Into The Long Dark

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never will be. All HP characters belong to JK and Warner Brothers, etc, etc, etc. Yuri belongs to me.

The events in this fic take place immediately after Book 6.

Thanks to knightmare for the wonderful beta work!

Sorry about the double post on chapter eight. I thought I fixed it, but, alas I am indeed a moron......Fixed now, though....

Sunday, 10 August 1997


~~~~~~FIFTEEN ~~~~~~~~"IN THE ROUGH"~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Remus crouched down in the heavy underbrush at the edge of the dark forest. Cautiously peering around the trunk of a large tree, he scanned the sun-drenched little hollow. He was still winded from bolting across the road, through the stream, and into the treeline. His senses were screaming at him to run even now, and it took a great deal of control to keep from diving even deeper into the trees. He was drenched from the knees down after his ford of the freezing cold mountain stream. Shaded from the sun, the chill settled once again into his bones. He had caught his breath finally, but now he began to shiver. There was nothing for it but to try to keep calm and still.

A moment later, Remus made out six figures as they crested the rise in the road and began their descent into the hollow. They were walking away from Eisen, in the direction from which Remus had just come. His eyes widened as he recognized the largest of the six. The matted gray hair and mangy whiskers, the too-small black cloak stretched over the powerful shoulders, the huge, paw-like hands. Fenrir Greyback was leading his companions, his nose in the air, sniffing, his head moving from side to side. The next moment, he stopped abruptly, putting out one of his huge hands to halt the others. Remus hunkered down even more, scrunching himself against the tree trunk, holding his breath as Greyback turned his gaze towards the treeline. The older lycan stared directly at Remus' tree for what seemed like an age. Remus could barely contain his urge to flee. Finally, Greyback sniffed the air again, and proceeded down the track, his hand impatiently gesturing for the others to follow.

Shifting his eyes from the hulking werewolf, Remus took in four of the other travelers. These were obviously Death Eaters. It was hard to make them out at this distance, but he was fairly certain that he recognized Antonin Dolohov, while another looked to be Rabastan Lestrange. Squinting through the bright sunlight, Remus studied the other two Death Eaters as they passed by, unable to make out their features. They were young. Very young. There was something very strange about them, though. Remus sensed much more than he should have from the two young Death Eaters. Something malevolent. Dark.

Finally, he turned his attention to the sixth person bringing up the rear of the dark little procession. His blood froze instantly in his veins as he gazed upon that final figure. Clad in all black, walking leisurely along with his hands clasped demurely at his waist, the vampire casually turned his head this way and that, as if he were merely interested in the scenery. His shoulder-length, fire-red hair blazed in the sunlight.

Remus now had to fight the urge to sprint out and attack. The latent instinct to destroy all vampires, a lycan's mortal enemy, was surprisingly strong. Once again Remus just restrained himself, the logic of his human side barely canceling out the wanton blood-lust of his wolf side. And this was a Daywalker. Many vampires could tolerate diffused or clouded daylight for short periods of time. Very few could walk about freely under the blazing sun with no ill effects. They were arguably the most powerful and dangerous of all vampires. And not fifty yards away walked just such a dark creature. The Daywalker strolled along, seemingly detached and bored. As he passed by Remus' tree, the werewolf held his breath when the vampire stared at him for an agonizingly long moment.

Did he smile just the slightest bit?

Then he was past, and the six travelers crested the other end of the hollow and disappeared from Remus' view.

Remaining motionless for many minutes more, Remus finally relaxed, wiping the cold sweat from his face. His breath was still a bit ragged, and he was beginning to shiver again as his adrenaline rush subsided. At least his intense reaction was now fully explained. Greyback, Death Eaters, and a vampire. No wonder Remus had just about jumped out of his skin. Thankful for his heightened lycan senses, Remus scanned the little valley from one end to the other. All was quiet and tranquil. Nothing moved. Feeling exhausted, he was about to step out into the clearing again when a strong hand clamped down onto his shoulder from behind.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The lamps blazed to life the instant the huge oak door creaked open. Harry rushed into the library, clutching the dragonskin-wrapped parcel, Neville barely a step behind. A small fire had blazed to life in the huge hearth. Harry carefully placed the parcel on the large, round mahogany table in the center of the library. He stared at it for a long moment, a hungry smile spreading across his face. The flames from the fireplace were duplicated in miniature in the lenses of his eyeglasses. Neville alternated his gaze from his friend to the blue package on the table and back again.

"A Horcrux? Here? In Grimmauld Place? How did you know?" He reached out to touch the dragonskin, but Harry quickly deflected Neville's hand with his own.

"No, Nev, don't touch it. Not yet." He released Neville's hand. "I had a very good hunch that there was a Horcrux here. Look at this."

Harry turned and walked over to the enormous roll-top desk in the corner of the library. Brushing his hand over the keyhole, there was an audible click, and he slid the top up and into the desk. Neville could see Harry murmuring to himself, and there was another, much smaller click. With that, he opened one of the many small drawers arranged inside the desk. Harry held out a very small, creased piece of parchment.

"Dumbledore and I found this the night he was killed. We found it with the fake Horcrux in the cave. It was left there by whomever took the real Horcrux."

Neville scanned the parchment, his brow furrowing as he read.

"R.A.B.? R.A.B...." He turned his head to look into the fire for a moment, and then snapped quickly back to Harry, his eyes ablaze with enlightenment. "Regulus Black!"

Harry nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. "Regulus Aurelius Black, to be precise, Nev. Sirius' younger brother, and former Death Eater. At least he tried to quit." Harry circled the table, his eyes never leaving the parcel.

"Once I got over the initial shock of Dumbledore's murder, I couldn't stop thinking about that note. About who R.A.B. was. Of course, Hermione researched a list of just about every Wizard ever born with those initials. But for some reason, I kept thinking about Grimmauld Place when I looked at that parchment. Then it hit me. Sirius' brother's name was Regulus."

Neville was deep in thought. "Well, that explains the 'R' and the 'B'. How did you find out what Regulus' middle name was? I thought that it was erased from the tapestry that we took down from the parlor."

Harry nodded. 'Yeah, it was magically erased, along with Sirius' name. And we couldn't restore it, no matter what Remus or I tried. Mrs. Black was a formidable Witch, for sure. And all of the Black Family records have been sealed, by special decree of The Ministry. Even St. Mungo's records had been purged." Harry stopped his pacing.

"And Mrs. Black erased nearly every trace of her sons from this house. But not everything!" Harry spun around and flew back over to the desk, opening one of the large drawers and pulling out a thin hardcover book. He presented it to Neville, who paused a moment before taking it warily, regarding it as if it were a George and Fred product.

Neville held the children's book gingerly. "One Hundred And One Tales for Young Wizards And Witches by Grizelda Hooglebanks? I don't get it."

Harry nodded at the book, smiling. "Open it."

Neville complied, opening the front cover of the musty old book. On the first page, scrawled in pencil, were these words:

This Book belongs to Regulus Aurelius Black, May 1967.

Neville looked up at Harry, a smile finally spreading across his face. "Where on earth did you find this?"

"When I was cleaning out Sirius' bedroom just before I moved into it. I was getting rid of some old, moth-eaten clothes from his wardrobe. I found the book hidden in a false bottom in one of the drawers in the wardrobe. Maybe Sirius copped it when he and Regulus were both kids, hid it in the wardrobe, and forgot about it. How ever it got there, once I found it, I knew it was Regulus that took the real Horcrux from the cave."

Neville's smile faded into a slight frown. "Well, that's well and good, but how did you conclude that Regulus stashed the Horcrux in this house? If I recall correctly, he would have already been disowned by his parents when he lifted it from the cave. It doesn't seem to make sense for him to hide it here...." Harry was shaking his head, waving a hand to cut Neville off.

"I think that it would make perfect sense to hide the Horcrux at Grimmauld Place. It would be the last place anyone would look, that is, once it was noticed to be missing. All Regulus had to do was to sneak into this house, an easy task since he grew up here, and stash the Horcrux. He was most likely on the run, being sought by both the Ministry and his former Death Eater friends. I'll bet Regulus needed to hide the Horcrux quickly, in case he was caught. It was all guesswork, to be sure, but something told me I was on the right track. Even if the Horcrux wasn't here, it made sense to eliminate Grimmauld as a hiding place, since we're here right now anyway."

Neville nodded, pursing his lips. "Yeah, OK, so then you just asked Kreacher to look for it?"

"Yep, and I was searching for it as well. And now, here it is. The Slytherin Locket." Harry was once again standing next to the table, holding his hand just above the surface of the blue dragonskin.

"All we have to do now is to destroy it. And after that, we have only two more to locate." He smiled that evil smile again, and Neville shuddered.

"Two more? I thought there were seven of these things? By my count, two have been destroyed, and this one here would be the third. Riddle has a piece of his soul, so that's four. So doesn't that leave three more Horcruxes to find?" Neville finished, his brow furrowed deeply. Harry smiled at his friend.

"Not exactly. You're right, Nev, two Horcruxes have been destroyed: the diary and Marvolo's ring. The locket will be the third. And Riddle counts as four, OK? Remember I told you about Hepziba Smith? The two items she had that Riddle killed her over?" Neville stared into the fire, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I remember, one was the locket, here, and the other was.....shite, what was it?" He glanced up and locked onto Harry's blazing emerald eyes.

"The cup! Helga Hufflepuff's cup! That's number five, then. So you know where that one is then, yeah?" Harry shook his head, crossing over to Neville and throwing his arm around the taller wizard.

"No, not quite, Nev. One of the missing Horcruxes is the Hufflepuff cup. We don't know where that one is. Yet. Dumbledore was convinced that Riddle has used his snake, Nagini, as another Horcrux. When we find Riddle, we'll find that one as well. That leaves one final Horcrux. We have no idea what or where that one is. That will be the tough one. Remus and I are stumped, for now. But as soon as he gets back, we'll continue the research. After we destroy this locket, that is." Neville stared at the dragonskin parcel for a long moment.

"Do you know how to do that, Harry? Can you? Isn't that how Dumbledore injured his hand, by destroying a Horcrux?" He brushed his fingers across Harry's cheek. The shorter Wizard looked up at him, his eyes far away.

"Yeah, I think I know how it can be destroyed. Remus and I have spent hours researching it. I'm certain both of us can handle it without any real danger. Besides, this sort of Dark Magic is Remus' field of study."

"Well, don't try anything until Remus gets back. No heroics, Potter!" Neville squeezed Harry's shoulder emphatically.

"No worries, Nev. I'm pretty sure Regulus would have wanted whomever found the Horcrux to have easy access to it so that it could ultimately be destroyed."

Harry squeezed Neville's shoulder and released him, moving closer to the table. With a swift motion, Harry ran his hand over the parcel, hovering over it for a moment. He closed his eyes and murmured something. The dragonskin glowed ever so slightly. Harry opened his eyes, murmuring a second incantation. Nothing happened.

Smiling, he reached over and pulled on the heartstring. It came free easily. Harry picked up the parcel and carefully unwrapped the dragonskin, revealing a black wooden box with a brass clasp and hinges. The ebony woodgrain finish shone beautifully in the dancing light from the fireplace. Neville's eyes were wide.

"Harry, I don't think you should be messing with that. Until you're sure ...." His eyes locked onto Harry's.

"I'm sure, Nev." With that, Harry muttered a final incantation, and with a slight motion of his hand, the catch opened with a tiny click. Throwing a mischievous grin at Neville, Harry opened the lid of the box and turned it so that his friend could see.

Nestled on a bed of black velvet, lay the golden locket inscribed with the serpentine 'S' of Slytherin. Neville drew in a quick breath.

"Merlin. It's hard to believe, Harry. In that little locket....."

Harry turned the box so that he could gaze at the locket, its delicate gold chain twinkling in the firelight. The evil grin returned to his features.

"In this little locket is a portion of Riddle's soul. And I'm going to destroy it."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Remus spun away and down from the clamping hand, landing roughly on the dried leaves and twigs littering the forest floor. He was able to draw his wand, pointing it at the figure lunging toward him. He was about to throw the Stupefy Charm when the figure spoke in a loud, urgent whisper.

"Merlin, Moony, put your stick down! And be still!"

Yuri threw himself down right next to Remus, his hand gently pushing down the other werewolf's wand. Remus made to speak, but Yuri put his index finger to Remus' lips. He grimaced, slowly shaking his head from side to side. With a small nod, Yuri motioned to the clearing. Remus turned his head slightly, and could make out a figure walking over the rise, taking a few steps back down the track into the hollow. It was the Daywalker. He was standing there, his shoulders thrown back, his hands planted on his hips. Remus could make out his pale, silvery skin that stood in stark contrast to the blazing red hair. The vampire was scanning the treeline, and once more locked his gaze on where Remus and Yuri were hidden.

A moment later, Greyback slogged up behind the Daywalker, obviously agitated, his mouth working a mile a minute. The vampire simply put up one of his hands, and Greyback's lips stopped moving. The werewolf sniffed the air animatedly, and spoke to the vampire again. Remus didn't need to be a lip reader to know what the old werewolf had said: "I don't smell anything."

The Daywalker paused a moment more before spinning on his heel and striding past a rather agitated Greyback. The old lycan sniffed the air one final time before turning around in a flurry of robes and disappearing behind the rise.

Remus turned to look at Yuri, who was studying the clearing intently. After a few minutes, Yuri nodded and stood up. He offered a hand to Remus and pulled him to his feet. Remus returned his wand to his robes, and as a smile spread across his face, he moved in and hugged the shorter werewolf.

"Forgive me for sounding so cliché, but what in blazes are you doing out here?"

Yuri returned Remus' embrace, moving his hands up to the taller man's shoulders, pushing himself to arm's length. A huge smile broke out across his square jaw.

"Saving your skinny bum, that's what. You very nearly traipsed into the arms of that Daywalker, you know. You're getting soft, Moony. City wolves!" Yuri chuckled, and roughly brushed off Remus' robes.

"Once again, I am in your debt, friend. How shall I ever repay you?" Remus shot his friend a wry smile. Yuri cocked his head to one side and rolled his dark brown eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something." He winked at Remus, and clapped a large hand to his shoulder.

"Right. I think that we had better Apparate to the inn straightaway. If I may?" Yuri offered his elbow to Remus and batted his eyes.
Remus chuckled and accepted the proffered arm.

"Such the gentleman. How can I refuse?"

Yuri wagged his eyebrows, and they both disappeared with a crack.

They reappeared in a small spot of woods just behind The Slaughtered Lamb, the largest inn in the village of Eisen. Remus and Yuri made their way around to the front of the inn, and once inside, Remus selected a secluded table in an alcove, off of the main room of the pub. The building was nearly three hundred years old, rustic, well-used, but clean. A fire crackled in the huge hearth, and large candles burned in their rough-hewn iron sconces. The late afternoon sun shone weakly through the ancient leaded glass panes.

Yuri went to fetch drinks as Remus shed his cloak and caught his breath. There were a few patrons dotted throughout the pub, many of them lycans. Remus exchanged silent greetings with some of them while he waited for Yuri.

Well, I certainly have something to report to The Order now, he thought. He hadn't expected to cross paths with Greyback here in Slovenia, let alone seeing him with Death Eaters, and a Daywalker. This was not a very encouraging development. Remus glanced over at the bar.

Yuri was schmoozing with the buxom barmaid. Always the charmer! As the barmaid filled their order, he turned around, giving Remus another wink. He smiled back at Yuri, unsuccessful in his attempt not to notice how wonderfully tight the other werewolf's jeans were. Remus drew in a shuddery breath as he gave in and allowed himself to drink in his companion's appearance.

Yuri was short, stocky, and broad-shouldered, with a nicely formed barrel chest and large upper arms. Remus noted how his tight sweatshirt accentuated the lovely v-shape of his back. Yuri had an impossibly slim waist and very large, muscular legs. Remus wondered at how some individuals were blessed with such genes. Yuri's deep auburn hair was collar length, and Remus knew that his chest and stomach were covered in a fine dusting of reddish-brown hair. Remus shifted slightly in his seat, attempting to squelch the impending erection that was threatening to break forth in his trousers.

Bloody hell, focus on the task at hand! Focus!

As Remus looked up again, Yuri was striding across the pub, carrying two tankards and a wooden plate filled with smoked meats and cheeses. His bright eyes and winning smile were marred only by the deep, ugly scar that ran from his forehead down the right side of his face to his jawline. It was jagged and raw, the skin still puckered even after all these years. It was common for the scars of lycan attacks to remain fresh looking. It was the nature of the Curse. Remus' hand automatically went to his left shoulder, slowly massaging it.

Yuri had arrived at their table. His sculpted pecs were clearly visible through the fabric of his sweatshirt. Remus took a few deep breaths and pasted on his best fake smile. Yuri plopped the tankards and plate down on the table, straddling his chair with ease.

"Just a little snack, yes?" He grinned at Remus, and grabbed the knife that was sticking out of the wooden plate, slicing chunks of cheese. Remus took a swig from his pewter tankard. The ale was light and somewhat sweet. And delicious.

"All right, Yuri, what's going on? How did you happen to find me at just the right moment?" He grabbed a piece of cheese. Yuri was already on his third piece.

"Well, I made a follow up visit to Peotor. To see if perhaps they had reconsidered your offer to join against Riddle. When I arrived at their camp, I found all of them dead. All of them, Remus. Even the children." Yuri took a long pull on his tankard. He paused a moment to let the news sink in. Remus' eyes were wide. Yuri grabbed a chunk of ham and took a bite.

"It was clear that the clan had been in a parley. Then, something happened, taking them by surprise. How, I do not know. Some of them had been killed by a werewolf. Others showed no outward sign of injury. More than a few had been drained." He took another chunk of cheese and chewed on it thoughtfully. Remus was staring at the table. He was about to speak, when the barmaid arrived with a small loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a white cloth to keep it warm. Yuri looked up at the server, giving her his best winning smile.

"Thank you, Anna." She blushed and swished back over to the bar.

Remus couldn't suppress a small smile. "It's nice to see that some things never change." Yuri nodded, leaning back in his chair. Remus reached under the cloth, tearing out a hunk of warm bread.

"Let me guess. You went straight over to Armand's camp, and found....." Yuri was nodding emphatically.

"I found exactly the same scene at Armand's camp as I did at Peotor's. All dead. All murdered." Yuri drained his mug, and held it up. Remus blew out a deep breath.

"So, both clans that I parleyed with are destroyed immediately thereafter. Why? Neither clan had agreed to join us in our battle against Riddle. They both desired to remain neutral. They weren't a threat to Him." Remus rubbed his chin, turning the puzzle over in his mind. His head snapped up a moment later. "Of course!"

Yuri nodded. "You saw Riddle's delegation. I'm guessing that they have been following your footsteps, attempting to sway the clans to Riddle's side. When the clans refuse, they are eradicated."

Remus nodded, and then his eyes flew wide. Anna arrived with a fresh tankard of ale for each of them. Remus barely noticed.

"Willis! Gods, did you warn Willis?" Remus was about to spring from the table, but Yuri motioned him to sit.

"Once I put two and two together, I Apparated to Willis' camp and warned them. I made sure they were safely on their way to a new location, somewhere far away. Willis told me that you had only just left them, so I was concerned that you might walk straight into trouble. As usual, I was correct. You're lucky I know you so well, friend." Yuri nodded to himself, and took a huge draught of his second ale.

Remus was pale. "All of them. Gone. I just spoke to them. Armand's wife, Lisbeth, she was......." He followed Yuri's example and drained his first mug of ale. Remus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, shaking his head.

"How were they able to surprise a clan of werewolves? They had to have used some sort of occlusive spell. It's the only way. And how would Greyback have known where to go next? How did they follow me so exactly?" Remus rubbed his eyes fitfully, sighing loudly. Yuri took a deep breath.

"Who knows, Remus. You mentioned who you intended to parley with, yes? Probably part of how they found the clans. Remember, they have Greyback and a Daywalker. They would have no problem at all tracking down an entire clan, by scent alone, yes? And I agree that magic was used to conceal their approach. There were five Wizards in the group, after all." Yuri took another drink of his ale. "Do not take this blame, friend. Evil is evil, all on its own."

Remus sighed heavily. He looked up into Yuri's deep brown eyes. They were bright and warm, comforting, knowing. "And we just got lucky back there in the hollow?"

Yuri smiled. "The woods here are full of lycans. The Daywalker sensed something, but they were in haste to their next parley. No doubt they decided that we were merely a couple of loners." He took in the defeated expression of his old friend.

"Yes, indeed we were lucky." Reaching across the small table, Yuri brushed his fingers across Remus' cheek.

Remus looked up, and brought his own hand across the back of the other lycan's, squeezing it and rubbing his thumb across the back of Yuri's hand. Remus moved Yuri's fingers up slightly, gently kissing them. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he seemed to meditate for a microsecond before opening them again and gazing directly into Yuri's.

"Merlin, I should have expected something like this! What was I thinking? I should have been able to prevent this! Bloody Hell." Remus closed his eyes again as he finished. Yuri let out a deep sigh, shaking his head ever so slightly.

'My poor Moony. Always blaming yourself for things that you couldn't possibly have prevented. The fates of others are most often out of our hands, my friend. You must learn to accept that. To let go." Yuri continued to softly stroke the side of Remus' face.

After a moment, Remus sighed again. "Well, I should think about getting back to London."

"Think about it later." Yuri stood up, holding out his hand to the other werewolf. Remus nodded, and rose from his chair, taking Yuri's hand and following him across the common room. Anna gave them a forced smile as they passed her. Yuri led him through the small entrance hall and up the steep staircase leading to the guest rooms. The narrow hallway was dimly lit by candles flickering in their holders, spaced at regular intervals. A single window, set high in the wall at the end of the long hallway, was showing the last hints of reddish, late afternoon sunlight. Yuri stopped at the door to Remus' room, turning to face the taller lycan.

"I will stay with you for a while. If you wish." Yuri reached out and gently lifted Remus' chin up a bit, so that their eyes met. Remus' were the slightest bit misty.

"I'd like that, Yuri. Please?"

Yuri smiled, and gestured to the locked door. Remus fumbled in his robes for the key. After a moment, he offered it to his friend, who took the skeleton key and unlocked the door. Gently placing his hand on Remus' shoulder, Yuri ushered him into the small room. With a wave of his wand, the shorter lycan lit the two oil lamps on the sidetables and set the hearth ablaze with a cozy fire. After locking the door, Yuri moved towards Remus, who was standing in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames.

The stocky werewolf unclasped Remus' cloak, slowly removing it and draping it over a chair. He then stepped behind the taller man, wrapping his strong arms around Remus' torso in a warm embrace, pressing himself against the other werewolf and nuzzling the back of Remus' neck. Remus responded eagerly, arching his neck towards Yuri. He brought his hands up and placed them over Yuri's, drinking in their warmth. Remus felt as one who hadn't eaten a good meal in a fortnight. He knew that he was hungry, but the depth and magnitude of his hunger shocked and amazed him. Taking deep breaths, Remus drank in Yuri's wonderful scent, all at once musky and mossy and fresh.

Yuri gently released his embrace, and turned Remus around to face him. Smiling up at the taller lycan, he planted a chaste kiss on Remus' slightly parted lips. Yuri then unbuttoned Remus' sweater, pulled it off and tossed it onto the chair with his cloak. Guiding him backwards, Yuri sat Remus on the huge, old feather bed. Kneeling down, he untied and removed Remus' shoes. Remus reached over and carded his fingers through Yuri's auburn locks. Standing once again, Yuri smiled up at him, toeing off his boots. He reached over and gently pulled Remus up off of the bed. Yuri pulled on his oxford shirt, untucking it from his trousers. He deftly worked the buttons, and soon it joined Remus' sweater and cloak on the chair.

Yuri ghosted his fingers over the massive scar on Remus' left shoulder, wincing at the tortured, ugly flesh. He began to shower the huge scar with soft kisses, lightly laving the rippled and puckered skin with the tip of his tongue. Remus gasped and bucked slightly at the onslaught upon the sensitive area. He brought his hands up and ran them slowly down Yuri's heavily muscled torso, planting his own kisses upon the top of his friend's head. Yuri chuckled, and shot Remus a wicked smile. His hands swiftly unbuttoned Remus' trousers, sliding them down over his hips. With a gentle motion, the shorter lycan sat Remus down atop the down comforter and quickly pulled his trousers over his feet, sending them to join the rest of his discarded wardrobe.

Remus sat on the bed, wearing only his socks, boxer briefs, and a smile. He watched as Yuri pulled his sweatshirt over his head, revealing his nicely furred, wonderfully muscled chest. With a sly grin, he snapped open his button fly jeans, pushing them down over his hips and past his knees. With a quick and not entirely coordinated hip-hop from one foot to the other, Yuri whipped his jeans across the small room with a flourish.

His engorged, uncut cock bobbed a bit as he moved towards Remus. Leaning down, he planted his lips on his friend's, pushing Remus down into the impossibly soft coverlet. Yuri pressed his erection against Remus' own, and the two werewolves writhed and moved against each other in ecstasy, their tongues exploring each other's mouths with abandon.....

~*~ ~*~

Night had fallen. Nothing but blackness lay behind the leaded stained glass panes of the double window. Yuri raised himself up on his elbows, gazing down at Remus with intense longing.

"How about we get under the covers, eh, Moony?"

Remus nodded blissfully. "Yeah, sure."

After a bit of clumsy maneuvering, both lycans were snug and warm under the bedclothes. Yuri charmed out the oil lamps. The fire had burned down in the hearth, popping and crackling lazily. Remus could make out his friend's face, the deep, brown eyes glittering brightly in the dim firelight, locked onto him. Yuri smiled.

"Whenever you are ready, Moony. I am here." Yuri gave him a final peck on the cheek, and proceeded to snuggle against Remus, burying his face in the crook of Remus' neck, throwing a massive arm across his chest. After a few moments, Yuri's breathing slowed, and his embrace relaxed.

Remus sighed contentedly, enjoying the simple pleasure of just being close to Yuri. Of being close to anyone. It had been so long. He wanted to be ready. Gods, yes, he wanted to be.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Draco threw down his book with a disgusted sigh. A glance to the window confirmed that night was fast approaching. The small patch of sky visible was a blood red, tinged with an almost electric purple, fading ever so gradually into a dark blue-black. Draco could make out the first bright star in the gathering blackness. Sighing again, he drained his glass, the last of the brandy sliding easily down his throat, warming his stomach wonderfully. The fire in the study's hearth was burning low, and it was making the only sounds in Spinner's End at the moment.

It had been hours since Snape left to meet with the Dark Lord. Draco had literally begged to accompany him, but the former Potions Master would hear none of it. At first he had paced the small house like a caged tiger, eventually resigning himself to the situation and retiring to the study with the remaining brandy. Draco had made extensive use of the library on innumerable occasions. There were a multitude of rare books at Spinner's End, and Draco had absorbed a great deal of knowledge during his stay there.

Attempting to focus on his book once more, he read over the same line for the tenth time, seeing only jumbles of letters.

"Shit!"

Jumping up from his squashy armchair, Draco again began pacing the small room, his hands planted on his hips, his mind working a mile a minute. This situation was becoming untenable. Something was wrong. He could sense it.

Draco trusted Snape as much as he was able to trust anyone. While he was certain that Snape would never harm him, or allow harm to come to him, he was also certain that the old bastard wasn't telling him everything. Draco knew that Snape was holding something back.

And then there was Pettigrew. As much as he hated to admit it, the pathetic cretin's words rang true. Draco couldn't get them out of his head. Deep down, he knew that he had failed Riddle. He knew what fate awaited him. But what could he do? Who could he turn to? Wait for Snape? Wait for the Death Eaters to knock on the door? Run to his Mother?

"Fuck!"

One thing was certain. Draco had to get out of Spinner's End. Immediately. He couldn't go to Malfoy Manor. Not only was it being closely watched by The Ministry, his Mother had apparently gone round the bend. Not only was she shagging everything in sight, she had become nothing short of delusional. During their last brunch date, she had talked about nothing but herself, and in the third person, no less.

He would have to find an out of the way place to hide. He would contact Snape after he was settled. He would sort out how to extricate himself from this situation later. Nodding his head, Draco marched into the small bedroom. Opening his trunk, he charmed all of his belongings into it in a matter of seconds. Once closed, he shrank the trunk and placed it in a pocket of his cloak. With a final look around the room, Draco swung the cloak over his shoulders, sticking his wand in the front pocket of his jeans.

As he prepared to Apparate, he caught view of himself in the full length mirror in the corner. Staring at his reflection, a wicked smile graced his features. Drawing his wand, Draco closed his eyes and murmured an incantation, slowly moving his wand up and down his body, finally stopping with it circling over the top of his head. After a moment, Draco stopped chanting and opened his eyes.

Ron Weasley was smiling wickedly back at him from the mirror. Satisfied that his glamour was firmly in place, Draco Apparated with an extra loud crack.

A split second later, Snape shimmered into existence, his invisibility cloak pooling at his feet. With a satisfied smile, he glided into the study, charming the empty brandy bottle full again. Snape filled the glass on the rickety sidetable, and sat down heavily into Draco's still warm chair. Picking up the discarded book from the floor, he began to read, sipping at the brandy.