Fragmented Soul

Chapter 5 - Lost

Severus had put up one hell of a fight. It had taken Dumbledore, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Sirius and Remus to finally stun him. The werewolf had been their only casualty, hit by a rather nasty stunning spell. Severus it seemed had not been aiming to kill or even seriously injure any of them. Albus couldn’t help but wonder when it was that Severus Snape had become so weak minded. The headmaster, having bound the potions master’s hands behind his back and confiscated the man’s wand, left him unconscious in what clearly had been Harry’s bedroom.

It had frustrated them all that there was no sign of Harry anywhere in the house or the surrounding area. Sirius, especially, was furious that Harry hadn’t been here when the Order had finally organised themselves enough to strike. He had seen the young boy go inside. He and Remus had been watching the house all day, there was no way he had left again, they were sure.

Dumbledore and the two Aurors didn’t believe for a moment that they could be positive though; halfway suspecting the couple might have been making out and missed something. No-one knew where it was that he had disappeared off to, or how, and that was what Dumbledore and Sirius were determined to find out; along with a few other things.

Albus Dumbledore sent Tonks and Mad-Eye downstairs to keep watch, just in case Harry was foolish enough to come back. He didn’t want too many witnesses to what was about to happen. This way the two Aurors would have a clear conscience. Remus, who was the only one in the group who might have tried to stop them, was out cold in the hallway. Sirius however was itching to get his hands on old Snivellus, and Dumbledore wanted the answers only Snape could give. He wasn’t above using the delusional fool, Black, to inspire Snape into telling him what he wanted to know.

The two Aurors had things to do in the rest of the house anyway, as they had found a number of rather disturbing things when they had raided the place; including a cage in the basement which the group could only assume Severus had put Harry in when he misbehaved; either that or the potions master had been experimenting on goodness knows what while Harry was in the house. Whatever the purpose it proved he was not fit to be a parent in their minds. What none of them could understand, however, was why it had been made out of pure silver, it seemed like a very odd metal to use.

Remus had not betrayed Harry’s secret to any of them. He remembered what it was like to be a young werewolf, terrified of what others would think. They were here to find Harry, track him down, not expose that he was a werewolf. It wasn’t something that Dumbledore needed to know, not in Remus’ opinion.

As well as the cage, which was cause for concern as it was, they had discovered some questionable potion ingredients within a private store cupboard, ingredients used in the brewing of dark potions they were sure. One of the ingredients in particular worried them considerably. Aconite was a potent substance which was highly poisonous and strictly regulated by the Ministry. It amazed them that Severus had been able to get his hands on so much.

Whatever Severus had been using it for though, didn’t matter to them for the moment as it was now evidence that damned Snape even further. If Remus had been conscious then he could have told them what potion aconite was used for primarily but alas he was not.

Open on the dining table had been a number of textbooks and pieces of parchment, clearly from where young Harry had been studying. Dumbledore had noted that the subjects had not exactly been on the Hogwarts approval list for fifteen year olds. He would have considered some of the information and books to be inappropriate for even some of the seventh years he taught at Hogwarts. It seemed that Severus had not been sticking to the recommended list of subjects and it made the headmaster wonder what else Snape had been teaching Harry while he was young and impressionable.

They would get all of the answers they were looking for, however. Albus had chosen his interrogation room with strategic genius, to ensure they were able to extract everything they needed from the wanted man before doing what was necessary to deal with him. Severus Snape might survive the night, or he might not, but he would spill his secrets either way. Occlumency would be no use with him as Snape was a master of the art himself but there were other ways to make people talk than resorting to mind reading and potions.

Sirius couldn’t help himself; he walked around Snape’s motionless body, surveying Harry’s bedroom. He wanted to know the boy, he wanted to know his Godson. Judging by the firebolt in the corner of the room and Quidditch posters upon his walls he could tell that Harry, just like James, must love to fly. Sirius could remember a tiny little Harry, wide eyed in amazement and wonder as he rode his first ever broom in the back garden at Godrics Hollow at the tender age of one. He had bought it for Harry’s first birthday; he just hadn’t been able to resist.

He recalled how disapproving Lily had been to have her one year old son on a broom already but also how much Harry had loved it, he could still remember the excited giggles as the little boy had hovered just above the ground. Just like James, Sirius thought fondly. He smiled when he saw a clear favourite in his preference towards a Quidditch team. The Appleby Arrows, just like he and James had supported in their youth. Like father, like son.

The bedding was a deep hunter green but Snape must have picked them out for Harry, Sirius thought, disregarded it entirely. His attention caught by the golden snitch on the bedside table, perched on a specially made stand of red. Gryffindor colours, Sirius noted proudly, Harry’s true nature shining through despite what the greasy git had tried to drill into him throughout the many years he had held him captive.

That was what had happened in Sirius’ mind; Snape had taken Harry away from the people who loved him and cared about him; Harry had been taken away from him. Next to the snitch was a framed photograph; it showed Harry smiling and messing about, clearly play fighting quite energetically with another young boy, who Sirius thought might have been the other teen they had seen before. Both of them looking like they were having a little too much fun; it reminded Sirius of how he and James had been together when they were younger. Oh yes, Harry was a true Gryffindor no matter what Severus Snape had done to him, Sirius was sure of it.

Dumbledore surveyed Sirius with interest, watching as he moved around the teenager’s bedroom, taking everything in. The convict was going to be the perfect tool for interrogating Snape. Their bitter rivalry from their school days would have been good enough, but Black’s righteous anger at his old rival for stealing away with his Godson was just too perfect for what he had in mind.

The headmaster cast a cold glance down to the still unconscious potions master. They needed answers now, they didn’t have time to wait any longer for Severus to decided to re-join them on his own accord. With a wave of his wand, and a muttered incantation, Severus’ eyes snapped open and the potions master gasped for breath, immediately struggling frantically against the bonds that bound his wrists behind his back. Albus chuckled at the sight of him so desperate, he had seen this look on his face once before, when Snape had begged for Lily, James and Harry to be protected from Voldemort.

“Nice of you to join us, Severus,” Albus said, his voice polite and calm in contradiction to his actions and intentions.

The potions master was still just in his pyjama bottoms; topless and barefoot. It did not bode well for what was to come and it made him feel exposed and vulnerable as the twinkling, blue eyes studied him intensely over the top of half-moon glasses. Severus pushed himself up and onto his knees, despite his bound wrists, ensuring that Dumbledore knew he wouldn’t go down without a fight. He glared menacingly at the headmaster, bringing up his mental shields to ensure the elderly wizard would not penetrate his mind.

All Severus could think of now was protecting Harry. Whatever they did to him, however low they stooped he wouldn’t tell them anything; for surely the information he had in his head could be the only reason he wasn’t already dead. He had been at the receiving end of the most horrific torture at the hands of Voldemort, he doubted that Dumbledore could be worse than the Dark Lord.

Before Severus knew what had happened he felt a fist connect with the side of his face. He recoiled but didn’t fall, swaying slightly where he knelt. “Sirius!” he heard Albus chastise, “At least give him the chance to cooperate before you hit him, I haven’t asked him anything yet.” Snape grunted in amusement, despite the ache in his jaw where Sirius had hit him; he had forgotten how manipulative the headmaster could be.

“Then get on with it,” Sirius barked in annoyance at Albus as he rubbed his fist; he’d forgotten how much it hurt to punch someone, he hadn’t done it in years, far too accustomed to wiping out his wand for everything. He knelt down to Severus’ level, grinning wickedly, “That one was for Harry,” he said quietly but Severus didn’t even glance over to him, choosing to ignore the convict in favour of watching Dumbledore. He knew who was the more dangerous of the two wizards.

Sirius may have been handy with the physical violence, just like he had been back in their Hogwarts days but it was the scheming old man that had him worried the most. Severus watched tensely as the once prestigious headmaster paced, running his fingertips over Harry’s belongings carefully, clearly deep in thought as he browsed over each item, considering it as if he were committing each one to memory.

“Why did you take him, Severus?” Albus asked. He didn’t turn to look at the bound man as he asked this of him, instead choosing to study some of the more intimate possessions belonging to Harry, which included, oddly enough, his mother’s wedding and engagement ring. They had been propped up against a framed photo of Lily, holding a newborn Harry in her arms.

Dumbledore wasn’t even sure how Snape would have come to acquire these items of jewellery. He was sure they hadn’t been missing when the Order had gone to recover the bodies of the two Potter’s. At least he hadn’t been made aware that they were missing. As far as Albus was aware anything of value had been locked away in Harry Potter’s vault at Gringotts which had remained untouched, given that a body had never been found for the baby boy; they had never been able to prove him to be dead and had therefore his bank vault had been kept intact.

“For Lily,” Severus replied. His entire body tensing as he watched the elderly man; he hated that Dumbledore was touching things that belonged to Harry. He hated that they were all in his room right now. Severus was aware that it was almost certainly part of Albus’ game. Snape however was strong minded and was determined not to say anything but it bothered him regardless and the headmaster was sure to know this.

“Don’t say her name,” Sirius snapped, his fists clenching. He didn’t believe for a moment that Severus had ever had any feelings for Lily. Snape had called her a mudblood and all sorts of other horrible things, no the slimy Slytherin git had never felt anything for dear, sweet Lily.

“You thought you would honour her memory by kidnapping her orphaned son?” Albus asked casually, ignoring Sirius’ interruption. He picked up another of the framed photographs, this one of Severus and Harry, when the latter was a young child. They looked happy but photographs could be deceiving.

“To protect him from you,” Severus sneered. He knew that what he had done was wrong, he had indeed kidnapped a defenceless and helpless infant when he had been so recently and tragically orphaned. But it was the way Dumbledore had said it that made it sound wrong and Severus knew that he had done it for the right reasons; he wasn’t ashamed of his actions in regards to Harry. He had managed to keep the boy away from the scheming headmaster for more than thirteen years and he couldn’t regret that at all.

“And who protected him from you, Snivellus?” Sirius barked viciously. Snape grimaced at the old nickname for him but otherwise barely acknowledged Black’s presence in the room, still content to stare at Dumbledore, as the headmaster surveyed the cluttered and highly personal bedroom.

“Harry has never needed protecting from me, Black; not once in the thirteen years I have been his father!” Snape said, his voice steady, stating the fact he knew to be true. He fought to keep himself calm, refusing to rise to the bait that Dumbledore figuratively dangled before him by questioning him in here and by going through Harry’s possessions.

“James is his father!” Sirius roared furiously, struggling to control his anger. He hated Snape violently. The man had ruined Harry’s life; stolen him away from people that really loved him. He wanted to make Snape suffer!

“He has been my son, Harry Prince, far longer than he was ever Harry Potter,” Severus said maliciously, taking great pride in the enraged roar that came from Black at his words. It wouldn’t matter how many times Sirius lashed out and hit him, nothing would take away the wonderful thirteen and a half years he had spent raising Harry as his own. He would always have those memories, no amount of torture could force him to forget that.

“You changed his name?!” Sirius’ shout was full of anger and Severus knew what was coming and braced himself for it. A clenched fist collided, once again with the same side of his head as the previous punch and this time Severus tasted blood upon his tongue. He smirked inwardly to himself, allowing it pool there for a moment before rearing his head back and spitting it at the convict. Sirius reeled back in disgust as the combination of blood and saliva that coated his clothes and skin.

“Don’t worry, Sirius, the name can be changed again,” Albus said as calmly as ever, before Black could react to what Snape had done. The headmaster seemed to be completely unaffected by the bickering of the two other wizards. “He will be Harry Potter again regardless of what Severus has done,” the elderly wizard said, keeping his resolve. The boy would be who he was meant to be one way or another, Albus was determined on that matter.

“No,” Severus said at once and Dumbledore knew that he had pushed the right button. “I won’t let you!”

“You won’t be around to stop it, Severus, my boy,” Dumbledore said with a faint smile, his light blue eyes twinkling with knowledge and cunning. That man ought to have been a Slytherin rather than a Gryffindor, Severus thought angrily. “I have plans for you.”

Sirius sniggered at that, happy that Albus wasn’t going to let Snape get away with what he had done. In an attempt to calm himself down he sat upon Harry’s bed and picked up a stuffed bear, it looked worn and well loved. He turned it over in his hands, surveying it with interest, feeling Snape’s glare on him.

Severus hated seeing Black touch Baloo bear. It had been Harry’s special toy since he was five years old. Snape could still remember the small boy carrying it around with him, a toy that was half his size. Harry had refused to go anywhere without it, having had a love of the Jungle Book Disney movie for months. Even after his obsession of it had passed he had never left Baloo bear behind. To see it in the hands of Sirius made him want to shout, swear and lash out, to grab the toy away from him. He had no right to touch such a precious item of Harry’s.

“This thing mean something to you, Snivellus?” Black asked in amusement, seeing how strained the potions master was becoming as he held back his emotions. He moved across the room and held the stuffed bear up in front of Snape, mocking him with it. When Severus didn’t respond, Sirius continued; “I guess you wouldn’t want me to do this either.” With those final words he took Baloo bear in both his hands, smiled cruelly and roughly pulled at it.

The old, much loved toy that Harry had had for the last ten years of his life fell apart in the convicts hands, the thread too old to withstand much strain. The pain that tore through Severus’ chest was enough to bring tears to his eyes. The thought of the five year old Harry so besotted with that bear in his mind as the tatters of fabric were dropped to the floor, disregarded as if they were nothing.

“Harry will never forgive you for that, you know.” Snape stated dryly, trying not to allow his tears to fall, if he made it out of this alive then he would do whatever it took to get his son another one. He didn’t want to give either Black or Dumbledore the satisfaction of his tears; however, it was difficult when he knew how devastated Harry would be when he found out that his beloved Baloo bear was broken beyond repair, torn to unrecognisable strips of fabric and stuffing.

“I’m sure you believed that he truly wanted to be here, Severus, but he belongs with his true family.” the headmaster said. He sounded so detached from the whole situation; it was almost if Dumbledore was delusional enough to believe that they were all sitting around drinking tea rather than emotionally and mentally torturing a man with the slow demise of his son’s most precious possessions.

“And what would you classify as true family, Albus?” Severus spat out in fury. He struggled more viciously against the ties that bound his wrists behind his back to no avail. There would be no easy escape for him out of this situation. He just hoped that Harry had the good sense not to come back looking for him.

“What about his Godfather perhaps, or how about his Aunt and Uncle? Did they not deserve him, to have Harry in their lives?” Albus asked still calm, still calculating.

“You mean this crazy fool who spent a decade having his brain addled by dementors or Petunia, who Lily fell out with all because she despised magic so much?” Severus sneered at them. Severus knew that Harry had had no true family, at least none that could have taken him in and accepted him; given him the life he deserved, the life that Severus had been able to provide.

“At least we wouldn’t have kept him in a cage!” Sirius bellowed heatedly. He went to lash out again but a raised hand and a stern look kept Sirius from hitting Snape for a third time.

“Harry was happy with me, he was safe with me,” Severus retorted, he wanted to deny putting Harry in the cage but he couldn’t because he had done it once a month until Harry was old enough to do it himself. He wouldn’t give away Harry’s secret to these fools however, he refused to tell them anything of importance. They could question him endlessly but he wouldn’t give in. He would give them nothing they could use against his son and he especially would tell them nothing about how to go about finding him.

“Severus, I am sure that you meant well but Harry will be taken care of properly now, you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” Dumbledore said with a wry smile. The headmaster was thrilled that sooner rather than later he was going to have the wizarding world’s hero back and the war effort would finally be back on track. They would finally have a chance to defeat Tom, now they would have Harry on their side.

“No!” Severus said in horror, “You can’t!”

“See, he doesn’t even want Harry to be loved; he wants to watch him suffer, he’s doing this as his revenge on James for stupid childish pranks!” Sirius said in outrage eliciting another glare from Severus who couldn’t believe that Black was foolish enough to believe that he would do something like this as revenge for a few practical jokes. That he would take an innocent child on a whim and raise him because he was bullied in school. Black was even more delusional than he had realised.

“I think we are getting a little off topic here, gentleman,” Dumbledore said patiently as he turned to face the bound man. He held Harry’s snitch in his hand, twirling it around in his long fingers. “Severus, you need to tell us what you’ve done with Harry, where is he?” The headmaster asked kindly as he played with the little golden ball.

Severus remembered vividly when Harry had caught it, he’d been only seven years old and he had been given the snitch along his first broom for his birthday. He had instantly run out into the garden, anxious to play. Severus had watched with pride as Harry had jumped upon the broom without hesitation, releasing the snitch into the air and chasing after it. He had captured the little golden ball with ease. However that was just another memory that these two were going to destroy right in front of his eyes while attempting to crush his soul. Their actions however only made him more determined to protect his son from them.

“Harry is gone, where I hope you never get to lay your greedy, selfish hands on him,” Severus growled, protective of his boy. He couldn’t help but wonder what the time was, how long did he have until Harry, Damon and Clay came looking for him? They were bound to do so eventually. Severus knew his son well, he would have gone straight to the Danes’ home for the night. He just hoped that they didn’t all walk into a trap. Severus would never forgive himself if the two Danes men were caught in the crossfire and hurt when they had no clue what was going on.

“Severus, we have known each other a long time, I would rather not have to watch you suffer. However, I do need answers and, I assure you, I will get them,” Dumbledore pressed on, he dropped the little golden ball on the floor before lowering his heel upon it stepped on the small golden ball. The snitch had been eight years old and no match for Albus’ heavy footing, it cracked in half revealing its hollow inside.

Despite the clear threat that had been delivered there was no hint of violence or hatred in his tone, only his actions seemed to back up what he was saying but even they were subtle. The elderly wizard remained calm and aloof almost, as if he had washed his hands of the ugly matter entirely, as though emotionally torturing someone wasn’t as reprehensible as doing it physically. The sight of the broken snitch, another memento from Harry’s childhood destroyed, made Severus tense but he forced himself to be strong and not show he cared.

“I love Harry, he is my son; I would rather die than allow him to become a pawn in your war Albus!” Severus hissed and the headmaster sighed; his patience beginning to wear thin. The sun was already beginning to rise. He hadn’t wanted it to go on this long but Snape was being stubborn. Albus had thought that he would be easier to break than this but perhaps this had been a foolish assumption to make.

“Your death can easily be arranged,” Sirius countered as he strode forward, ignoring Dumbledore’s calm and softly spoken warnings to stop; the headmaster hadn’t sounded as if he really wanted him to stop at all.

Black raised a fist and brought it down heavily upon Severus’ cheek, catching the potions master off guard, and he fell to the side. Taking the opportunity Sirius landed a well-placed kick to Snape’s abdomen. Albus stood back, calmly asking Sirius to stop but doing nothing to back up his words as blow after blow rained down on the bound and defenseless man, who could do nothing but instinctively curl up on himself.

As Sirius continued to hit and kick him Severus couldn’t help but think, perhaps it would be better for it all to end here for him; that it potentially might be better for Black to beat him until his body gave out. At least then they would never get to Harry.

While he was alive, he was a living, breathing map to their saviour; he was nothing more than a piece of meat that could be used as bait to draw Harry in. He even found himself smiling through the pain as blood trickled out the corner of his mouth. Harry knew that he loved him no matter what and the letter had warned him not to trust Albus Dumbledore. Severus had done everything in his power to help and protect the boy who he felt was his son. If he died now then he would die happy.

He would get to see his beloved Lily once more. He would finally be able to tell her how much of a remarkable young man her son had turned out to be. He could share with her all the happy memories they had created together and how much joy little Harry had brought into his life. How Harry had become the family that he had never known that he had wanted until the opportunity to have it was presented. He would be able to take Lily into his arms and hold her once again. Oh how he missed her. If only death would come quicker so that he may see her sooner.

Severus found himself disappointed when the attack ceased but the pain did not. It meant that he was, regrettably, still alive. He would have welcomed death and couldn’t understand why Black had stopped his assault. Then he realised what had happened, as he heard Dumbledore ask Sirius to go and check what the noise was that they were hearing downstairs.

Severus’ stomach lurched and he almost expelled the contents of his stomach as he realised that Harry had probably come back to look for him, likely with Damon and Clay in tow. There could be no other person who would come here at this time in the morning when the sun was still climbing. They were going to take Harry away and there was nothing Severus could do to stop them; too weak and in too much pain to do anything to protect his son.

FGHP

Walking into his living room the following morning Damon was startled to find the small form of Harry Prince curled up on his sofa. The young boy was shirtless and just in a pair of pyjama bottoms. It was disconcerting to find him there as he hadn’t expected him. Also when Harry did decide to stay over he always slept on a camp bed in Clay’s room. He was too curious about why Harry had found the need to come and sleep in their living room, or even how he had got into the house at all, to just let the poor child sleep.

Damon sat down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, staring at the fifteen year old, startled to see the dry tear tracks down his cheeks; he also noted the scrunched up piece of parchment in one fist. Whatever the reason for finding Harry here he knew that it couldn’t be anything good. Damon had no clue what it could be, Harry and Severus didn’t fight; it wasn’t in their nature when it came to each other. He just couldn’t understand what could have happened to bring him here.

“Harry,” Damon said gently, not wanting to startle the young boy, placing a gentle hand on his arm to rouse the teenager.

Emerald eyes blinked open, looking around in confusion as he took in where he was. Damon said nothing while he waited for Harry to adjust from his dream clouded state and become a little more alert. Horror seemed to flash deep within his eyes and it pained the older wolf to see it there. Before either of them had said a word Harry broke down into tears. A little alarmed, Damon gathered Harry up into his arms and just held him as the young boy cried.

“Someone came,” Harry managed to say through his sobs, “Someone came to the house and he told me that he loved me and made me leave, he told me to run.”

“Harry, you need to calm down little one,” Damon said calmly as he rubbed soothing circles upon his back, not understand what a distraught Harry was saying “What happened?”

Harry tried to calm himself with a deep breath but his chest felt constricted as if something was preventing him from taking a breath. He had just left his Dad to face whatever or whoever it was who had broken into their home when he could have easily stayed and fought by his side. Sure, he had promised his dad that he would escape and be safe, but how safe could he be without his Dad by his side? Harry knew that if his father wasn’t here and that he hadn’t come to find him, then there was very little chance that he was still alive. He would never willingly stay away.

“Dad came and woke me up, he was panicking, I’ve never seen him so scared,” Harry said trying to organise his jumbled thoughts in way that would be coherent and easily understood. “I heard them as they broke down the door. Dad gave me this letter and told me that no matter what happened or what I was told I would always be his son and that he loved me.”

“May I see the letter?” Damon asked, motioning to the parchment that was still scrunched up in Harry’s hand. The younger wolf nodded as he handed it over, seeing no problem with showing him. He trusted Damon, Harry had known him since he was eleven. He had slept in his house countless times, eaten the food he had prepared and loved him as his best friend’s Dad who had always spoilt and indulged him a little more than his own father had.

Damon scanned over the contents; it was lucky he could read fast because a few seconds later Harry snatched back the letter in horror, realising that he had just willingly handed this man his deepest, darkest secret. That he was a werewolf.

“It’s okay little one, I know what you are,” Damon said softly, understanding Harry’s sudden panic. Harry almost fell out of his lap in shock. “I’m one as well and so is Clayton, we were sent here to watch out for you and protect you.”

“Who sent you?” Harry asked desperately, feeling utterly overwhelmed and a little betrayed. He had been kept in the dark about so much by everyone that he loved. It wasn’t a nice feeling to have. It was becoming rather apparent that there was a lot that had been hidden from him.

“Our Alpha,” Damon said, not willing to go into it any further, at least not here, not now and certainly not like this. Harry was clearly in a state of shock and he needed some time to process everything that had happened before more baggage was loaded on top of him.

“Alpha?” Harry questioned as Damon stood up, placing Harry effortlessly back on the sofa. He needed to get dressed, he needed to check on Severus, he needed to inform Fenrir what was going on and most importantly he needed to protect the two boys; they were his sole responsibility right now, there was no one else to protect them other than him.

“Yes, the Alpha of our pack,” Damon responded absent-mindedly as he headed for the stairs with Harry following in his wake. He knew that he was being followed and he didn’t have the heart to stop him. Damon knew the poor child would have more questions than he knew what to do with but he was not the one to give him the answers that he needed.

Hammering on Clayton’s closed bedroom door somewhat violently, Damon shouted through to him to wake up. Harry couldn’t help but snigger at the resounding groan that came from within. Confused, upset and overwhelmed he might have been at everything that was happening but Clay would never fail to make him smile no matter what mood he was in. The older man then turned to him, looking at him directly in the eye, insuring that he was listening.

“Put on some of Clay’s clothes, you need to be dressed. I’m going to go and check on your house, see if your Dad’s there,” Damon said quickly, enforcing his words. “Can you do that?”

“I’m coming with you,” Harry insisted with determination as he nodded his head. Damon however was shaking his.

“No, Harry, you are not. Your father would never forgive me if I allowed it and our Alpha would skin me alive if I put you in danger; you’ll be staying here with Clayton.”

“You keep saying our Alpha …” Harry said, meeting the older man’s gaze with defiant confidence, staring him down and refusing to look away.

“Yes, because he will be your Alpha too, Harry,” Damon said softly, he didn’t want to overload the poor boy, who had already dealt with enough in the past few hours. “Go and get dressed, make sure Clay does the same, be ready to leave when I get back, just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

“Whoever broke into your house isn’t gone,” Damon stated bluntly before turning and heading into his bedroom to dress himself.

Harry charged into Clay’s room, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t care what Damon said, he was going; he wanted to go and find his Dad, even if he only found a body, and if those that had done this were still there then he was going to make sure they suffered for taking his Dad from him.

“Harry …?” Clay said sleepily, as he stretched and yawned in bed still, Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Something happened, last night; Dad and I were attacked, I came here; and we need to get dressed.” Harry rambled off as he threw open Clay’s wardrobe drawers and began throwing clothes in his direction. “And why the hell didn’t you tell me you were a werewolf!” Harry demanded suddenly, rounding on his best friend.

“Back at you,” Clay returned un-phased by the sudden demanding question so early in the morning as he grabbed at the clothes Harry had thrown at him and started pulling them on. He really did sleep naked and so made sure to pull his jeans on before standing up.

Harry glared at Clay, knowing that he was right. Harry hadn’t been any more forthcoming about his second nature than Clayton had been. However they had bigger concerns to deal with right now without worrying about who had deceived the other more.

“Your Dad is going to my place to check things out, he doesn’t want us to come,” Harry said in a clear grump at this decision.

“We’re going though, right?” Clayton asked as he turned around to face the wall to allow Harry the privacy he needed to dress. Harry took the cue and took off his pyjama bottoms and pulled on a pair of Clay’s jeans.

“Of course,” Harry returned, sounding as if he was surprised that Clay had even asked this; he pulled a t-shirt over his head and his best friend did the same.

It was fortunate that the two of them were so similar in size. Clay was at least a head taller than Harry but other than that his clothes fit the younger boy perfectly. They were even the same shoe size, which couldn’t have been more perfect, for that moment, as they pulled on a pair of sneakers each and grabbed their wands, stowing them safely in their arm holsters. They both shrugged on zip up jumpers over the top to conceal them from any muggles that might be lurking around. Also they didn’t want Damon to know what they were planning on doing, hiding their wands was key to that.

The two teenagers came out just as Damon was heading down the stairs, fully dressed himself, he looked grimly determined in the way he was walking. Clayton called out to his Dad, making him stop and turn to face the two boys; they looked at the older man expectantly. “No,” Damon said at once.

“Dad,” Clay argued.

“No,” Damon repeated.

“This is my Dad!” Harry argued.

“I don’t care, I’ve given you my reasons and I didn’t need to, you’ll both stay here and do as you’re told for once,” Damon said sternly before adding, “Clay, if I’m not back in half an hour you know where to go.”

With that he turned away from them thinking that the matter was settled, however he missed the look that the two teenagers shared and the satisfied smirk they had given each other. They knew that if they hadn’t caused any fuss over not going at all then Damon would have been suspicious. The objection at being left behind had all been for show.

They waited somewhat impatiently for the front door to close as Damon left before they hurried back into Clay’s bedroom, opening the window wide enough for them to fit through and taking it in turns to jump out. Landing two storey’s down without a single injury.

Stealing around the side of the house, Clayton in lead, they headed for Harry’s house. The older of the two teenagers was more than a little aware of how dangerous what they were doing actually was. He had been told countless times by his Dad that Harry had to be protected by orders of their Alpha. This felt like he was going directly against those orders and it didn’t sit right with him at all. Harry however would have gone whether Clay had agreed to help or not and what kind of friend or protector would he have been if he had let Harry go alone?

The two of them ducked behind some overgrown shrubbery as they watched Damon very cautiously enter Harry’s home. From the outside nothing untoward seemed to have happened within. Harry hoped that this was a good omen but somehow he doubted it.

“Come on, we’ll go round to the back door,” Harry said quietly. Clay nodded in agreement. He went first, checking the area for hidden dangers.

The rear door of the house had been blasted off its hinges. It almost looked as if a giant had taken hold of it and ripped it off with his bare hands. Harry’s heart was thumping wildly in his chest as they crouched below the window frame by the dismantled back door, listening as voices floated out from within.

“…Using children to fight his battles, think they can sneak up on me,” came a gruff voice from within. Harry and Clay exchanged looks of horror at these words. Without understanding how they had been caught.

“What do you mean, Mad-Eye?” a more feminine voice questioned with a little confusion.

“Show yourselves,” the wizard apparently called Mad-Eye, grunted rather loudly.

Clutching at their wands for all they were worth, Harry and Clayton stood up and walked brazenly into the kitchen, pointing their wands directly at the two strangers. One a witch with bright pink hair and a pretty face, the other an older man, with a face that looked as if he had seen better days, one eye spinning around in a way that made the younger boys slightly dizzy. Both of them wore insignias on their cloaks that declared them as Aurors.

Damon was stood on the other side of the two strangers, the woman’s wand pointed directly at him, Damon’s own blackthorn wand already discarded to the ground. Harry didn’t think that he had ever seen him look quite so disappointed at them as he did in that moment and Damon had had plenty of opportunity in the last four years to look disappointed at Harry and Clayton with the amount of trouble they caused together.

“Mad-Eye … that’s …” the woman said, glancing at the two teenagers, her attention focused mainly on Harry though and the scar which was only just visible through his thick mass of black hair. Her focus on his pack brother made Clayton growl and step in front of his friend defensively, wanting to protect him from her. He too had seen the look his father was giving them and wanted to prove himself not to be completely incompetent.

“I’m aware, Nymphadora!” the wizard snapped. The witch glared at him, her hair going bright red at his words but with great effort she held her tongue. Neither Harry nor Clay had the good sense to lower their wands. “Drop your wands boys, or else I might do something I regret to this man here,” Mad-Eye said, trying to lessen how harsh his tone sounded, motioning to Damon.

“Dumbledore sent us to get you, Harry,” the woman, who apparently disliked being called Nymphadora, said, her wand still aimed directly at Damon. The name Dumbledore echoed in his mind as the man whom his father had warned him about, told him not to trust. Neither teenager paid any heed to the warning to lower their wands though, only gripping them tighter, posed and ready for an attack.

“What did you do to my Dad?” Harry demanded from them furiously.

“Your father is dead!” the male Auror barked in annoyance.

“No! You did something to him!” Harry yelled, refusing to believe that it was true, his hands trembled with rage at the thought that his Dad was gone, that he would never see him again. He couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t!

“Mad-Eye … he thinks that,” Nymphadora started to say but her fellow Auror rudely cut her off mid-sentence.

“Shut up!” he barked at the witch, before turning back to Harry. “Don’t be stupid boy, now drop your wands and we can get going back to Hog-.” However Mad-Eye didn’t get to finish what he was saying before he was hit directly in the chest with a stunning spell, sent from Clayton.

Taking the chance, Damon dove for his wand. The witch, startled by this turn of events, tried to curse the older werewolf with a well-aimed ‘confringo’ to stop him from reaching his wand and attacking her; but Harry, thinking on his feet, cast a shield charm between the two of them to protect Damon from the curse, which if it hadn’t killed him then it would have at least caused some serious damage.

While the male Auror lay upon the floor under the effects of the stunning spell, Clayton disarmed the witch of her wand while Damon got to his feet, regaining himself and his composure.

Nymphadora immediately raised her hands in surrender, rendered wandless and therefore defenceless against the three werewolves. The older of the three did not look happy; though to say that was probably an understatement judging by the thunderous look he wore as he glared at the two boys.

Words couldn’t express how angry he was at the two teenagers for putting themselves in such great danger when he had specifically asked them to stay behind where they would be out of harm’s way. He hoped he never had to tell Fenrir how recklessly idiotic the two of them were. He aimed his wand at the female Auror, who looked positively terrified and she had good reason to be, his rage bubbling as he glared at her. She would have killed him with that curse she’d fired, if it wasn’t for Harry casting the shield charm.

Damon desperately wanted to return the favour, however he wasn’t about to traumatise the two teenage boys, whom he cared so much for, no matter how much trouble they were, especially when together, by killing someone in front of them. It wasn’t worth it, not when you considered all the effort he and Severus had gone to so that they would be protected from things like that. He wasn’t about to undo all their hard work in a fit of rage. He muttered the body-binding curse, first on the witch and then on her male companion before rounding on the teenagers, a murderous look in his steely grey eyes.

“Home, right now!” he snarled as he put his wand away, the two boys doing the same now that the danger had passed. Damon took two large strides towards Harry and Clay, taking each teen by one ear and forcibly dragging them out of the house and back towards his home so that they could pack their bags. They had to leave as it was no longer safe for them to stay here.

It hadn’t been in Fenrir’s plans to bring Harry to join the pack until he reached sixteen however with no sign of Severus and the Auror declaring him dead, Damon didn’t think he had much choice now. He had been sent to watch over and protect Harry until he was sixteen, no one had expected something like this to happen.

Damon had liked Severus, they had been friends, it was hard to believe that the man was dead. What reason would Aurors have to break into his house and kill him? Aurors were not known for acting rashly, not even in times of war. There had to be a reason for it and he would have to at least try to figure it out before they reached the pack because Fenrir would want an explanation as to why his orders had not been followed.

“Can I get some of my stuff from upstairs?” Harry asked, wincing at the pain shooting through his ear as Damon dragged him from the house.

“No,” he snapped irritably, not slowing his pace, “It’s too dangerous, you can negotiate coming back here with Fenrir another time!”

“Who’s Fenrir?” Harry asked as their pace quickened and the boys had to jog to keep up or else have their already sore ears torn from their heads.

“The Alpha!” came the harsh barked reply.

FGHP

Sirius crept down the stairs, wand drawn, leaving Dumbledore in Harry’s bedroom with Snape. Black was covered in the potion master’s blood from the brutal attack he had launched upon him, which had been worth the expended energy as it had given him immense satisfaction. He had dreamed about beating up the greasy git for so many years, the fantasy of it had often kept him amused in Azkaban, long before he’d known that the slimy bat had kidnapped his Godson. However, the smug satisfaction of what he had just done faded somewhat, when he walked into the kitchen and saw both Tonks and Mad-Eye on the floor under the body-bind curse. Immediately he called up to Dumbledore, for him to come down.

It took next to no time at all for Albus to appear, but not before stunning Severus, of course. He didn’t want to risk him escaping, though there was little chance of that with a combination of the beating Sirius had given him and the magical bindings that rendered his hands useless. As he joined Sirius downstairs, the headmaster took in the damage that had been done; he removed the body-bind curse from the two prominent Aurors and started demanding answers from them. Tonks immediately looked embarrassed, Mad-Eye however looked furious.

“Potter!” he had growled furiously and at the mention of Harry, Sirius had made an attempt to get to the door but the headmaster had stopped him.

“No, Sirius,” he had said calmly giving the convict a very stern glare.

“But he can’t have gone far, we could still catch him,” Sirius protested.

“We don’t need to run after him anymore,” Albus reasoned, “Harry will come to us in time.”

“What do you mean?” Tonks asked. She was confused as to how they would manage this when they had been tracking Harry for a good few years and this was the first time they had ever come close to catching him.

“He has no legal guardian now, and no one to tutor him in his magical education,” Dumbledore explained. “He will be forced into attendance at Hogwarts come January. He wouldn’t dare refuse, not when we have something he will want.”

Without waiting for anyone to comment on his plan to allow Harry to come to them, Dumbledore turned on his heel, allowing his violet cloak swish out behind him as he headed back up the stairs to Harry’s bedroom. He grinned at the stunned form of Severus Snape lying broken and bleeding on the floor. Dumbledore had been intending to let the man die; after all, Albus hadn’t thought that there would be a use for him. Now however he knew different.

It was perfect really. There had been a spell that he had been dying to try out ever since they had lost control of Azkaban. He had thought it up himself and it was perfectly ingenious even if he did say so himself. It was a spell to immobilise the victim entirely so that they had no control over their body, essentially becoming comatose. However the wonder of the spell meant that the victim would remain conscious and aware of their surroundings, not even finding solace in sleep.

Albus’ favourite part of course was the emotional aspect; while immobile and defenceless they would feel as if there were a hundred dementors surrounding them. Completely ingenious, in one simple spell he mirrored the effects of being imprisoned in Azkaban but so much worse, as the victim couldn’t move and couldn’t scream.

Removing his wand from within his robes Albus Dumbledore smiled. He made sure to wake the potions professor first; he wanted to ensure that Severus would be aware of everything around him and be able to do nothing about it. He waited until the onyx eyes glared up at him feebly before he cast.

“Corporis Miseria Carcerium” the headmaster said clearly, pronouncing each word with care, a ghost of a smile on his lips as the spell took effect.

FGHP

The Pack had settled well, aside from Micha and Jenson’s constant bickering and teasing amongst themselves which was just par for the course now. Fenrir’s mind was preoccupied with the werewolf he had seen in town and was planning his return within the next few days to fetch him. He wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. He would go alone and have no distractions.

The peaceful calm that had descended in the clearing at Oakhill wood was very abruptly shattered when a loud crack of someone apparating in sounded, echoing off the trees, and Callie was distinctly heard calling out her brother’s name in surprise. Fenrir’s attention was suddenly on his surroundings and fully alert; he had asked Damon to watch over Harry, if he was here then something must have been wrong.

His eyes located his second in command quickly, looking to judge what had happened but he was surprised to see that Damon was dragging the two teenage boys under his care along with him, having hold of their upper arms in a fierce grip and all three looked to be unharmed.

Everyone had clambered to their feet and were ready for an attack; Micha had even stopped his teasing of Jenson at the sudden intrusion of three new werewolves into their territory, falling silent, which Fenrir might have taken a moment to appreciate if he hadn’t been so concerned as to why the three of them had suddenly appeared. Every pack member was on the defensive and ready to attack if their Alpha gave the order that these three newcomers were not welcome.

The majority of the pack had never met Damon before today as he had been forbidden from leaving Harry unguarded; Fenrir and Callie the only two to know who Damon was. Clayton, just like Harry, had never set foot in the claimed territory before but neither of the young boys had much of a chance to appreciate the beauty of their surroundings, both too focused on the grip that Damon had upon them as he dragged them along.

“Stand down!” Fenrir barked at the tensed werewolves, who all visibly relaxed at their Alpha’s instruction, though all of them looking curiously intrigued at the three new arrivals. All apart from Callie whose focus was largely on the dark haired boy to the left of her brother. He was the only one of the three she had never seen before, though her brother had informed her that he had been charged with guarding someone, for Fenrir, during their frequent correspondence with one another; she could only assume that it had been this unknown boy.

“What is the meaning of this Damon?” The Alpha growled, glaring at his beta wolf, his voice harsh, demanding answers somewhat impatiently. He hadn’t wanted Harry here for another year; he hadn’t been expecting them to turn up without a word of a warning that they were coming. This was not how he would have liked to be reunited with his mate for the first time since biting him.

“We had a… complication,” Damon began, not releasing his firm grip upon the two fifteen year olds. “Aurors, two of them; one damn near killed me,” Damon explained. “I would probably be dead if it wasn’t for these two never listening to a single word I say!”

Fenrir’s gaze switched to Harry at the mention of Aurors, barely registering anything else his beta wolf had said. Fenrir itched to go to his little mate, to check him over for injuries and make sure he was okay. He hadn’t seen the boy since he was a baby and had bitten him. He found that there was a desperate need to reacquaint himself, now that Harry was grown, stirring within him.

The scent of the young submissive wolf had hit Fenrir the moment he’d come within three feet of the teenager, making him go a little instinctual, which he had to fight to suppress. He found that it bothered him to see the harsh grip that Damon had on his mate and he tensed, eyes narrowing and fists clenching, overly aware that every eye in the pack was upon them, their gazes curious.

Damon instantly recognized the disapproval and annoyance on his Alpha’s face; the two of them had known each other since they were nine year old boys in a muggle orphanage and he knew when Fenrir was less than pleased. Realising that it was his hold on Harry that was causing the problem, Damon released the young boy at once and then so that it wouldn’t be too suspicious he also released his hold on Clayton.

“The boy’s father?” Fenrir enquired stiffly, trying to reign in his animalistic tendencies that were telling him to cover the teen with his scent, to mark his soft flesh and claim him as his mate. He couldn’t though, the human side of him knew that much at least; he didn’t want to scare Harry away. The poor teenager looked positively terrified as it was. There was no telling what his reaction would be if Fenrir went feral and began quite publicly claiming him.

“Dead,” Damon responded, “according to the Aurors that came to his home.”

At these words Harry’s breath hitched and Fenrir’s attention was turned to his little mate fully and he saw that tears were forming at the corners of his bright green eyes. He wasn’t sure why but he felt sorry for him, he didn’t like to feel pity for anything but he did for Harry. Fenrir had never known his own father and his mother had died when he was a very young boy; he couldn’t understand parental love that wizards knew, he could only understand the love for his pack but he felt sympathy for Harry when he saw the tears beginning to form.

Angrily Harry wiped away the wetness around his eyes. He wouldn’t cry in front of these people, he didn’t know them and refused to show weakness. He didn’t understand why Damon had brought him here but he didn’t like it. If this was the Alpha then he was determined that he wasn’t about to play nice just because this man was supposed to be the leader of the pack. He had just lost his Dad and he was struggling to wrap his mind around that. He couldn’t believe that his Dad was gone that he would never see him again.

Surveying the wolf he now knew to be Fenrir, the Alpha wolf, he could admit that he had a rugged handsomeness to him; however his personal grooming techniques left much to be desired. He had long dark blonde hair that looked as if it hadn’t seen a hair brush in a fair few days, if not weeks and was tied untidily at the nape of his neck. Not that Harry could point fingers with his unruly mass of hair but at least he made an effort with it.

The Alpha’s beautifully muscled torso was bare beneath a well-worn leather jacket that reached down to his calves, an item of clothing that looked as if it had seen better days. His gloriously manly chest covered in sprinklings of curled hair that matched the shade atop his head. Harry’s eyes swept over the trail of light coloured hair that led from the older man’s belly button and disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Quickly tearing his eyes away, he focused them anywhere else but on the Alpha wolf. He didn’t want to give Fenrir the satisfaction of knowing that he had been staring, even admiring, him. Oh no, he wasn’t about to do that. Harry cast a quick glance to Clayton who was determinedly keeping his head lowered and gaze down, not making eye contact; something Harry didn’t understand as it was most unlike the Clay he knew.

Harry looked up he met the beautifully golden gaze of Fenrir Greyback; he didn’t blink, instead holding the gaze determinedly. If the Alpha hadn’t known from his scent that Harry was a naturally submissive werewolf then he would have seen the blatant, unwavering eye contact as a challenge. As it was, he found it endearing that his little mate had so much courage that he would dare to try and stare him down.

Harry didn’t know where he was and he was feeling emotionally overwhelmed, his body awash with the grief from the loss of his father, the painful emotion having not yet pierced his heart. The moment it did he would collapse, give up and just cry but for the moment he was running on adrenaline, it gave him the strength to meet the intense golden irises and not look away from them.

He still had Damon and Clayton with him and that made him braver. Despite feeling hurt and slightly betrayed that they had hidden so much from him for so long, he still trusted them. If he couldn’t trust them then he wouldn’t have had anyone left and he would truly be alone, feeling lost and vulnerable with no clue as to what was going on.

“Let the boys get some rest,” Fenrir ordered, though his tone was a lot less harsh as he said this, his gaze still resting on his young mate, who was looking around in confusion.

Harry was glad that no one was trying to separate him from Clay and Damon; he was more than willing to kick up a fuss if anyone, including the Alpha, tried. Looking around however, Harry realised for the first time that there were no buildings here. He wasn’t entirely sure exactly where he was supposed to rest with no beds.

There was a large fire and he spotted that close by there a pile of animal hides, which was when he realised that the Pack apparently slept outside. He had never slept anywhere other than in a bed or on a sofa; he had never even so much as gone camping before. The idea of being on the ground didn’t exactly appeal to him, Harry liked to be comfortable and in a bed. It made him wonder what they did in regards to bathing, but then perhaps, looking at Fenrir, they didn’t do that all too often. Harry wasn’t sure he was going to get along well here if first impressions were anything to go by. It seemed a wholly miserable existence to him.

It was still early but Harry hadn’t slept much the night before and he felt himself being drawn to the warmth of the fire regardless of his feelings about it and sleeping on the ground. Clay approached him and put an arm around his shoulder, silently offering reassurance to Harry, who despite feeling a little detached from his best friend, accepted the embrace. He was more in need of the comfort he could offer, than the argument the two of them were bound to have at some point.

“They’re only friends,” Damon said quietly to his Alpha so that only the two of them could hear as Fenrir watched the two young teenagers together, his fists clenching in jealousy. He didn’t like the contact they shared as they sat before the fire, gazing into the embers and practically cuddled like lovers rather than best friends. “They are all each other have known for years, they’re close but nothing more than friends.” Somewhat stiffly Fenrir nodded, saying nothing more on the matter.

“We need to talk” Fenrir grunted to his beta. Damon nodded and followed his Alpha as they walked away from the group. He could see that his sister desperately wanted to talk to him but she would have to wait. Fenrir needed to be informed of everything first. “What happened?” Fenrir asked once they were far enough away from the group.

“This morning I woke up and found Harry asleep on my sofa. After talking to him I went to his house to see what was going on and find Severus …”

“Who?” Fenrir barked out impatiently.

“Oh … Harry’s father, but there were Aurors there, they attacked me, damn near killed me too,” Damon explained. “It was Harry who saved my life and before you ask, Alpha, I didn’t take the boys with me, I told them to stay behind and they didn’t listen. They have a habit of doing that.” Damon spoke calmly and quickly, delivering what his Alpha needed to know in quick succession. “For the record though I think I know how this happened.”

“Explain,” Fenrir asked, he was never as harsh with Damon as he was with the rest of the Pack. They had known each other since they were nine year old boys having met in a muggle orphanage. Fenrir had instantly taken Damon and Callie under his wing and sworn to protect them both.

“Clay and Harry snuck out for Harry’s fifteenth birthday at the end of July.” Damon told him making Fenrir growl deep in his throat. “Again, not something I approved,” he added quickly. “But it seems that they ran into trouble. Two men approached them and started calling Harry by a different name, James I think it was.” Damon paused, watching to see if the name meant anything to his Alpha, but it seemed it didn’t and not wanting to test Fenrir’s patience, he went on. “They seemed to know a lot about him, including his mother’s name, which was Lily. One of them was a werewolf. I can’t be sure if that incident is linked to whatever happened last night but I doubt it is a coincidence.”

“The two men, do you know their names?” Fenrir asked curiously.

“Clay told me that they referred to each other as Remus and Sirius,” Damon informed his Alpha who seemed to be churning this information over in his head. He waited, wanting to give the slightly older werewolf a chance to draw his own conclusions before interrupting his thought processes. “Look, I know that it’s unrelated but something occurred to me,” Damon told him.

Fenrir’s attention returned to him and he made a grunting noise which the beta wolf took as permission to go on. “The only James and Lily I have ever heard of are the Potter’s,” he explained. “They were supposedly killed along with their son … Harry, that was almost fourteen years ago. You told me when you sent me to watch over him that Severus was not his real father, it could explain why they kept running.”

“Harry…” Fenrir said in a quiet rumbling voice, “you believe he is the murdered boy?”

Damon shrugged; he couldn’t be sure of this but he believed it to be so. He wanted to give the Alpha a chance to draw his own conclusions on the matter. Not that it would likely make a lot of difference in Fenrir’s mind, the boy would still be his mate and bear his pups; but Damon was aware that if this was truly Harry Potter then the chance that someone would come looking for him just increased many times over.

People would want answers if they knew that he were alive; probably including the Dark Lord, who would likely want to finish the murder of the Potter family that had been started all those years ago. Dumbledore would probably want him too, and the Ministry might come looking for explanations. Harry was going to be trouble for them, Damon knew that. However he had watched Harry grow up, he was almost like a second son to him and a brother to Clayton. Harry couldn’t help who he was and it didn’t seem that Severus had been very forthcoming with the boy about it either. The pack was all that Harry had now, they were his family and they would take care of their own, no matter what danger presented itself.

Fenrir looked over at where Harry was sitting with Clayton. “It changes nothing,” Fenrir grunted stubbornly. He cared very little for the worries of those outside of his pack; it didn’t matter where his Harry had come from, all that was important was that the boy was where he was meant to be now.

Damon didn’t want to argue with the head of their pack but he worried that it would never be simple. He wished that what the Alpha said would be true, that Harry’s identity would never come back to bite the pack in the arse, but he didn’t honestly believe that. “I hope that you’re right, my Alpha,” Damon said somewhat doubtfully. “It’s good to be back here finally,” he added.

“Believe me, Damon, it is good to have you back,” Fenrir said giving his beta a brief pat on the back. It was as close as the two would ever get to hugging but the emotion was there.

There was a deep respect and trust between the two of them. Fenrir had trusted his beta wolf with Harry for over a decade and Damon had trusted his Alpha with his little sister, whom he was very protective over. They were family, they were more than that, they were a pack. “I think Callie wants to talk to you,” Fenrir added with an amused grunt as he looked over to see her waiting rather impatiently.

“Indeed,” Damon returned, “I think she might have something to tell me in regards to the young man who can’t take his eyes off her.”

“I believe I’ll let her fill you in,” Fenrir returned with a wry smile as his beta wolf began to head off towards his sister.

It was good to see his little sister. She was a tall yet slender woman whose skeleton could be seen through her skin. She had never fully recovered from the bought of childhood illnesses that had forced the two of them into the orphanage where they had first met Fenrir. Damon was shocked that she had survived her first change and he suspected that it was only due to her being a werewolf that she lived this long. She had always kept her hair cut short, never letting it grow beyond her chin, the light brown colour echoing that of their mother.

The moment he was close enough she flung her arms around his shoulders, holding him close and he returned the embrace wholeheartedly. He had missed her and clearly the feeling had been mutual. It took a few moments for the two of them to release one another, it had been too long since they last seen each other.

“I think you have some explaining to do,” Damon said as he nodded his head towards Jenson who was hovering about not far from them. Being the protective big brother that he was he eyed the other wolf who seemed to have intentions towards his little sister with dislike. Aside from Fenrir he seemed to be the largest and most muscled of the pack with red hair that stuck up all over the place, worse than even Harry’s, which was saying something.

“He was one of the first to join the pack after you left with Clay,” Callie explained as the two of them headed away from the group a little way so that they could talk, settling themselves at the edge of a clearing, leaning against the trunk of a particularly large tree. “He rescued the little girl over there, Romy.”

Damon quickly located the girl she had mentioned, he watched with interest as Jenson went to sit beside the little, young girl, fondly stroking the mass of light brown curls that fell to her shoulders as they tended to the fire together. Clearly she was the youngest of the pack. Compared to everyone else gathered in the clearing she was positively tiny. He found it hard to believe that she was a werewolf at all. Jenson was clearly very protective of Romy, something which Damon approved of, it proved that he might just be worthy enough to receive his sister’s affections.

“And you two are … together?” Damon queried, trying not to sound overly bothered but he could never hide anything from Callie.

She smiled at her big brother fondly. “We are,” she said to him. Damon nodded thoughtfully at this as he turned his attention to his adoptive son and Harry who were curled up together under a single animal hide next to the fire.

“If he hurts you I will rip him to pieces,” Damon told her, his voice calm but there was no mistaking the fact that he was deadly serious.

“I would expect no less from you, big brother,” Callie returned with a smile as she followed his gaze to the two young boys. “What about you, Daddy Damon, it seems you’ve been busy. Who is he?”

“You know Clayton,” Damon returned knowing all too well that she hadn’t meant him. Callie just gave him a look, knowing when her brother was avoiding the issue, she didn’t need to say anything, Damon just rolled his eyes. “His name is Harry but anything else is for Fenrir to share; sorry, Sis.” As he said this he threw his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze, placing a kiss to her temple fondly. It really was good to be back with his pack.

FGHP

Draco sat picking at his breakfast absent-mindedly, thinking of anything but being back at Hogwarts. Pansy and Blaise were chattering incessantly away beside him; Daphne was reading one of her school textbooks opposite him, as she tended to do rather than getting involved in the gossip mongering of the other two.

He wasn’t hungry, or at least he had no appetite, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of his family and the unwelcome residence in their home. He should have been there with his mother, making sure she was safe, not here on some suicidal mission from the Dark Lord.

Dumbledore, it seemed, was still absent, he noted. It had been more conspicuous at the welcoming feast the previous evening, when McGonagall had had to give his usual speech; she didn’t have any flare for speech giving and the whole thing had felt rather lacklustre. It puzzled him what business could have been important enough to take the headmaster away from Hogwarts when to Draco’s knowledge he had never before been absent from a welcoming feast before. For some strange reason Albus Dumbledore took great pleasure in watching the new students be sorted into their houses, something everyone else found tediously dull.

When Pansy and Blaise fell silent beside him, something that was a rare occurrence, he looked up and noticed that everyone’s attention had been captivated by the commotion at the entrance of the Great Hall, where the doors had burst open rather dramatically. The headmaster striding purposefully the length of the room with a less than happy expression on his face. In fact Draco didn’t think that he had ever seen the elderly wizard look as sour or discontented as he did right then. He strode to the front of the hall where the teachers table resided and spoke directly to Minerva in hushed tones as he took his seat beside her.

Whatever was going on, neither of them looked impressed about it. The students were just about returning to their own business when there was a small, throat clearing cough, that was loud enough to carry over the few conversations that had started up again. All eyes returned once more to the entrance to the Great Hall, where a small toad-like woman stood, dressed all in pink with a hideous bow perched on the top of her head, smiling a sickly sweet smile. She looked far too pleased with herself, a look of smug contentment on her hideous features. Behind her stood one witch and a wizard, both dressed all in black. Draco recognized them as the Carrows, siblings and both of them Deatheaters.

Everyone had stopped eating by this point. The entire student population were all now staring at the woman who, flanked by her intimidating bodyguards, began walking toward the headmaster. In her hand an official looking scroll of parchment. She walked with an air of self-importance that Draco didn’t like one bit. There was something about the odious woman that he didn’t trust. Whatever was going on wasn’t going to bode well for the school and by the looks of it, Albus Dumbledore was thinking the exact same thing.

What concerned Draco the most, were the two Deatheaters that flanked the official looking woman. Clearly they were here on orders from Voldemort, or at least with his approval. It made Draco wonder why he had been given his mission at all if Tom Riddle had intended all along to interfere at Hogwarts in other ways. Though perhaps they were here to watch over him, as much as the school and the headmaster, which was an even more alarming thought. Whatever the reasons, the Dark Lord didn’t seem to trust him or have faith in him being able to complete his mission without aid.

Albus never took his eyes off the woman as she approached, her sickening, and obviously forced, smile never faltering. The Carrows remained grim faced as they followed in her wake, disapproving of their role in this facade.

“Who do you think she is?” Pansy asked almost excitedly, eyeing the very pink woman with heightening interest. To her, anyone who could rile the headmaster was someone to look up to and admire.

“Looks official,” Blaise said, “Ministry maybe?”

Draco said nothing. If his ‘friends’ didn’t know enough to figure out what was going on then he wasn’t going to make it any easier for them. Their stupidity amazed him sometimes. Far more interested in gossiping than noticing what was right in front of them. They were only a slight improvement than the grunting Crabbe and Goyle. Daphne remained silent too, she hadn’t even looked up from her book to see what all the fuss was about, something Draco greatly admired about her.

Waiting, Draco watched as the toad-like woman handed the scroll over to the headmaster; the atmosphere in the Great Hall became uneasy as the students watched with baited breath. Albus unrolled the parchment with agonising slowness, all the students waiting tensely as he read the contents with an increasing look of distaste. Dumbledore seemed to have gone slightly rigid as he took in the words written there and though Draco did not usually side with the headmaster on a great many things, anyone against the Dark Lord had his support, at least momentarily.

“It seems that we have an addition to our staff,” Dumbledore said, a false smile gracing his lips. He had too much on his mind to concern himself with the Ministry official. “Dolores Umbridge will be joining us from the Ministry of Magic as our High Inquisitor.”

Dumbledore was not a man who like to have his hand forced, on the contrary, he liked to be in control of everything. To be handed some parchment that declared that to go against this woman meant a spell in Azkaban did not sit well with him in the least. It seemed however that he would have no choice. If he hadn’t had other things on his mind then perhaps he would have had the mental capacity to challenge this, to protect his precious school. However, as it was, he needed to concentrate on Harry Potter and the damned horcruxes that Tom had created.

Umbridge could be dealt with later, she mattered very little in the grand scheme of things. If Voldemort was behind her turning up here, which Albus suspected that he was, then there wasn’t much he could do until they revealed their hand, then he could act accordingly. To openly defy the ministry, when so much of the wizarding world remained oblivious to the Dark Lord’s control there, would only complicate things further and potentially compromise his position as headmaster. After the death of Neville and Ginny his position was already precarious. Losing his title of headmaster of Hogwarts was not something he could ever allow to happen. However he felt certain that it was no coincidence that Umbridge was here just as he had managed to locate the true boy-who-lived and had formed plans to have him attend Hogwarts; even if he hadn’t identified the connection as of yet. Albus Dumbledore didn’t believe in coincidences.

Draco frowned at the announcement the headmaster had made. High Inquisitor sounded like some bogus made up crap to him. It was clear however that Dumbledore was having his arm twisted. Whatever the parchment had contained had stopped him from kicking the Umbridge woman and her Deatheater cronies out of the castle without a second thought; which honestly was what Draco had been anticipating. Shame, he thought to himself, seeing the Carrows and some ministry hag forced from the castle might have brightened what was looking to be a rather miserable day.

On top of that the fact, that they were being allowed to stay did not sit well with him or the plan that he had. Fixing the cabinet in the Room of Requirement was supposed to be an escape route for his mother and soon to be born little brother. Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe haven but apparently not, it seemed that even the school was going to fall. He was starting to think that there was no where left that they would be able to run. His mother held out hope that there was still a boy-who-lived out there someone, ready and waiting to save the day. Draco couldn’t hold that foolish hope however, he was under no delusion. There was no hero waiting in the wings ready to ride in and save the day. If he wanted to survive this and keep the family that mattered to him safe then he was going to have to figure out how on his own. Lacking a better plan he would continue on the path he was on and find the cabinet and fix it.

Not desiring to bear witness to this scene any longer, now that the potential for entertainment or useful information had passed, he got to his feet. His friends querying where he was going but Draco paid them no mind. He had no interest in their inane questions. He was aware of the control that Voldemort had over the Ministry, even if the rest of the wizarding world still remained oblivious to it. Tom was getting closer to taking control of Hogwarts and if that happened he had no idea if there would be any hope for the side of the Light.

He thought of his mother, who had put so much faith in Severus Snape and the baby he disappeared with. She thought that that child could save them all. Draco held no such optimism; he couldn’t understand why they would rest their hopes on some boy. Harry Potter, if he could even be found, would, after all, only be the same age as he was. All Draco could afford to think of was surviving and ensuring that his mother and baby brother lived through this as well. He didn’t care about the rest of the world, the Dark Lord could curse it all for all he cared, as long as he could protect his family. Lucius however could suffer with the rest of the world, as could his lunatic of an Aunt for all he cared, his sympathy for her only stretching so far.

He took his leave from the Great Hall, not looking back, instead heading straight down to the dungeons. He intended to write to his mother at once and inform her of the developments at the school. They could tell each other nothing of substance just in case the letters were ever intercepted or discovered but at least he could inform her of what was going on. If he told her about Umbridge and the Carrows she would understand how concerned he was about Voldemort not trusting him, she would be able to read between the lines. At least he hoped that she would be able to.

Hogwarts was not going to be a pleasant place for anyone to be this year. The sooner he could escape, and take his mother and brother with him, the better. This world didn’t need a hero, it needed a damn miracle now. No one person could save them now, no matter how great he was supposed to be.

FGHP

Following their catch up session Callie and Damon joined the others around the fire. It was a little awkward given that it was really up to Fenrir to introduce them all, but Damon was able to figure out who most of them were, easily putting the names to faces thanks to everything his sister had told him in the correspondence they had managed over the years. The information had also been relayed to Clayton who had loved the letters from his Aunt. It was Harry that everyone was really curious about.

Things were uneasy seeing as with the addition of three new wolves the hierarchy of the pack had fallen into disarray and it needed to be re-established. Damon sat and waited for Fenrir to make the first move in this regard and while he waited he surveyed the two young boys. He had never seen Clayton and Harry so quiet and at peace when together. It was perhaps a sign of how shaken up the two of them were by the whole ordeal.

It took little more than an hour before Fenrir was unable to put off explaining any longer. He had become increasingly agitated over that time, as his pack scented just how unique Harry was and started whispering amongst themselves; wondering how he had come to be brought here. Micha was particularly interested in the little submissive wolf.

Micha’s reaction to the stranger they had met in town two days ago had shown Fenrir that he was certainly interested in men, which meant he would no doubt be interested in Harry too, after catching his scent. The Alpha was going to make it perfectly clear exactly whom Harry belonged to and he was going to have to assert that dominance over him fairly quickly. Until he did Fenrir was aware that Harry was technically fair game; not that he thought any members of his pack would be stupid enough to try something.

The two teenagers hadn’t moved more than inch since they had sat down in front of the fire. Damon had draped some of the animal hides around the two of them to ensure that they were warm in the chilly early September weather and Fenrir was distinctly aware that his little mate had been silently crying.

The Alpha hadn’t gone to Harry, as he had wanted to though, as he wasn’t entirely capable at dealing with tears; they were not a sign of emotion that he was accustomed to or entirely comfortable with. It hadn’t taken long for Harry to cry himself to sleep, while resting against Clayton and the older of the two teenagers was obviously more than content to remain sat, unmoving and let his friend get the rest he so desperately needed.

Fenrir took the opportunity while Harry dozed to gather his pack around the fire and attempt to explain what was going on, though he had no desire to share with them who Damon suspected the boy was. It wasn’t their business if he was Harry Potter or a sodding Hippogriff. Fenrir had chosen to wait until his mate was asleep to explain because he didn’t want to scare him with what he had to say to the rest of the Pack. Harry didn’t need to know what he was going to tell the rest of them just yet.

The entire pack all looked to the Alpha expectantly as he stood up, ready to talk to them. Jenson sat with Callie nestled between his legs, one of his arms wrapped around her protectively and the other around Romy who was at their side. Micha had taken a seat closer to Clayton and Harry but positioning himself so that he would have a good view of the raven haired teenager who rested so peacefully. The Alpha and Damon both remained standing; the beta wolf just slightly behind Fenrir like a bodyguard, glaring at his sister’s boyfriend, his position as second command settling easily in the minds of the others just by the position they stood in.

"That's Damon, that's Clay, they've been in the pack since the start, they were charged with watching Harry, he's mine; you do not touch him, you do not bother him. You protect him; that is all. He is mine!" Fenrir had motioned to each of the pack mates as he had mentioned them before casting a fond glance over Harry, which he ensured did not linger too long on the sleeping teenager. “He was raised by wizards and will not be accustomed to pack life so he may need time to … adjust. You will help him do this.”

The pack members were all too used to Fenrir and his bluntness for the way he spoke to bother them. They took it in their stride, accepting the rather poor introductions that were offered by their Alpha; now that it had been covered they could figure out the rest amongst themselves. They were just happy that he had said anything to them about it at all, Fenrir wasn’t known for his way with words.

Micha, who had been unable to take his eyes from Harry, heeded the intended warning that they had all been given and turned his attention away from the slumbering teenager. This new Harry kid was attractive and he couldn’t help the envy he had felt when he had watched him curl up next to the other teen but with the Alpha’s warning, he knew he would have to put such ideas behind him and move on. What he didn’t know was that his jealous feelings were not that different from those Fenrir was battling with.

The Alpha would never admit to these feelings, of course, nor would he show any outward sign of them; he was too proud for that and he had enough common sense to know that Clay was no real threat in competition for Harry’s affections. Even if Damon hadn’t assured him that the two boys were just friends he would have known this.

Fenrir could not shake of the thought of his mate being Harry Potter, despite his insistence to his beta that it didn’t matter. Though even Damon had to admit that this was not a sure thing; they didn’t have any evidence of it being true. But he had an uneasy feeling in his gut that they would soon find out one way or another, and his gut was rarely ever wrong on these matters.

Though if the boy was meant to be dead then surely no one could come looking for him. Even the man who had raised him, pretending to be his father, was supposedly gone now. The teenager had no one else, except for the pack. They were his family, as Fenrir had always intended them to be. Harry wouldn’t need anyone else in his life. If someone did come looking for him then Fenrir was determined that he would protect what was his at all costs; he would kill anyone that dared try and take it from him. He wouldn’t lose another mate, not for any reason.

FGHP

It was a very strange sensation being levitated and Black was not exactly being careful about it either. It felt particularly odd because he had no control at all over any muscle in his body. That horrendous spell that Dumbledore had cast had left him without a scrap of control and at the mercy of those around him. He already loathed it. However not having control over his own body was not what bothered him the most.

It was the feeling in his chest that infected the very core of him. It seemed to absorb happiness, destroying every good feeling he had. He clung desperately to the memories he had of Harry, knowing that no amount of spells or curses would ever rid him of these but they were becoming harder to remember all ready. It was as if no joy or contentment could survive inside of him anymore. His heart swelled with the love he felt for his son, the need to protect him at any given cost but even that, he could feel it starting to ebb. Soon he would have nothing left.

Wherever he had been taken it was dark, grimy and miserable; not that he could see much more than the tops of the walls and the ceilings; but even the musty smell that had greeted his nostrils alone would have made him detest the place. The fact that Dumbledore was having him moved at all was extremely worrying, it implied an intent to keep him around for some time and if this was the state they intended to keep him in, then Severus was not looking forward to the coming months. Sorrow and fear slowly replacing any compassion or desire he had had. Sapping his last remnants of hope from him. The spell acted fast, it couldn’t have been more than a day since he had been placed under the curse.

He thought of Harry, wondering if he had been able to get away; fearing that at this very moment he could be being manipulated by the elderly wizard, who always seemed to believe that he was acting for the greater good of all wizard kind. In actual fact, Severus was sure that he simply had delusions of grandeur. However thinking bitterly of the old man would not help him now. None of his thoughts would help him now. He was at the mercy of Sirius Black and there was no one here to hold him back.

“Oh look at your lovely new home, Snivellus,” Black’s irritating voice mocked, relishing in the torment he could deliver to his childhood rival on a whim. “This room used to be my father’s office. It has such… fond memories for me,” he said with blatant sarcasm. “Destroying his precious desk was fun though, admittedly.”

Severus would have rolled his eyes, if he had been able to; the man’s ramblings were going to drive him insane quicker than the damned spell the headmaster had cast. He wouldn’t actually put it passed Dumbledore to have foreseen that and arranged his prison guard accordingly. Though, he thought, it better that Black be here with him than out there with Harry. The man had spent far too much time in the company of dementors; Severus didn’t want him anywhere near his son.

“I was picturing your face when I blasted the desk to pieces, you know,” Sirius informed him, it was the only way I could keep myself from slitting your throat for what you have done to my godson. But I promised Dumbledore that I would keep you alive … for now.”

Severus was twisted in the air, until he was righted again and then manoeuvring into a chair, his limbs being bent viciously to the will of Black. He couldn’t see his deranged captor, who was presumably behind him. Being unable to turn his head to watch the demented lunatic was making him anxious; not that his nerves weren’t already completely on edge from the whole experience. He doubted he would be able to feel anything by the time this was over and he dreaded losing the love he felt for Harry and even Lily.

He had no choice but to stare at the faded and peeling wallpaper in front of him and already he was wishing he had been turned a few degrees to his right, so that he could at least have passed a little time reading the titles from the shelves of the books that he could just about see from the corner of his eye. At least that way he might have been able to escape his own mind for a short period of time. He had read a lot about being around dementors, he knew all the techniques that the books advised upon. Focus on facts not emotions, distract the mind. The effects of the spell seemed disturbingly similar to the fear, sadness and horror that the dementors ignited. He needed to stay strong or make the choice to give up and allow his body to slowly cease to function. Already the latter was a tempting option, but he wouldn’t want Harry to see him like that; a broken man, unable to love.

He was vaguely aware of Black speaking again, but given it would likely be more of the same taunts and mocking jeers that he had been hearing his whole life, Severus made a point to ignore him. He wasn’t desperate enough to distract himself with anything Sirius Black had to say, at least not yet. Though he feared that he would be desperate enough sooner rather than later.

Seemingly as punishment for not paying attention, though how Sirius could have known was beyond Snape, a fist hit him in the side of the head. Unable to control his own body he fell from the chair, hitting the floor with a resounding crash, his arms and legs at awkward and uncomfortable angles that had Black laughing uncontrollably. Anger and humiliation flooded through Severus as he lay on the floor, unable to move. Hatred for Black made him want to scream, as a kick was delivered to his ribs. What kind of a coward was this pathetic excuse for a wizard to beat a man unable to defend himself? It wasn’t much of a comforting thought but it was the best he had as the blows continued to fall.