/As a quick author's note (though I hate these normally), the full version of Corruption can be found on my livejournal, link on my author's page. Happy reading./
When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Harry quickly tapped the board before his students could flee.
Half a meter of parchment on the everyday use of charms from chapters 4-6
The students groaned in complaint but Harry ignored them, flicking his wand at the door so it unlocked and let them go. Most everyone left but three students walked up to his desk and waited. When Harry finished putting away the papers the class had turned in earlier, he pointed at the girl on the left, Marta.
"Professor, could you show me how to do the Water Charm again? I haven't been able to perform it correctly yet."
"Same with me," the boy in the middle, Braden, nodded and Harry glanced at the girl on the other end, Wendy, who agreed with her classmates.
Sighing silently, Harry shifted Jonas to his other arm and tapped the board.
Repeat the incantation, one at a time.
Each student said, 'Aguamenti' carefully and without missing the correct inflection on the words. Harry nodded at them and put up an instruction to show him their wand movements. He leaned against the desk as Marta began flicking her wand in the required figure-eight motion, gently correctly the angle of her wrist when she got too enthusiastic with the charm.
It was another half hour before all three could correctly conjure water and Harry dismissed them, satisfied with their spellwork. He absently reached down and checked to see if Jonas was asleep. The four-year-old werewolf's eyes were still closed and his breathing even and light; he had been brought into the pack just a fortnight before when his parents were killed during the full moon and he was turned. The young boy was going through a rough period and was only just now adjusting but he didn't like to be away from a pack member for any time. As Remus was still in Portugal and Fenrir was not the most patient with young children, Jonas spent a great deal of time with Harry during the day. When Autumn or Chelsea, two of the female werewolves who lived on the castle grounds, were around Jonas went with them but they were in Diagon this week working. Harry didn't entirely trust the rest of the permanent pack members to take care of Jonas very well, especially when he was ill and drained from the full moon last night.
Harry stood with a slight wince in his back from carrying the boy around all day. He closed up the classroom and locked it since it was now almost dinner and he had no more classes today. He wanted a hot bath and something to eat, preferably not in the dining hall. All too often when he was there conversation turned into a debate over what to do with the wizards who were resisting Voldemort's rule. Harry hated listening to their ideas, much less having to make suggestions of his own. Unfortunately, as mentioned before, Voldemort was a sadistic bastard who liked to mentally torture the resident Golden Boy, so oftentimes Harry would be required to attend dinner with the others. He much preferred staying with the pack or even just in his own rooms but the choice wasn't always up to him.
Harry was headed for the pack room now, planning on letting Jonas stay with the older children who would be back from lessons by now. Most of the werewolves who lived at the castle had rooms in this one hallway, which ended in a large chamber they had converted to a meeting/gathering room. Harry opened the door quietly, smiling when he spotted the three youngest werewolves, aside from Jonas, sitting together around a tray one of the house elves must have brought. After the full moon they required more energy than normal and it wasn't unusual that they would need to eat an hour before dinner would be served. Harry walked over to their cushions, stepping silently over Carrus and Nathan, two older werewolves who were lounging and enjoying a day off.
"Hello, Harry," Brigitte said softly, scooting over so Harry could sit on one of the large cushions grouped under the window. "How'd he do today?"
Harry carefully unwound Jonas' arms from his neck before setting the boy down to sleep on the cushion next to him. "Slept." He reached for one of the elves' specialties, little meat pastries wrapped in tomato-flavored dough and glanced around. "Fenrir?"
"Alpha was here about an hour ago," said Brigitte, turning back to the dish along with her friends, Warner and Pascal who were more intent on their food than making conversation. "But I haven't seen him since."
Harry decided he could wait to find Fenrir; he really wanted a bath and more food right now. He nodded to Jonas and Brigitte grinned in understanding.
"We'll watch him tonight. Did he eat lunch?" Harry held his fingers close together to indicate it had only been a small meal and the young female clucked, "I'll make sure he eats enough for dinner; Autumn should be back in a few minutes anyway."
Harry stood and waved a little as he left, once again stepping over the snoozing males. Whenever any of the younger lycans were in the room at least one older male stayed with them, just in case. Since most of the older males in the pack patrolled the grounds and trained others in self-defense there was always one or two around to watch the young.
Up another flight of stairs Harry was relieved to reach his room; it was the same one he'd shared with Fenrir since arriving at the castle and despite the lack of luxury it was familiar and comfortable to him. He doubted he would have ever felt really welcome in a fancy room with expensive furnishings and decorations. Right as he entered the scent of his mate surrounded him and Harry involuntarily relaxed a little more.
Sniffing, he grinned and stripped off his clothes as he headed for the bathroom, ignoring the steamed mirror and fluffy towels in favor of the full pool covered with bubbles. He sank into the water carefully as the heat soaked into his legs and back; the pool was deep enough for him to stand upright and still be underwater so he stayed by the edge until he'd gotten used to the heat before sinking up to his neck.
He didn't startle when the water moved on its own and a soapy dark headed popped the surface. Fenrir's hard body slid against his as Harry grinned up at him. "Been waiting long?"
The larger werewolf didn't answer him but pressed Harry back against the side of the pool and soaped up his arms and legs before turning him around and washing his back then his chest. Harry was nearly boneless by the time Fenrir finished cleaning him, glad to float against his mate, limbs limp and soooo grateful for water that magically stayed hot.
When Fenrir bent his head to taste the skin along his shoulder Harry groaned, laying his head against the lip of the pool. He sighed and gasped with every mark Fenrir left on his skin, voice quickly rising to echo around the room as the older werewolf began to work over his body in earnest.
(Edited for Content)
Harry clung to his shoulders as the cleaning potions in the water whisked away any evidence of their desire with a light tingling sensation. He was relieved when Fenrir continued to hold him up against the wall; Harry wasn't sure he could have managed to stay afloat on his own. The bigger werewolf was licking his throat gently, a low, satisfied growl just barely audible as he cleaned away the blood from where he had bitten into the skin. Harry leaned his head back and smiled, knowing his alpha was pleased.
It hadn't taken long to figure out Fenrir liked to hear him scream, beg, moan … anything vocal. Harry very rarely spoke any longer and every sound he made for the bigger werewolf was 'his' as much as Harry himself was. Harry didn't mind, as everything his mate did to make him moan, beg, scream was very, very good.
He opened his eyes from the mild daze he had been in when Fenrir moved away and tugged Harry into the deeper water. The alpha picked up a small bottle as he tipped Harry's head back to wet his hair and started washing the black locks. The smaller male closed his eyes to let his mate clean his face and hair; he took a deep breath before Fenrir pushed him beneath the water to rinse off the soap. Harry didn't bother at all with hesitating or tensing up, he'd grown used to this when Fenrir had taken care of him last year and he knew the older werewolf wouldn't harm him, without a good reason for punishment.
He finally caught scent of the food when he was let up for air and took a deep breath.
Fenrir kissed his throat again and muttered, "Dobby, earlier."
A year or more ago, that news would have made Harry blush to the roots of his hair but now he didn't much care. He was too relaxed and too safe right now to worry about his own house elf seeing him being royally screwed in the bath. And it wasn't like Dobby hadn't popped in when they were shagging before; the strange elf probably knew more about their sex life than anyone else.
Harry floated to the side and waved his hand over the tray, dispelling the charm that kept the food fresh and at the right temperature for hours. Dobby, bless him, knew exactly what to bring Harry: lots of small foods, usually high in fat, and plenty of fresh butter for the hot bread. After a full moon he always needed the extra energy and if you listened to Remus or Fenrir, Harry was still too thin. In fact, food was the only thing the alpha male was willing to postpone sex for – so long as Harry ate.
It was definitely too good to last; Harry polished off more than half of the plate before resting his head against the tiles with a blissed-out sigh. He'd had his favorite foods, the bath was completely relaxing, Fenrir had rogered him good and proper … he knew there was a catch.
"What is it?" he asked, unable to keep the whine out of his voice. He opened one eye and narrowed it at the dark-haired man next to him. "What horrible thing are you buttering me up for?"
A smirk crossed the werewolf's face. "Lord Voldemort requests our presence tonight in the audience chamber."
"Not for dinner?" Harry asked, surprised. "Why?"
Fenrir reached over without looking and wrapped his palm over Harry's throat. He didn't like the younger male to strain his voice too often and even though it was easier to speak in the humid air, Harry decided not to argue. He waited for the answer.
"A few resistants were caught last night on Hogwarts' grounds; they're to be sentenced tonight."
Harry swallowed uneasily. That meant, of course, that he was going to be involved. Last time it had been a couple, no one Harry knew, who had been captured after poisoning several students by tampering with the food from the treat cart on the Hogwarts Express. Harry had been sympathetic to their reasons, but he couldn't condone their methods, especially when the poisons they used were so dangerous. Three first-years had been under treatment for nearly a month … when he'd asked the couple why they hadn't attacked Death Eaters, people who had actually done something wrong, they'd had no answer.
Of course, that might have been because they didn't know who he was and assumed Harry was just another Death Eater. Still, he'd tried to convince Voldemort for a lighter sentence – make them live as Muggles, make them work for Goblins or on a dragon reservation. The Dark Lord had laughed at him and then imprisoned the couple with nothing to eat but their own tainted candies.
Harry knew it was going to be worse this time simply by the treatment Fenrir was giving him now. He pulled the man's hand from his throat and moved to stand in front of him, toes barely touching the bottom of the pool.
"Dean Thomas, Hermione Granger, two Creeveys and the younger Mrs. Weasley."
Harry shivered and didn't try to say anything more. Fenrir muttered something under his breath and tipped Harry's face up.
"Be careful tonight. There's a chance Lord Voldemort might let the Granger girl live, he's heard from you and others how intelligent and resourceful she is. Don't concentrate on the rest."
Harry nodded slightly. He was relieved when Dobby popped back in and broke the heavy silence. The elf looked approvingly at the empty tray as he picked it up and placed another down.
"Master Harry, Dobby is being sent when Master Voldemort is calling for you, once dinner is over."
"Thank you," Harry whispered, conserving his voice now. He knew he'd be using it later.
The elf bobbed and grinned before disappearing with the empty tray. In its place he'd left a plate of bite-sized desserts that Harry started inhaling and Fenrir ignored. He detested sweets.
Harry was in the middle of enjoying a delicious slice of baked apple when Fenrir slid behind him and wrapped his arms around the slender young man. Harry licked his fingers clean and titled his face up, frowning when his mate placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth.
"You'll still taste like sugar," Fenrir murmured, putting his hands on the tile in front of Harry and leaning forward. His hard cock brushed against the taught curve of Harry's arse then slid between as he rocked his hips slightly. Harry dipped a finger into the tiramisu on the plate and sucked it clean, then offered a second dip to Fenrir.
"Try it," he insisted, when the older werewolf grunted and refused to taste the white-and-brown dessert.
Rolling his eyes, he pulled Harry's digit into his mouth and licked. Fenrir raised an eyebrow, considering the creamy taste and slightly bitter flavor.
"Like it?" Harry asked smugly. He yelped in surprise when he was spun around and fain tossed onto the ledge. He gaped at Fenrir as the man tugged him to the edge of the pool and threw his calves over his shoulders.
"Much too sweet," he growled, then bent his head and licked a stripe up Harry's prick.
"Oh, shit. Fen– fucking hell!" Harry cried out as his mate's mouth sank down over his cock, scalding hot, making his hips jerk involuntarily. In an instant his hands were in the older werewolf's hair as he tried to keep from coming too soon. Fenrir didn't let him hold back, lightly squeezing his balls and sliding one then two fingers into his hole. Harry arched back with a particularly vicious jab against his prostate and came with a scream, shuddering into the tight suction around his cock.
He drifted in a daze for long minutes, aware only blearily that splendid mouth had moved to his thighs and hips. When teeth began to get involved he stirred, propping himself up on his elbows and blinking at the hungry lycan standing between his legs. There were faint teeth marks from his navel to his knees, bright red against tan skin and the darker bruises that had been there longer.
He wiggled his toes against Fenrir's back, "Enjoy your dessert?"
He melted again at the growl this produced, offering no struggle as he was pulled back into the water, facing the wall. The broad chest pressed against his back vibrated with the alpha's words.
"I'm not finished with my dessert yet, Coyote."
Harry knew that tone of voice; he started panting almost immediately and spread his thighs.
(Edited for content)
"Master Harry! Master Greyback!" Dobby popped into the room, looking worried. "You's is going to be late! Master Lord Voldemort is calling meeting now!"
Fenrir snarled at the elf and Dobby cowered.
"But Masters, is time, you must be in audience chamber for Master Voldemort…."
Harry gasped and shuddered, trying to get his breath back even as he shakily found a foothold and pulled slightly away from Fenrir. His mate pulled free of his body and snapped at Dobby to get their clothes ready as he moved to the other side of the bath, growling low in his throat. Harry climbed out of the water, arms shaking and still hard as a rock. Before he could think about stroking himself to completion Dobby returned and with a snap of his fingers Harry was dry and ready to dress.
The elf did not dare to do the same to Fenrir when he climbed from the bath, setting his robes to the side and scurrying out. They both pulled on their clothes quickly, heading toward the door to get their shoes. One hand on the doorknob, Fenrir reached over and grasped Harry's cock and balls through his trousers.
"As soon as this is over I want you on your hands and knees for me."
Harry nodded, his prick hardening all over again from where he had begun to go soft. Fenrir shifted his grip to Harry's arm and dragged him down the hall and the stairs.
Guards were posted outside the audience chamber. A few Death Eaters had gathered but were not entering, either waiting or not allowed; Harry and Fenrir brushed past the guards and through the doors without pausing.
Voldemort, sitting with a satisfied laziness on his throne, looked up at their entrance and smiled. Harry hated that smile, the one full of sharp teeth, that he knew meant something he really, really didn't like was about to happen. He focused instead on the others in the room, a surprising small number.
Snape and Malfoy were there, of course. They were essentially Voldemort's hands, keeping the others in line and performing any important task for the Dark Lord; only Wormtail and Rodolfus Lestrange were in the room besides, standing before the throne and apparently making their report.
"Ah, my most loyal werewolves … We have secured a great prize today and it is time we celebrated. Fenrir, you will remain here with me, I have plans you must discuss with Lucius. Severus, take Mr. Potter down to see our guests." He waited until Harry and Snape were almost at the door before calling out. "Oh, and Harry? Remember that your former friends' future depends on their behavior tonight … see that they are not disrespectful to me."
Harry gave him a little sneer which only made the Dark Lord laugh and turn back to the others. Harry repressed the need to vomit at the man's hissing laughter, a sound that made his skin crawl for the sick pleasure in it.
Harry glanced at Snape and found him unusually silent. Normally by this time the dark Potions Master would have made some disparaging remark on Harry's clothes or his attitude, or anything really. In fact, it wasn't until they'd reached the holding cells, which had been built into the same pool where Harry had once been staked, that Snape gave him any attention.
"Potter. I am only going to say this once, and if you ever repeat it, Greyback will not be able to so much as find a piece of you when I'm through. The Creevy's and Mr. Thomas are going to die tonight. There is still a chance for Miss Granger and Miss Delacour if they impress Lord Voldemort. Miss Granger is … a capable witch, despite being too sure of herself and her books. If you can manage to convince her and the French girl not to make themselves look like idiots, they will have a good chance of surviving and becoming productive members of society. If you would like to see either of them greet another dawn, I would suggest you impress upon them the seriousness of the situation."
Harry just stared at Snape, not sure he could manage such a thing. "What were they caught doing?"
Snape led him down the sloping pool floor to where a dozen cells had been magiked into the abandoned pool. "They were caught on the grounds attempting to break into a lower level entrance of the school. From the devices they were carrying and the stories we extracted with Veritaserum, they were planning on destabilizing the entire castle and contaminating the water supply."
Harry considered it, "No actual harm would have come to the students?"
"Aside from a little sickness, no." They had come to the end of the pool, past two guards, where a single large cage held the four former Gryffindors and Fleur. Snape took Harry's wand and told him, "You have a half hour, Potter."
At the sound of Snape's voice the five inside looked up from where they had been sitting together, staring at the floor. When Snape called him 'Potter' all eyes drew to the slim young man who was entering their cell as Snape locked it once again. They hadn't recognized him at first: Harry had grown much taller, he was over six feet now, and with his hair long and tucked behind his ears, it was difficult to compare him to the Boy-Who-Lived. The lightning scar was almost gone, he had gained a lot of muscle from the werewolf bite, and his face had matured.
"Harry!" Dean sat up, then stood, striding over to his former dormmate. "What – we haven't heard about you since …"
"Since last year," Fleur said, accent much softer now. "Why 'ave you come, Harry?"
He looked between Dean, the small Creevy brothers, and the two women. With a deep breath, he explained, "I'm here to offer you a second chance. There is a possibility that you might be spared, if you can learn to obey Lord Voldemort." They all leaned forward to hear his soft voice as he strained to be loud enough.
There was silence in the cell for long moments before Hermione spoke up, her voice soft and sad, "Are you one of his servants then, Harry?"
"Actually, I'm not," he drew aside his cloak to reveal his bare arm, still unMarked after all this time. "But I am a werewolf, and my mate is loyal to the Dark Lord … I've been able to convince him to let the Muggleborns live, they have their own school, where I teach. It's something I can live with."
Tears filled the young woman's eyes and she stood, coming over to gently hug him. "Oh, Harry, I thought … I thought you had really joined him…."
He awkwardly patted her shoulder but stepped away as soon as it was possible, rubbing his shoulder where his Turning scar was twinging uncomfortably. Coyote didn't like to be that close to anyone but his mate. He looked around at everyone and took another breath, "I know this is going against what you believe, but there are only two choices right now. You can be killed or you can accept that Voldemort is going to rule over the wizarding world and try to live in it. I can guarantee you won't like parts of it, but it's not as bad as you might think."
Fleur was the first to speak, frowning at him, "Why did you bite my husband? The Ministry tried to cure him but he went mad, he disappeared months ago. I know it was you that night, the Weasleys saw you."
Harry nodded, "It was me, I was also the one who bit Arthur. I was being punished for … for something I said to Voldemort, and he wanted to get rid of the Weasleys. That was my punishment." He saw her nod and asked, hesitantly, "Where is Ron? What happened to the others?"
Hermione put a hand to her mouth, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a sob. "He was killed, Harry. There was a raid on the village while he was there with Ginny and Ron was murdered … it happened right after the wedding, he was going with her to check your family's house – "
"Those people were never my family," said Harry, softly but firmly. "I'm sorry about Ron, though. What happened to everyone else?"
Hermione wiped away a tear, "Mrs. Weasley and the twins moved to someplace in the United States, New England I think … they couldn't stay here after Ron, Ginny, Bill, and then Mr. Weasley died. Percy, well I suppose you know Percy didn't fight the takeover; he's still working at the Ministry. That's everyone."
"No, what about Charlie?" Harry said, surprised when Hermione gave him a strange look.
Harry blinked at her but Fleur answered. "He left as well, Harry. He went back to his dragons, far away from this war. He Obliviated all of them, except for me. He didn't want any of them contacting him or trying to follow, he couldn't stand it. I believe he's still there."
He nodded after a moment, less affected than he had thought to hear of the Weasley's tragedies. After all, he had known what happened to Ginny, Bill and Arthur, or at least guessed about the men. Except for Ron, he had never been particularly close to any of the others, and he had suspected something happened to Ron when he'd heard nothing of the redhead for over a year now.
"Listen, we don't have a lot of time. Snape's going to be back soon and you're going to go in front of Voldemort. You have to decide now how you want things to go."
"What kind of choice is that?" Colin piped up suddenly, "Of course we don't want to die, but how can you, can any of us live under that monster's thumb?"
"It's not as bad as you think," Harry insisted. "Muggle-born wizards are still allowed jobs, allowed to use magic, they're just not considered high-class. They go to a different school, but they're still taught magic. Voldemort isn't keen on Muggle-borns but he's not trying to exterminate them."
"And what about the rest?" Dean demanded. "We've heard that any kid who shows signs of magic is being taken from their homes. Even babies!"
"That is true," Harry gritted his teeth, "and I don't like it, but it's a necessary evil. Look, not too long ago Voldemort was going to have any magical child killed if they weren't from a magical family. At least they're allowed to live this way."
"But Harry," Hermione protested, "you're – I mean, you're the one who was supposed to have the power to defeat Voldemort! Don't you have your wand? There must be some way you – "
"I can't," Harry said, pointe-blank. "There are a number of reasons, but they're not important right now. Hermione, not everything has changed! Think of it, you could be a teacher, you could help Muggleborn students excel so they can have a chance at being educated at Hogwarts."
She crossed her arms, looking stubborn. "I want to know your reasons."
Harry looked at the others for help but they seemed just as determined as Hermione. He ran a hand through his hair, growling. "I can't Hermione! Have you ever been in his presence? Voldemort isn't just a powerful wizard, he's incredibly talented and he knows more curses and Dark Arts than half of his Death Eaters put together. I wouldn't stand a chance against him!"
"That doesn't mean you shouldn't try!" Hermione snapped. "You would rather submit to his twisted design than fight for what you believe in? Harry, think of your mother!"
"I have," he said, turning to her again. "I've thought of what she did for me … she died so that I would live, not so that I would throw my life away without making any difference. If she had been born now, she would be at school, and knowing her, she'd have gotten to Hogwarts eventually. It's not perfect, Hermione, but nothing ever is."
Fleur stood, brushing off the pants she was wearing. She leveled a dark look at him, "I lost my husband, my father-in-law and my sister-in-law because of you. I do not believe Muggle-borns are in any way inferior to purebloods, and I never will."
Dean backed away from Harry, "I agree with Fleur. I'd rather leave the wizarding world and my magic than obey Voldemort."
Colin and Dennis silently nodded. Harry turned back to Hermione. She was considering him carefully, apparently trying to find the best words for her own decision.
"Tell me one thing, Harry, and I'll answer. If there were a way, if you could do one thing and destroy Voldemort forever, would you do it? Would you kill him and help us destroy the other Death Eaters?"
Harry stared, "There is nothing – "
"Just answer, okay? If there was one thing you could do, would you?"
Harry shook his head at her, "No. Getting rid of Voldemort would not solve the problem. Maybe I would consider it if there were a way to get rid of him along with all the Death Eaters, but that is impossible."
"But it would be a start," she said, taking a step closer to him. "Harry, we're not alone. There are others still out there – Oliver Wood, Lee Jordan, Ministry workers who survived the attack, even Aurors and Unspeakables! Moody is just waiting for an opportunity, Harry. And we can provide that, if you help us."
"Hermione – "
"No, let me finish," she insisted. "We can do it, Harry. We can return those Muggleborn students to their families, we can get the others a real education in Hogwarts. We'll be able to destroy the Death Eaters and their pureblood allies. It can all be better … we just need you to get close to Voldemort." She held out her hand, concentrating, and a silver dagger appeared, glistening with some oily substance.
"What – ?"
"We've been working on it for months," she whispered urgently. "It's a potion that will suppress a person's power for over an hour. That's long enough to kill him, Harry. If you do that, we can take care of some of the others. It would be a great start, Harry. Your mother would be proud."
He stared at the knife in her hand, mesmerized for a long moment. He glanced from Hermione's fervent eyes to Fleur, Dean, Colin and Dennis, knowing they would all die if they attempted this, even if they did take a few Death Eaters out with them. He finally turned back to Hermione, staring into her soft brown eyes.
"I won't." He whispered, just strong enough for them to hear. "You would throw us into another war, kill hundreds more … I won't allow that."
Her face twisted for just an instant as her arm shot out, hand gripping the handle of the dagger, aiming for his ribs. Harry felt the tearing pain as it sunk into his chest and a throb vibrated through his body … the potion, no doubt. The others cried out, shocked, and Colin took a halting step forward. Harry's hand automatically came up to grab her arm as she stared at him triumphantly. Breathing through the pain, he squeezed her arm until he felt her grip slacken, until the bones creaked, until they snapped.
"Werewolves heal very fast," He gasped, yanking out the knife. "And you were about three inches too low to stab my heart." He turned the knife around and sank it into her stomach. Hermione screamed and dropped to the floor, huddling in a fetal position. Harry held a hand over his wound, stepping back until he was against the wall of the cell, feeling dizzy as his magic ground to a halt. "MacNair!"
A moment later the Death Eater walked over, sneering, to see what had happened. He might despise Potter and want to kill the little shit, but he wasn't stupid. The big werewolf would tear him limb from limb, slowly, if he even attempted to harm his brat. So, disgusted, he opened the door to let Potter stumble out before slamming it closed again.
Harry made it halfway back to the castle before Snape appeared, apparently coming to collect him now that the half-hour was up. He took one look at the bleeding werewolf and pointed him back toward the imposing doors, "Wait in the audience chamber, I will return with the prisoners and a potion for you. Who was it?"
"Granger," Harry said, then gasped. She must have punctured his lung.
Snape merely nodded, waving him on before he turned and continued toward the cells. Harry braced himself before entering the audience chamber, glad his wound had already closed a little and had almost stopped bleeding.
As soon as the door opened and he stepped in Fenrir was out of his chair and striding toward Harry with a dark look on his face. Harry let him examine the wound, saying nothing to the curious glance Voldemort and the others now in the room were giving them. Finally Fenrir seemed satisfied Harry was not about to expire on the spot and, picking Harry up, sat down once more, this time with the younger werewolf draped across his lap.
"Tell me how it went," Voldemort hissed, rising from his throne to stand in front of the two werewolves. Other Death Eaters had gathered, some Harry knew, but they remained on the edges of the chamber.
Harry shifted against Fenrir, his chest beginning to ache, "Not well, they are dedicated as far as I saw. They're carrying a potion somewhere on their persons that can suppress a person's power for an hour… it was on the blade of a dagger Granger conjured."
"Wandlessly? Such a shame, such a waste," the older man hissed, bending slightly and placing his hand over the wound, ignoring the low growl this got from Greyback. With a sharp scratching sensation Harry felt the wound stitch together and close. His lung still ached, though. "Severus will bring you a potion, you will heal too slowly otherwise, without your magic to help you along." The dark wizard stepped back for a moment, considering the pair. "I am to understand this summons interrupted you at a rather inconvenient time, Potter. Is that true?"
Harry reluctantly nodded. It wasn't that he cared if anyone knew what he and Fenrir did together, but the very idea of Voldemort thinking about their sex life ….
"I shall make it up to you both, I think. It would do well for both you and your former comrades to understand that there is no turning back." He glanced up at Fenrir and nodded significantly before turning to seat himself again.
Harry didn't want to contemplate that – Voldemort's punishments and rewards were both rather sadistic. He turned over to lean closer to Fenrir, relieved when his mate held him tight against his chest, one hand heavy on his hip.
In only a few moments Snape returned, along with several guards and the five prisoners. Hermione was being led but when they came to a stop the Death Eater let go of her and she hunched over again. Leaving them to stand in the middle of the room, Snape approached Harry and gave him a light blue potion he recognized as a general healing draught. He took it without complaint and heaved a mental sigh when the dull throbbing in his chest faded almost completely. He was able to sit up when Fenrir urged him, turning to sit forward, watching the five prisoners without meeting any of their gazes.
Lucius Malfoy stood beside Voldemort's throne, speaking for him. "Here we see five wizards, four of them Mudbloods, who have seen error in our world and sought to correct it by violence and unrest. They had committed no crime before this offense and would have been allowed to live unassaulted in the wizarding world, despite their low birth."
Malfoy continued to talk, but Harry ceased to listen. He had heard these accusations before, and knew what would happen next; aside from that, his concentration was wavering as Fenrir, apparently as bored as he, started nibbling on his neck and ear. Harry shifted uneasily, aware since he had returned from the cells that Fenrir was hard as steel beneath him and cared nothing for their audience. Oh, god, is that what Voldemort had meant –?
Harry struggled to resist for the first time in a year as Fenrir's hands made their way across his back and chest under the robe he wore. He didn't want this, not like this, not now…. But it was nearly impossible to ignore the pull of his own body and the demands of his mate. He realized it, he hated it at the moment, but he knew struggling would do no good. Biting his lip, he resolved to be silent if nothing else.
Malfoy kept up his speech as the prisoner's wands were snapped in front of them, all of them shivering as it was done. Hermione seemed to be losing lucidity as she swayed and gazed around, half-aware while her gut continued to bleed steadily.
With a whispered spell, Harry's pants were gone, leaving him covered from neck to knees in his robe but exposed when Fenrir slid the back of the robe aside to let his mate feel him through his pants. Harry tossed his head back, giving the older male access to his throat and the bite scar, his body already thrumming with want. He could feel his body opening, preparing for his mate and master, and obeyed without a second's hesitation when Fenrir ordered him in a murmur, "Lift yourself on the arms, Coy."
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Across the room, Dean glared at the masked Death Eater in front of him and said nothing, keeping in the front of his mind the friends he had lost and his own family as a curse was aimed at him. Dennis, standing next to the dark-skinned boy, firmed his chin and fought the urge to cry. He could only reassure himself that the afterlife had to be better than this, and after all, he would be with his brother and father again.
Colin Creevy was having doubts. He self-admitted that he was a follower, and he always had been. He'd followed the ideals he was taught at school, without giving their basis a second glance. But now he looked from the man in front of him, holding his life at the end of a wand, to his brother and Dean, facing similar death … Hermione lay on the floor in a pool of blood, unconscious and allowed to die without the quick release of an Avada Kedavra. Fleur had turned … she stood now swearing her loyalty and future to the Dark Lord. And Colin had no one left to follow.
He might have tried to follow his first savior, Harry Potter, but that man had no attention for him now. He was across the room, sitting on a werewolf's lap, his face screwed up in pleasure as he was fucked in a room full of people who seemed to think nothing of it. True, there were no private bits exposed, they weren't making a sound, but from the movement, from their expressions Colin could tell they were having sex, and Harry wasn't fighting.
Colin saw a green flash of light out of the corner of his eye and gulped. This could not be happening. Where had they gone wrong? There was so much happiness in his first years at Hogwarts, so much enjoyment … even when trouble had come along, it never stayed. How had he come to being killed by a fellow wizard for trying to better their world? Why hadn't things gone better? Could he have done –
The Death Eaters turned back to their Lord as the last resistant fell to the green curse and the bodies were levitated out. Fleur, still shaky from the Veritaserum, was led away through a side door for an antidote and rest. When everything had been settled and the rest of the Dark Order released, Voldemort stood and walked over to the two werewolves. Fenrir glanced warily at him, both arms still cradling the limp body on his lap.
"Good show, Potter," the Dark Lord murmured, smirking when Harry ignored him in favor of blinking sleepily at the ceiling. He glanced at the older werewolf and said, "The last of the vigilantes are being rounded up as we speak, Delacour was quite informative. We are no longer at war."
He turned and left, leaving Harry to watch his alpha in curiosity. "What did he mean by that?"
Fenrir grinned at him and pulled the robe off his mate, pleased when the cool air made his nipples stand at attention. He plucked at them casually until Harry was twisting and shivering again.
"Fen … rir?" Harry fought to keep his concentration on the words and not on the stiffening prick in his arse. "What did – ahhh … what did he mean?"
(Edited for content)
Fenrir pulled the robe off the edge of the chair and wrapped it around his limp mate, careful not to put pressure on the pink knife wound. He lifted Harry enough for the slender werewolf to wrap his long legs around Fenrir's waist before leaving the room. "What did I tell you I wanted once the audience was over?"
Harry put his head down, groaning, "Give me a moment, please."
Fenrir just smirked at him and pushed through the door to their room, letting Harry slide to the floor and stand on his own. Without hesitation Harry went to his knees and started to unfasten his mate's trousers. Fenrir let him, pulling off his outer robe and the cashmere shirt he wore, sighing as Harry lowered further to tug his boots off.
"Hands and knees, Coyote."
Harry moved into position with a soft moan, loving the sound of his mate's commanding voice. After three intense orgasms that afternoon he wasn't able to get hard yet but he was still enjoying every moment. Fenrir kneeled behind him and nudged his knees further apart before bending to bite the lovely round arse before him.
Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out but when the older male's agile tongue swept over his hole he screamed.
"That's it, Coy." Fenrir's fingers dug into his hips, coaxing more cries from his mate with every stroke of his tongue. Perfect.
Morning came much too soon. A werewolf's hearing was incredible which often meant they did not sleep well because of the constant sounds, especially in this place where there was always someone awake and moving about. Fenrir ignored the sounds, despite the ever-increasing volume, having adapted quickly to only respond to noises that indicated anything which would affect him directly.
He knew instantly when trouble arrived. The majority of the pack had been moving about one floor below, getting ready, aided sometimes by Death Eaters. When Jonas woke, though, he started crying and it was at this point that Harry began to stir.
A light knock sounded at their door; Harry growled in his sleep and twisted closer to Fenrir. After a pause the portal opened and the tall form of Lord Voldemort walked in, smirking at the two werewolves.
"I have been informed by Lupin that preparations are nearly complete, Fenrir. I still expect monthly reports, in addition to any pertinent news. And Potter will continue teaching."
Fenrir nodded, shifting the blanket so it covered Harry's shoulders. His mate would sleep longer if he was warm. "The wards at the Chalet?"
"I have looked over them personally, they will hold against any unwelcome intrusion." The sound of Jonas' crying died out when Autumn arrived and Harry relaxed back into deep slumber against Fenrir's shoulder. "And of course, you will return for the occasional dinner with young Potter."
"Agreed," said Fenrir, closing his eyes again. Voldemort chuckled and left, shutting the door with a sharp snap behind him.
Harry shifted at the sound, half waking. He rubbed his head against Fenrir's shoulder and reached across his chest. "Mmm?"
"Sleep," Fenrir ordered, brushing a hand over the messy black hair until Harry's body relaxed once more and his arm went lax. Fenrir slid into a light doze, enjoying the slowly decreasing sounds from below, the warm weight of his mate, and the knowledge that soon they would be home.
He woke fully when Harry turned away and got up, padding silently toward the bathroom. Resigned, Fenrir sat up slightly and leaned against the headboard, waiting for his mate and the inevitable questions.
He was distracted when Harry returned, naked and flushed with warmth still, and crawled onto the bed. He slid up Fenrir's body, green eyes half-lidded. "Morning."
Fenrir met his lips halfway, drinking in the soft moan as he mapped the younger werewolf's mouth thoroughly. When he was released Harry slumped against his chest.
"What's going on today?"
Fenrir pulled the blanket up again and wrapped it around the slender shoulders before he began to shiver. "The war is over … Lord Voldemort no longer requires our constant presence and service. We have been released."
Harry turned his face up, frowning a little, "Was he here, earlier? I thought I was dreaming…."
"Dreaming of Voldemort in your bedroom, hm?" Fenrir mocked, smirking when that got a revolted shiver from his mate. "He was here to settle everything. You can continue to teach but the pack is returning to the chalet Voldemort gifted us with during the first war."
"So we're leaving the castle for good?" Harry asked, uncertain whether to be happy yet. He would love to be free of the constant heavy presence of Death Eaters around every corner, but he knew there had to be some conditions.
"We are going home," Fenrir said, smoothing a hand down Harry's back, "but you and I will return to report once a month and probably every other week for dinner. Otherwise, we will be spending all of our time at Crescent Chalet."
Harry sighed, closing his eyes in relief. "Home."