s waist. Harry leant back into the hard chest, a soft smile on his face as he took comfort in the familiar feel of the other wolf.

When Ginny still wouldn’t stop begging for her life, Remus began to lose his temper. When Ginny wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, Remus began to get violent. By the time Remus was making Ginny scream and squeal and tell him whatever he wanted to know, Harry had his face pressed against Fenrir’s neck and he had his eyes squeezed closed. And even after Ginny was dead, Harry couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

XXX

May 25th 1999.

When Harry had arrived at Hogwarts he couldn’t quite make himself face his mother. So instead he had hidden himself away in the throne room, in the Fold, in his own empty bedroom or in Draco’s home. The blond teenager had spent rather a lot of time in the past two days holding Harry as he slept and running his hand over his future godchild. It would be his godchild, Draco had insisted, after all who else was good enough? Harry had laughed off Draco’s familiar narcissism but had agreed that of all the humans Harry loved, Draco was his first choice.

He knocked lightly. He felt uncomfortable being there alone. Nothing would hurt him inside of Hogwarts, he was sure of that, not even his mother would dare. Hogwarts had always been a safe place for him, no one got hurt there, ever. It was only when you stepped outside of the wall that bad things happened. His parents had always told him that when he was a child and he had believed them absolutely. He hadn’t left the city as a child. He had lived his life enclosed within Hogwarts’ walls, imprisoned, but he had never seen it that way. He had just always considered himself to be safe. Until he grew up and realized that he was suffocating.

He chuckled softly. He supposed his mother had been right. He had been safe in Hogwarts, even with Peter Pettigrew trying to kidnap him out of Godric’s Hollow. It was only when he left the castle, let their grounds and his family, that Fenrir had actually gotten close to him. He had let it happen. He had allowed it to happen. And he would accept full responsibility for that fact. But Harry would be damned if he let harm come to his child because of something he had done in a moment of passion. He didn’t regret being with Fenrir, though he would have liked to have the choice to make for himself. Though he would never regret his baby either.

The door opened slowly, creaking as it moved inwards. Green eyes peered through the gap and widened as they recognized her son.

“Hello Harry,” Lily said as she opened the door more to let Harry inside.

He stopped in the threshold. The room was different. When he had been small he had sometimes climbed into the bed with his parents, enjoying the way they held him close and kept away his nightmares. The room had always been comforting to him, happy and warm. But it had changed. He hadn’t seen it since his father’s death, though he didn’t think that made him a bad son. He had been busy and it wasn’t like Lily invited him to visit her. The room was colder somehow, like James’ absence had leeched the life out of the walls. All of the portraits had been taken down. They lay on the ground, propped against the wall, but they were all facing away from the room as if Lily was ashamed to lay eyes on her husband’s family members. Harry took into account the fact that she had murdered James, and realized, feeling a little slow, that it was probably why she didn’t want to hang the paintings back up.

“How are you Harry?”

“I’m fine.” He answered softly, not quite looking at her.

The room wasn’t as welcoming as he remembered it. All of James’ things were gone, destroyed or hidden Harry wasn’t sure which. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go inside. He didn’t want to change his perception of his parents’ bedroom. He wanted to keep his memories the way they were, when they were all happy together.

“And you?” Harry asked politely.

“I’m very well, sweetheart. Do you want to talk inside?” She opened the door wider, but Harry still didn’t go inside.

“You killed my dad.” Her mouth opened but he raised a hand, silencing her with the gesture. “I know you didn’t mean to. But you did. You were trying to kill my mate.”

“He isn’t good enough for you. You deserve better.”

“I deserve to be happy. Everyone does. He makes me happy. And Tonks made Remus happy.”

“Who is Tonks, dear?” Lily asked, ignoring everything else her son had just said. She was trying to change the subject, hoping to stumble into a conversation that would be less personal to Harry, less volatile for their crumbling relationship.

“She was the person you helped Bellatrix murder.” He waited for her reaction.

When he had left the Pack he was certain Lily would never have helped Bellatrix. Fenrir had disagreed with him. It was unusual that a dominant would argue with a pregnant submissive. Previously, Fenrir had gone along with everything Harry wanted (as long as it didn’t cause Harry harm), and generally just agreed for the sake of keeping Harry from a possible miscarriage. But when Harry had refused to believe Lily capable of something so evil, Fenrir had stopped hedging. He out right told Harry that his mother was a traitorous bitch, and that she needed to be put down like one.

And maybe Fenrir was right? Lily’s face had slackened, her eyes widening, before she became completely expressionless.

“Dearest, was she there when your father died? Otherwise I have no idea how I could be responsible for a death that occurred miles from me.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Harry was certain she was lying. His mother only ever looked so calm when she was lying. He had learnt to recognize the signs when he was a child, though he hadn’t known what they meant at the time. Whenever the topic of leaving Hogwarts, or werewolves, came up Lily’s face would lose all expression, all emotion, and Harry had only just begun to realize the truth. Lily had lied to him all of his life, for his protection. What was to say that she wasn’t still lying, hoping to protect him from Fenrir and his child still?

“I’m not lying, love.” She breathed. She held one hand out to him, but he smacked it aside. Suddenly he couldn’t bear to be touched by her.

“I want you out.” He said as he moved away from her. “Out of my house, out of Hogwarts. I want you as far from me as you can get. I don’t care where you go, but you are going now.”

“What? NO!” She screamed, lunging towards him. “I will not be thrown from my home by a filthy wolf! You will not win!”

“There is nothing to win.” Harry pushed her back. With a click of his fingers, two guards appeared in the hallway and hurriedly grabbed hold of Lily Potter. “There is no war, I won’t allow there to be. I am King, and there is nothing you can do to change that fact, nor will you ever change the fact that my child is a werewolf. I’m sorry that you are unable to live with that.”

She bared her teeth at him and hissed, eyes narrowed. Harry actually flinched. His mother had never looked at him like that, though he supposed many a werewolf had seen that face just before they felt Lily’s blade.

He turned to the guards. “Take her outside of Hogwarts. I will be along shortly. Do not let her back inside until I change the wards.” The guards nodded and dragged her away.

When they were all out of sight, Harry hesitantly entered his father’s old room. He bent down, slowly lowering himself to his knees until he was sitting just in front of the largest canvass in the room. He turned it over, slowly, already knowing what the picture looked like but bracing himself for the sight nonetheless.

It was a family portrait, of just the three of them. Lily and James, looking beautiful and regal and proud, standing side-by-side, smiling directly towards the painter. Standing on a stool, directly between his parents, was Harry Potter. The six-year-old was grinning wildly, looking the opposite to his composed parents, and he was holding James’ sword limply in one hand, and wearing his father’s crown on his head, though it was too big. Harry remembered when this had been painted. James spent most of the time pushing the crown back up, laughing as it slipping immediately back down in front of Harry’s eyes.

He swallowed heavily. They had been so happy once. Harry, being a typical child, didn’t want to wait to grow up, he had wanted to be King then and there and his father had granted his wishes. The portrait had been painted for ‘King Harry’, who was dressed in the King’s customary cloak and crown and the sword that was used at the coronation. His mother had been amused by the whole debacle. She had cooed over he and James both, lamenting the fact that one day James would resign (because she didn’t want to say ‘die’ in front of Harry) before Harry could really be King, but Harry could remember her telling him what a brilliant King he would make.

Many people would have agreed with her now. Though Lily seemed to be of a changed opinion.

A hand fell on his shoulder, but Harry didn’t startle. He had smelt Fenrir as the man turned down the hallway, he had felt him, deep inside, as the familiar presence entered the room, he could even say that he had felt the wolf pass through Hogwarts’ wards.

“Why are you here?” Harry did not expect Fenrir to follow him for at least a day. The things Harry had said, he remembered with a snort, should have been enough to piss the Alpha of for at least that long.

“You should not be alone.” Greyback said softly. He knelt behind his mate, his face resting against the back of Harry’s neck as one hand moved forward to stroke the baby bump.

Harry’s hand ran lightly over James’ painted face, and Fenrir’s free hand took hold of it. Together, they traced the painted people. Harry’s other hand moved to rest on top of the one Fenrir had placed on his abdomen.

“I’m not alone.” Harry told him softly.

XXX

Though Harry hadn’t yet gone through the necessary ritual to banish Lily from Hogwarts – he would have to say he wanted her banished in front of other members of their court, and he would have to say it beside the wall – she didn’t dare try and go back inside. The guards did as they were told, and they waited beside the main gates until she had walked out of sight.

Lily headed into the forest. She wasn’t sure what she would do. She supposed she could always go and live with her sister Petunia, but she had never been all that fond of Petunia’s husband. She could go to Hogsmeade, but didn’t Draco’s mother and aunt live there? Tonks was Draco’s cousin, wasn’t she? Lily thought she remembered something about Andromeda marrying a human named Tonks. It had never seemed that important though: all that had mattered to her in those days were Harry and James and keeping them both away from Fenrir Greyback.

She had failed at both of those objectives. And now she only had one option left. She had to find forgiveness for the crime she had committed against James. After betraying the father, all she could do was save the son. The only way, in her mind, to save Harry was now to kill him.

“Well, well, Lily Potter, all alone in the forest. Imagine the possibilities,” Bellatrix drawled as she stepped out from behind a large fir tree. Her nails dug into the bark, and she dragged herself around, gouging out three long lines in the tree before giggling. “You need my help, and I need your help. We can still help each other.” Bellatrix cajoled. Her heavy lidded eyes were half closed, but she could see Lily perfectly nonetheless.

“We need another plan.”

“Because your last plan worked so well.” Lily went to argue, to claim that if Bellatrix had followed the plan it would have worked, but the werewolf growled, startling Lily into silence. “It matters not. I have a plan B already. Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Lily asked as Bellatrix began to walk away, heading towards Little Whinging.

“It’ll take us a week to get there. But when we arrive, I promise you, it’ll be worth out while.” Bellatrix looked back over her shoulder, and bared all of her teeth in a smile. Lily held back a shudder, clenched her jaw in determination and followed the she-wolf. She had made her bed, and now it seemed she would be sharing it.

XXX

June 1st 1999.

When Lord Voldemort had been on the rise, he had created a pack of devoted followers who enjoyed killing just as much as he had. They called themselves the Death Eaters, though none of them would explain why they had chosen that name. After Voldemort’s defeat at Dumbledore’s hand, the Death Eaters had fled for their lives. Many had been killed in the battle, and in smaller raids before hand, but those that survived tried to escape.

The Lambs were formed shortly after. With King Potter in the lead, they rounded up as many as they could find, capturing the werewolves that had followed Voldemort. They were marked by a brand on their left arms, burnt into their flesh by Voldemort’s own fire element. There was no hiding their allegiance once they had given it. Pansy’s own grandparents and parents had been Death Eaters, as had Lucius’ father. But Abraxas had been lucky enough to die. Pansy’s family was sent into banishment, the males never allowed to set foot in Hogwarts again – but the girls were taken back as babies if another family were willing to care for her.

The others were not so lucky.

They had been sent to Azkaban.

Azkaban was meant to be a prison. In actual fact, it was merely a large hole in the ground, made up of smaller and smaller holes, each of them fitted with a cattle-grid made out of silver to act as a door to the cells. The werewolves that had been captured had been imprisoned within these cells. Azkaban was located in the sea, at the very edge of the country where it was almost impossible to reach.

Fortunately, it had been almost a hundred years since they were all imprisoned and the Elementals had forgotten about the wolves for the most part. There were only a handful of guards present and Bellatrix took care of them quickly. Lily led the way towards the electrified fence that seemed to surround nothing. She touched it, her own element coming into contact with the metal and Lily’s electricity fried the fence, short-circuiting it. Bellatrix tore threw it once there was no more danger of her being harmed. She reached down and tore back the gate that covered the hole in the ground.

The hole was only the width of two people, but it was very deep. Lily shuddered as she thought about how cold and horrid it must be down there. It was underneath the water level for the area, and she wouldn’t be surprised if during high tide the water actually came inshore and drained down into Azkaban.

Werewolves could live for two-hundred-years, so while most of these werewolves would be in their hundreds, Bellatrix had assured her that they would only look to be in their late fifties-early sixties but, after they had rest and decent food for a month or two, they would fight as they had in their prime.

One by one, cell by cell, they freed the Death Eaters.

Lily refused to call herself one of them, refused to become a follower of Lord Voldemort, so Bellatrix suggested they call themselves the Dark Order instead. Lily didn’t like that name any better, but since there would be no one around to hear them use it, it likely didn’t matter much. And it was better than Death Eater.

If she couldn’t be a Lamb, and she wouldn’t be a Wolf, she supposed they would have to call her part of something.

Six hours after they arrived, they were all ready to leave. Lily and Bellatrix looked over the werewolves who had managed to survive a century in Azkaban, and despite herself Lily felt respect for them.

Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Dolohov, Crouch Jr, Jugson and McNaire: ex-Death Eaters, and now members of the Dark Order. They were going to help Bellatrix get Fenrir. They were going to help Lily save Harry from himself and reclaim Hogwarts for her own.

She was the only person she trusted to run things the way James would have wanted.

James needed her to take care of things in his absence.

Lily would do everything she could, everything that she had to do, to make her husband proud of her. It was the least she could do for him, after killing him, after all.

XXX

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