The Lambs

Sep-26-2008:
Today, Friday, and tomorrow, Saturday, are my days off this week, but somehow I managed to get coerced into working both days. I also have a load of stuff to do for college, but I will try and have this chapter up for Sunday at least (though I’m working then as well, and Monday by the way).

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Words: 6,314
Chapter 8
Growing Pains
October 26th 1998. Draco’s letter.

Dearest Harry,

‘The throne room was full to the brim. Everywhere I looked, there was a face, pale and expressionless, staring back at me. The dais was empty save for two throne-like chairs. Each were larger than the ones King James and Queen Lily sat upon, and one had the skinned coat of a black bear draped across it.

The room was silent. It was as if the gathered crowd were too afraid, or too anxious, to speak. They seemed to be waiting, for something, anything, to happen. Simultaneously, every person in the room drew it a deep breath of air as the doors to the throne room burst open. Silhouetted by the moon light, which streamed through from outside, a large black wolf hovered in the doorway. His emerald green eyes, an unusual colour, surveyed the room. They held the eyes of a select few individuals for a moment at a time, until each of those important people gave the wolf a bow or a nod of respect. And then the eyes landed on me.

I dropped to my knees, my arms thrown onto the ground before me, as if begging the wolf to come to me, to come into my embrace. He came towards me, and I knew it was a ‘him’. Just as I knew him. “Harry,” I whispered, and the black wolf titled back his head and howled.

And echoing howl answered him, coming from outside. I half expected someone, something, else (another wolf perhaps?), but instead a red headed man walked through the door. He was around twenty-eight or –nine, very tall and broad shouldered, and I knew him as well.

“Bill,” I breathed, surprised. My eyes widened as he walked to one of the thrones on the dais. He sat down in the chair that remained uncovered by the animal pelt. Someone scurried over to him, and I recognized her as the old Queen Lily. The red haired woman placed a crown upon Bill’s head, her crown; the one she had always worn. It was thin and silver, almost entirely feminine and it fit rather too snugly around the Weasley’s head. The wolf looked towards it’s mate and I looked towards the wolf.

Harry barely paid me any mind. He lopped towards the stage, and jumped up onto it, eyes looking straight ahead. He sat in his throne, still as a wolf, and Lily placed his father’s crown on the wolf’s head. This crown was larger, thicker as well, and made from solid gold. It had a large ruby embedded in its centre and the weight of it made the wolf dip his head for a moment. Harry howled once more, and then changed back into a man. The crown remained on his head. Silently, Harry hid his nakedness beneath a corner of the fur pelt, pulling it half out from under him and tucking it over his thighs. As a human, the simple gold band was easily spotted on his ring finger. I dared to raise my head enough to check Bill’s hand. A similar ring rested upon his finger also.

Harry spoke: “I am King Harry of Hogwarts. I am the leader of The Lambs.” His voice was loud and clear, and when he spoke everyone made sure that his or her eyes were riveted on him. He calmly gazed about the room, and then slowly rose to his feet. “Is there anyone here who contests my right?” And in his throne room, no one spoke out against him. In fact, each expressionless face suddenly seemed more joyful, and as one each Elemental screamed and cheered, but I remained prostrated on the floor, tears falling down my face as I waited for a forgiveness that never came.’

I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?1

If I knew that, I suppose I wouldn’t be asking you. But I think it’s rather obvious. I know one thing for certain though, and that is that it means you have to come home Harry! We all miss you, so very much. You aren’t in trouble, and no body hates you. In fact that King has declared that you are to remain unharmed as long as you don’t cause a conflict yourself. Please come home, I don’t know what else I can say, but that, to convince you. So I’ll say it again, come home, Harry.

You, for obvious reasons, cannot bring Fenrir with you. Maybe that was why Bill was your husband? You know, I don’t actually know whether Werewolves get married. Uncle Severus says Lupin certainly never married. Well, I suppose you could be the first one! Of course, you do realize that if you married Bill and ascended the throne you would be bound, by honour and marriage, blah, blah, to allow Charlie back into Hogwarts. Maybe that was why I dreamt you together, or maybe it was because the thought of you and that monster together just plain sickens me. I know you said he wasn’t like we thought, but damn it Harry! Do you know what he sent your parents? And no, it wasn’t body parts, honestly. But nonetheless, he already has you and he gloats? How cruel can one person be!

Come home, please, Harry.

And leave Greyback behind. You don’t have to marry Bill, I swear it, but come home alone.

I miss you Harry. I know I keep saying it but I do. And I honestly cannot believe that this isn’t even a little bit my fault. You asked me for forgiveness for what you said to me, for blaming me. Well I’m begging you for forgiveness. This is my fault Harry, not yours, and there will never be anything I can do to make it up to you. But know this.

I will always love you. You are my best friend, my confidant, my brother, and everything else I will ever need from one person. I could never hate you. I am incapable.

Come home.

Draco.

Harry was frowning by the time he finished reading Draco’s letter. Charlie was standing silently beside him, gazing away from the dark haired wolf. Harry’s knuckles turned white as he clenched the sheet of paper tightly. Green eyes searched the tree line, finally landing on the black owl that nervously waited for a reply, well out of their reach.

“Hades,” Harry called, and then added a short whistle.

Hades flew down out of the tree and landed on Harry’s outstretched arm. The owl snapped its beak in Charlie’s direction, then turned its head to face Harry and waited for directions.

“Go back to Draco. There will be no reply.” Harry raised his arm slightly and the owl shot off into the air. In seconds, the bird was out of sight for normal eyes, but Harry watched him fly just that much farther.

“No reply?” Charlie gave a small chuckled. He had followed Harry when the brunette had first noticed the owl, because he thought it might have been a letter from Bill. There was no letter for him, but he was finding Harry’s reaction to his own letter amusing enough to make up for it. “Did you not like something he wrote?”

“Apparently, he dreamt that I was King of Hogwarts-”

Charlie cut in: “isn’t that what you want?”

Harry shot his a scathing glare and carried on as if Charlie hadn’t even spoken. “And apparently I was married to Bill.” The red head gave a snort at that, then lost the fight to contain his laughter. He chuckled loudly, ignoring Harry’s irritated glances.

“Are you saying there is something wrong with my brother?” Charlie mock glared, when he finally stopped laughing. His hands were on his hips and he tapped one foot off the ground. He grinned.

“Oh, there is plenty wrong with your brother. He’s straight; he’s not Fenrir; he’s related to an idiot, namely you; he’s not Fenrir, to name just a few.”

An arm snaked around Harry’s waist from behind. Warm lips pressed against the junction between Harry’s neck and his shoulder and a soft chuckle sent tingles up the younger man’s spine. “It is nice to know you aren’t planning to run off and leave me, love.”

Harry turned. Fenrir grinned down at him, his lips pulled back to expose some very sharp teeth. Harry leant forward and pulled him into a kiss, uncaring that one of Fenrir’s eyeteeth nipped his lip. Fenrir licked the blood away, giving a low moan at that taste before he grabbed Harry’s hips and pulled the younger man flush against him.

“See, now why would I leave someone who could kiss like that?” Harry said while panting. His heart was pounding, and his cock was hard, but he ignored the discomfort. “No,” he said to Charlie. “I’m not replying. When Bill comes, he’ll bring Draco.” Harry took a deep breath and smiled happily as Fenrir took hold of one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. “This conversation needs to be had face-to-face.”

“You’ve been invited back?” Fenrir asked, picking up on their topic of conversation.

“You were wrong.” The silver haired man raised an eyebrow. “You said they’d never have me back, and you were wrong.”

“Well, then I gracefully retract my statement, and ungracefully beg you not to consider.” Fenrir gave a roughish grin, but Harry thought he knew him well enough to know that Fenrir was scared. He thought Harry might actually leave.

“I’m not going back.”

“It’s your home.” Charlie said softly.

Harry grinned and shook his head. He took hold of Fenrir’s hand, and the elder wolf pulled the boy into a hug. “No,” he said over Fenrir’s shoulder, “home is where the heart is.”

That was as close as Harry had ever gotten to saying he loved his mate, and it made Fenrir happy enough that he threw his head back and howled. Some of the other werewolves that had been walking past or hovering around all began to howl in sync with their Alpha. Except one.

Bellatrix Lestrange narrowed her eyes at Harry, and her mouth turned down into an ugly sneer. Her fist clenched and unclenched at her side and her mate looked over at her worriedly as she let out an angry snarl. Rudolphus hesitantly touched her shoulder, but she threw his arm off. With another angry growl she stalked out of the clearing, walking straight past the Alpha and his mate. Harry looked up as she passed and he flinched back from the hate-filled glare she shot him as their eyes meet. He resisted the urge to whimper as he recognized her as the wolf whose thoughts had tortured him so much before Fenrir had taught him to shut them out. Bellatrix Lestrange really hated him, and he didn’t know why.

Rudolphus watched her go, and he felt his heart clench in fear. The way Fenrir was scowling at her back left no doubt that he was most sincerely annoyed with her for her treatment of Harry, and Rudolphus wasn’t unconvinced that his mate was jealous enough to actually try to rid herself of the competition. The dark haired man watched the Elemental-wolf and he frowned. That boy made Fenrir happier than the Alpha had ever been, and after eighteen years of trying to get hold of him, Rudolphus doubted that Fenrir would just let him go, or get hurt, without a fight.

He was afraid for Bellatrix, though, despite the fact that she did not love him and that she wished she had never mated with him. Despite the fact that she loved Fenrir Greyback, he knew his mate would die if she dared attack the Alpha’s mate, and that scared him. Because he loved her.

XXX

November 11th 1998.

Ginny Weasley watched them with her eyes narrowed. Her brother was always going off with that Malfoy boy. She honestly hated the blond, for he was always with Harry. When Harry was around her brothers he included her in their conversations and games, but if Draco was in the room, then there was no one else but Draco. Harry just didn’t see her when the blond was around, and Ginny hated it.

But now it seemed as if Draco had moved on. Every few days the two would disappear together to write letters to Harry and Charlie, but since Ginny didn’t know that, she assumed they had become lovers, and were too embarrassed or ashamed to let anyone know. She snorted. If Draco was gay then it definitely explained why he was always around Harry. Not that it mattered of course, because Harry was straight and he was in love with her anyway, she reminded herself.

She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. If Bill wanted to lower himself to touch that blond scum then that was his own business. But she certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell their mother. She walked away from the window and plopped down onto the sofa. Molly Weasley walked into the room and smiled at her only daughter.

“Hello dear, where’s Bill?”

“Don’t know,” she said, even as her eyes strayed to the window.

With a frown, Molly walked over and pulled back the curtain. By that time both boys were out of view.

Bill chuckled softly as he led Draco into the woods behind The Burrow. “You know Ginny thinks I’m fucking you?”

Draco snorted, “Why would she think I bottomed?”

Bill grinned at him and punched him on the shoulder lightly. “Why would anyone think I bottomed?” He raised an eyebrow, but instead of blushing Draco just narrowed his eyes until Bill looked away. “OK,” Bill conceded, “if anyone asks, you are fucking me, happy?”

“Exceptionally.” Draco said with a drawl.

“Are you ready to go?” Bill asked quietly. With a silent nod Draco reached forward to take one of Bill’s hands. The red head pulled them deeper and deeper into the woods. The Burrow was on the very edge of Hogwarts, just inside the wall, and the woods in that area had been too dense to cut down when the wall was built, so they had been walled inside of Hogwarts. The two men came to the wall after a few minutes of walking, and Bill reached out a hand to rub over the stones.

“What are you doing?”

“There are three loose stones on this part of the wall. I always take them out and use the gaps as foot holds, then climb over the wall. No one ever watched this side of Hogwarts because the forest is too thick to see through.”

“Why didn’t Greyback-?” Draco stopped as Bill dropped a brick by his foot.

“Harry’s scent wouldn’t have been thick enough with all these trees. He was always more focused on breeching the wall as close to Godric’s Hollow or your Manor than anywhere else.”

“How do we get back inside?” Draco asked once the last two bricks were out of the wall.

“There’s a birch tree that practically grew just so we could climb up it. It’s right opposite us, when we’re at the top of the wall, and when you sit on it the birch always leans towards the wall. It’s a little bit like having an organic ladder in your back garden.” He gave a chuckle and climbed up the wall almost effortlessly.

Draco gave a soft laugh. “One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.”2 The blond looked up at the wall just as Bill swung himself over and climbed into the birch tree.

“What was that?” The red head asked from the other side, as Draco began to work his way higher up the wall. Bill hadn’t done the climb effortlessly; he had just had a lot of practise, as Draco quickly learnt.

“Some poem Mione read to me once.” He grunted as he fell and landed on his arse. With a scowl he tried again, and this time managed to reach the top of the wall fairly quickly. He leant over, and cursed. “I thought you said the tree was close to the wall?”

“I said it leant closer to the wall if someone was in it,” Bill said with a grin.

Draco cursed again.

XXX

November 11th 1998. Two hours later.

It had been almost four months since Harry was infected, and two weeks less since his first transformation, but Charlie had to admit that Harry had taken to being a Werewolf very well. Of course that wasn’t to say Harry was happy he was a wolf, nor that he was even fully embracing the wolf part of himself. But rather, what Charlie meant, was that Harry had already learnt how to completely block out all of the thoughts of all of the other wolves bar Fenrir. Though, on occasion, he chose to ignore the Alpha as well. Harry had also learnt how to change between his human and wolf forms almost effortlessly. Many werewolves were too weak to change without the aid of the full moon, but Harry was certainly not one of them.

Charlie watched the smallish black wolf race out ahead of him, before skidding to a stop and sprinting back again. A little pink tongue poked through the wolf’s lips, past the producting fangs and the wolf’s nose twitched as amber-green eyes looked up at his own amber eyes.

Harry’s eyes had already begun to turn back to their original colour. Charlie had been a wolf since he was ten-years-old and his eyes were still mostly amber, except for the ring of chocolate brown around the outside of his iris’. It was very weird, but he supposed it just further proved the fact that Harry belonged with them. Harry was just meant to be one of them.

The wolf gave a yip, fed up of being ignored. It was a week before the next full moon and the younger members of their pack were always slightly more spirited at this time. It generally made up for the fact that they were always so exhausted for the week following the full moon. Harry didn’t seem to suffer after the full moon either. Not any more. He was the only one apart from their Alpha who was so little affected by the transformation.

Harry playfully tugged on Charlie’s trousers with his teeth. The red head was just about to give in, transform and play for a while when Bill and Draco walked into the tiny clearing.

The area they were in was only about three trees wide, but it was enough room for the four of them to stand, or sit, comfortably. It was the same place Bill always met with Charlie. As soon as he noticed them, Harry changed back. Naked, but unconcerned, he launched himself at Draco. The blond was slightly startled but he caught Harry and clung tightly to him, his face pressed against the raven-coloured hair.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, his voice shaky.

“Love you,” Harry mumbled against his friend’s neck.

They drew apart and Harry hurriedly pulled on the trousers he had discarded earlier. “How have you been?” He asked. Bill and Charlie had wandered a little bit away from them. They would both still be able to hear what was said, just as they could hear the two red heads, but it was only polite to at least give the impression of privacy.

“I’ve missed you.” Draco repeated. “Why won’t you come home?”

“This is my home now.” Harry spoke softly but with conviction. The blond’s eyes closed and his lips pressed together into a thin line. He tried to smile, but Draco knew it looked more like he was wincing in pain, so he stopped.

“How can this be your home?” Draco whispered. He took a step closer to his friend, his hands gripping Harry’s shoulders. “Your home is with us, with me, at Hogwarts. This place isn’t a home, Harry.”

“No, it wasn’t, not at first. But it is now Draco. They aren’t bad people, you know. Truly, I haven’t spoken to most of them, but the ones I do talk with are nice, good people, to whom bad things have happened. But they’ve made it so this curse is actually a good thing, a blessing if you will. It gave some of them a family or a home, and just like with them it’s become a home for me as well.”

“IT IS NOT YOUR HOME!” Draco screamed, his fingers digging in to Harry’s shoulders, the nails piercing the skin.

“I love him, Draco.” The brunette breathed softly, the words barely more than air caressing Draco’s ears, but he heard every word.

“You love me, and your parents, and Sirius.” There were tears on Draco’s pale cheeks, and the blond furiously wiped them away.

“But I need him.”

“You don’t need him.” Draco scoffed. “You’re Prince Harry of the Lambs! You don’t need anyone.” He imitated the condescending tone Harry generally used when he said something similar.

“True.” Harry gave a wry grin and took a step back from the blond. Draco’s hands let go of the other boy’s shoulders, his nails tipped red with blood from wounds that had already closed, and his arms fell uselessly to his side. “But I want to need him, just as I need to want him. He’s my mate and I do love him.”

“Have you told him?”

“No. Not yet.” Harry confessed.

He leant forward on the balls of his feet, his eyes wide. “Will you?”

“Why? Are you hoping that if I haven’t told him he might be more likely to let me leave with you?”

“You know me too well,” Draco confessed softly. His hand moved forwards again, his fingers ghosting over Harry’s cheek and chin. “Please?”

“No Draco. But you are welcome to come see me, you know that, right?”

The blond gave a tense nod. “I hate this. I just hate it so much, Harry. I made a stupid mistake and now it’s as if my life is just crumbling down around me. I’m just standing by, helpless, and watching us grow further and further apart. It hurts, Harry. We’re out growing each other, or maybe it’s you that’s outgrowing me? It pains me to know this is happening.”

“Every one has growing pains, Draco. We did, years ago, do you remember? And each one of us came through it better and stronger than before. These pains, this distance, it is almost like that. At the end of this, when everything settles down and things are almost normal again, we’ll be even closer than we were before, you’ll see. I’m not outgrowing you, Dray, I love you far too much to just leave you behind like that.”

“Love you too,” the blond whispered. “But missing you hurts so much.”

“It will stop hurting soon.” Harry promised.

“When that happens, does it mean that it’s too late to fix this?” Harry didn’t answer. Instead he pulled the blond against him, and the two boys sank to the ground, their arms wrapped tightly around the other.

Fenrir watched them. He stayed silent, opting to punch a tree instead of charging into the clearing to tear the blond away from his mate. He promised himself when he first decided to follow Harry that he wasn’t going to interrupt them. Doubtless Harry already knew he was watching, and that he was angry and jealous, but he had promised himself that he would let Harry have this time with his friend. Fenrir was determined to give Harry this, because it was the least Harry deserved from him.

He watched as Draco pressed an open mouthed kiss to Harry’s cheek, and his nails dug into the trunk of a tree and ripped away an inch thick strip of bark. Green eyes looked up and met his silver ones, and Harry rolled his eyes in amusement before turning to look on the injured tree. Fenrir scowled, his hands curled into fists so as to resist damaging any more vegetation. But he continued to watch his mate until the blond and the red head turned and walked back the way they came.

“Now that wasn’t so bad was it?” Harry teased once Charlie was out of earshot.

“Do you love him?” Fenrir asked suddenly.

“Yes.”

The elder wolf reared back as if he had been slapped. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “Is he your lover?”

Harry gave a small smile. “When I was thirteen I wasn’t quite sure whether I was straight or not. I remember, this one night, after spending most of the day staring at Cedric Diggory’s arse, I finally decided to talk to Draco about it. I asked him: ‘how do you know if you’re gay?’ and Draco said: ‘have you kissed a boy yet?’ and I said I hadn’t. So he told me: ‘the only way to know if you like a boy is to kiss one’. The next thing I knew he was right up in my face and his lips were on mine and it felt as if my entire body was on fire. When he pulled away, I said: ‘so, I’m gay, but not for you’, to which he answered: ‘brilliant because I’m not gay’.” Harry gave a small chuckled, before taking one of Fenrir’s hands in his own. “I remember getting annoyed with him because I thought he was implying I was a bad kisser.”

“You most certainly are not.”

“Thank you.” Harry grinned. “To prove that I was the best kisser ever, and that Draco should have been honoured to be the first person I kissed, I went straight over to Cedric’s house, knocked on his door and waited. When he opened the door, I, god, I practically mauled him, then demanded to know whether or not I was a good kisser.”

“What did he say?” Harry had never mentioned this boy before so Fenrir didn’t really think he had reason to be jealous. Instead he was merely curious.

“He was my first boyfriend. So I think that was a ‘yes’.” He leant forward and pulled the elder man down for a kiss. Their lips moulded together, before Harry opened his mouth and allowed Fenrir’s probing tongue to trace his teeth and tongue. Harry pulled back with a moan. “We should head back.”

“Yes,” Fenrir agreed, “I suddenly feel the need for a nap.” He grinned lecherously at his mate, and was rewarded with a soft blush. Harry ducked his head slightly, as he tried to overcome his reaction to that particular smile. Fenrir smirked as the two of them made their way back to the rest of their pack. Harry remained tucked against his side, one of Fenrir’s arms around his waist.

XXX

November 23rd 1998.

It was two days after the full moons. All three of them had passed without incident, except for that one occasion where Fenrir lost control of his libido and tried to mount his wolf-mate. Of course, Harry would have none of it.

“You can wait until we’re human again, or so help me god, I’ll-”

Fenrir gave him a grin full of teeth and snorted, before butting his head against Harry’s flank. “But I want you now.”

“If your wolf dick comes anywhere near me, I swear I’ll-” Harry’s ear laid flat against his head and he bared his teeth as he snarled. Fenrir circled around him chuckling.

“I get it, I get it. Enough with the threats love.” Fenrir moved closer to his smaller mate, his tongue flicked out to wet Harry’s jowl.

Harry had snarled at him once more, and then lopped away to hide behind Remus. The Beta-wolf was lying on the ground a small distance away, his paw hiding his face just in case Fenrir would be able to tell he was laughing at them. Harry lay down beside him, eyes narrowed at Fenrir. He could feel the tremors racking Remus’ body but he really couldn’t blame the other man.

It wasn’t Fenrir’s fault. It was his. There were plenty of other wolves having sex in their current forms, but in Harry’s mind it was just plain weird. Bestiality was not something he had ever imagined himself trying. The idea made him grimace, but it seemed Fenrir was very into the thought. Harry frowned, “Maybe in time, ok?” He thought quietly.

Fenrir howled.

The two days since had been rather hectic. It was mid-November and the snow was beginning to fall. So Fenrir had arranged a hunting party. All adult dominant wolves, male preferably, were to leave their clearing and find as much wildlife, or edible vegetation, as they could and bring it back for the rest of the pack. It had to be enough to last for most of the winter, because most animals seemed to be harder to find or catch when the cold season began.

Harry had absolutely demanded to go. He refused to be left behind just because he was submissive to Fenrir: he certainly wasn’t submissive to anyone else, so why should Fenrir count? Bellatrix had snarled and raged, demanding that the ‘helpless sub’ remain behind while the ‘big kids’ played. Fenrir had growled at her, but she paid no heed, and continued to taunt the ex-Prince despite her husbands warning.

Harry pounced at her, knocking her to the ground. In the second it took for him to travel across the distance between the two of them, his clothes had ripped open and his body had shifted and morphed and sprouted fur. His fangs glistened with saliva as he opened his mouth above her face and snarled at her.

She bared her throat to him in fear, tensing beneath him.

“Who’s submissive now, bitch?” He growled, making sure she could hear his thoughts. Bellatrix didn’t answer.

She didn’t go on the hunt either.

He and Fenrir hunted alone. The rest of the party had split up and were scouring the forest on either side of them. Some even went on foot to Hogsmeade to buy supplies that couldn’t be found growing wild. Fenrir was known to have a small fortune stashed away somewhere, but Harry had yet to see it or have it confirmed by his mate. Though, the impromptu shopping trip that followed his attack on Bellatrix, and the new clothes he had back at the tent sort of led credence to the rumour.

“Harry?” Fenrir asked, looking at his mate from the corner of his eyes. They walked together, as humans, completely naked.

They had been wolves a few moments ago, just long enough to catch the scent of some deer. The deer were less likely to run from humans, than they were to run from wolves, for some reason. And both Fenrir and Harry were capable of turning in the blink of an eye.

“Yes?”

This was the first time they had been alone together since the full moon. Harry wasn’t much of an exhibitionist, which was unfortunate for Fenrir. “You owe me sex.”

“Yes, thank you for making me feel like a piece of meat,” the boy drawled sarcastically.

“Mmm,” Fenrir moaned as he grabbed Harry and licked the teenager’s neck. “You taste as good as you look, good enough to eat.” His mouth was suddenly against Harry’s and the brunette parted his lips to allow Fenrir’s tongue entrance. With a growl, Harry pressed himself closer to the elder male. Their bodies were flush and Harry could feel Fenrir’s arousal throbbing against his stomach.

The silver haired man pulled away and grinned at his mate. With a smirk, he shoved Harry backwards, so that the boy landed on the ground with a groan. Smirking, Fenrir straddled his mate’s thighs, his cock rubbing against Harry’s cock, and his lips attacked Harry’s bare chest. The brunette hissed and moaned, his fingers tangled in Fenrir’s hair as he tried to pull his mate’s face up to his own. Their lips met briefly, before Fenrir pinned Harry’s hands to the floor and sucked harshly on his collarbone.

“Tell me.” Fenrir begged as he panted against Harry’s neck.

“I want you to fuck me,” Harry said, misunderstanding what Fenrir wanted.

Fenrir shuffled backwards, off of Harry’s legs, and then spread them apart. He then lay between the spread legs, his hipbones pressed into Harry’s inner thighs. Harry raised his legs to lock around Fenrir’s waist. Two fingers probed at Harry’s entrance, circling the tight pucker before pushing past the muscle and into the brunette’s channel. Harry gasped, his back arching off the ground. His head thrashed from side to side as Fenrir stretched him, adding a third finger; he whimpered when Fenrir pulled his hand away.

“Tell me,” he asked again.

Harry opened his eyes wide, meeting Fenrir’s silver ones, and after a moments silence he smiled softly. “I love you,” Harry said, and he meant it.

“I love you too.” Fenrir echoed, before he canted his hips forward, driving himself into his willing mate. Harry screamed, his back arched as he spread his legs wider. They panted as they moved together, their fingers running over sweaty skin before tangling in one another’s hair. Lips met in brief but fierce kisses, before tearing away from each other so they could moan, or pant, or scream.

Pleasure swept over each of them in turn, making them cry out as their orgasm ripped through them. Fenrir came first, his stomach tightening and coiling in anticipation before he released himself within the other man, a low moan leaving his lips as they [pressed soft kisses to Harry’s sweaty neck.

Harry came after him, one hand digging into Fenrir’s shoulder and the other stroking his own throbbing cock. With a shout of “Fenrir” he came hard across his stomach and Fenrir’s chest. The elder man collapsed onto his mate, both of them panting and lightly petting the other as their heartbeats calmed down.

When they had gained control over their breathing, Fenrir rolled off of Harry and looked up. Standing directly beside them, with its head tilted in thought, was a young deer. As Fenrir met the deer’s eyes, it took off at a gallop. Fenrir was on his feet seconds after and giving chase. Harry just laughed, his head thrown back and his hair sweeping out around him like a halo. When Fenrir came back, carrying the deer, and covered in blood and Harry’s semen, the brunette just laughed harder.

XXX

November 26th 1998. Three days later.3

A red headed man walked through the door. He was around twenty-eight or –nine, very tall and broad shouldered, and I knew him as well.

“Bill,” I breathed, surprised. My eyes widened as he walked to one of the thrones on the dais. He sat down in the chair that remained uncovered by the animal pelt. Someone scurried over to him, and I recognized her as the old Queen Lily. The red haired woman placed a crown upon Bill’s head, her crown; the one she had always worn. It was thin and silver, almost entirely feminine and it fit rather too snugly around the Weasley’s head. The wolf looked towards it’s mate and I looked towards the wolf.

Harry barely paid me any mind. He lopped towards the stage, and jumped up onto it, eyes looking straight ahead. He sat in his throne, still as a wolf, and Lily placed his father’s crown on the wolf’s head. This crown was larger, thicker as well, and made from solid gold. It had a large ruby embedded in its centre and the weight of it made the wolf dip his head for a moment. Harry howled once more, and then changed back into a man. The crown remained on his head.

As a human, the simple gold band was easily spotted on his ring finger. I dared to raise my head enough to check Bill’s hand. A similar ring rested upon his finger also. My eyes widened as they strayed to Harry’s stomach. Where it had once been flat and toned, it now producted outwards, rounded, and made him look as if he had swallowed a watermelon whole. The blatantly pregnant King made no attempt to cover his nakedness; instead he seemed content to show off his unborn child to the congregated Elementals.

He stood, slowly pushing himself to his feet, and he spoke. “I am King Harry of Hogwarts. I am the leader of The Lambs.” His voice was loud and clear, and when he spoke everyone made sure that his or her eyes were riveted on him. He calmly gazed about the room, and then slowly rose to his feet. “Is there anyone here who contests my right?”

No one spoke out against him. I remained where I was, prostrated on the floor, while the others cheered. The old Queen Lily, silent and pale, walked towards him.

“Mother?” He asked quietly.

“Abomination,” she hissed at him. Without warning, she ripped James’ crown from Harry’s head. In her hands, the crown changed, lengthening and turning from gold to silver until at last she wielded a sword twice the length of her own arm. With a scream, Lily plunged the silver sword through Harry’s stomach, into the child.

As Harry died, Bill’s skin began to peel away. As the skin melted and shed, Fenrir Greyback emerged from the shell, as if pulling himself free of a cocoon. With a snarl he lunged at Lily, and ripped her throat out.

The child, and Harry were already dead.

Draco woke with a gasp. His sheets were twisted around his legs, and his body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat. He swallowed convulsively, his hands trembling. “It’s a dream,” he told himself. “But a dream, and nothing more.”

XXX


1 – William Blake – “The Angel”.
2 – Robert Frost – “Birches”.
3 – It takes 3 days for conception to occur (the fertilised ovum moving down the fallopian tube and embedding into the uterus wall).

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Sep-27-2008:
Hope you enjoyed that chapter. If I stick to my story outline plan then there will be a big time jump between the end of this chapter and the next chapter. Reviews make me smile… so does slash, but oh well. My power just went, and I lost half the chapter and had to re-write it all…!!

I think I will have to do WHORE 7 soon: I’m starting to get a little too soppy for my own tastes.

Does any one fancy writing me a Boy-In-The-Stripped-Pyjamas/Harry Potter fic? Please? There aren’t any BITSP fics out there, at all, I swear, and I think it would be cute to have Draco as Bruno and Harry as Schmaul. Or I’d settle for a Prince Nuada/Harry fiction (from Hellboy II). Was going to do my own, but that’s not as entertaining as reading someone else’s.