A/N: I hope you guys don't mind the short-ish chapters, since I'm updating a whole lot. I work better this way, sometimes. :) I hope everyone enjoyed the "Why Devlin Hates The Cruciatus Curse" snippet. It might give you a clue to the ending of this chapter. In a couple chapters I'll be able to put up another snippet that shows the first time Devlin met Death Eaters (which was not the same time he was kidnapped) and the night he was bitten.

Dubhán hears a jar opening, the sound of sand between fingertips, and the roar of fire.

"Albus?" Potter's voice, slightly muffled from his position in the flames, floats to Dubhán's ears. He swallows. Albus Dumbledore is to be feared, he knows. He is a powerful wizard, even grandfather admits to the fact. For the first time he truly feels his magical restraints and they begin to itch and burn as his anxiety increases.

"Yes, Harry?" Potter must have pulled his head out of the flames so the room at large could hear the conversation. Dubhán feels his heart quickening. The faster it beats the more panicked he becomes. He moves his eyes as far to the corner as he can to try and get Geoffrey's attention, but the man's hand is covering his face.

"We have Devlin," Potter says. "We'll take him home right away, but we're not sure what to do with Mr. Goddard."

"Bring him to me, I will situate him in one of Hogwarts private rooms. Have you alerted Lupin? He might be helpful in...transportation."

"I've ask him to come already, he'll be interrupting our fire chat as soon as he gets the letter." This is Alexandra's voice. His mum.

"Very good, very good. I'll send Ronald and another of our friends over to help with Geoffrey." There was a pause. "As much as I feel a certain desire to beg you, like an old relative, to see the boy, I will resist the urge."

"Then we'll start arranging for transport on our end," Potter said, ending the conversation. Dubhán's heart beats even faster. It was making him feel almost sick. They want to take him 'home'. He's not some stray puppy – he has a home!

He can feel the blood flowing in his body. He can feel the panic spreading. I'm trapped, his body screamed. He hates feeling helpless. These thoughts fuel his anxiety, until that anxiety finds an outlet: magic. The magical bonds fall away and he can feel his limbs again. He stands up, feeling shaky and weak.

"I won't go anywhere with you," he says defiantly. Geoffrey is peering at him now, frowning ever to slightly.

"Devlin, sweetie, you don't look too good," The witch says, stepping towards him. He growls.

"Don't get near me, I'll hurt you."

"Then sit down and stop threatening people!" This is Alexandra and Dubhán finds himself following her directions. He should sit down anyways, he's all dizzy. He decides that's the only reason he listened. No one once acts surprised at his ability to break the spell. In fact, Alex is surprised he hadn't broken it earlier - he had always been good at hacking though locking charms as a little boy.

His eyes are a fawn brown; Geoffrey's are a light blue.His eyes are drawn to Geoffrey's, who cannot hold back a slight, reverberating, growl. He frowns, silent and passive.

"You!" Geoffrey has lunged at the man, slamming him against the office wall, pressing his forearm against the man's throat. Dubhán scrambles from the chair he had reseated himself in, although he is at least five feet from the two men already, and toward the back wall. Geoffrey's eyes have gone pale amber; a level of anger Dubhán has never seen him have in human form.

"Don't even think of getting near him!" Geoffrey growls, and hardly cares that the man has made no move to fight back. Potter, Alexandra and Hermione, have though, throwing stunning spell one after another.

"That wont work." Dubhán says from behind them, and for once that day he is not lying, he is not mocking or taunting them, he is not manipulating or predicting an outcome; he is not angry. "Something has awakened his wolf."

Potter is frantic, pulling at his hair between spells, assuring Remus he'll be okay, to hold on, yelling at Geoffrey, screaming for Remus to fight back. "Come on Remus!" He says, sending another spell to Geoffrey's back.

"We don't know each other, you've mistaken me for some-" Geoffrey's arm against his throat stops the man from speaking further.

"To hell we don't!" Geoffrey's voice is as scathing as a scratch from his wolf claws would have been. "I shouldn't have brought him here! Not if they'll allow you near him." Remus has gone pale, straining to look over his attackers shoulder and to the boy he has only just noticed. "I'll killyou with my bare hands!"

"Oh no you wont!" This is Potter – he is strengthening the potency of his spells, doubling their speed and notching up their aim. He is going for the kill, if he has too.

Behind him, Dubhán feels suddenly small, suddenly powerless. Part of him knows Geoffrey will die soon, at the hands of Voldemort, part of him wishes the man to die a less painful death, part of him wants to kill him himself. Welling up from its beaten place, some part of him cannot relinquish the friendship, the protection, and the care, which Geoffrey had given him. Part of him wants Geoffrey to live - and that part overwhelms him.

"Stop it!" He demands, voice edging on tears. The words stop Potter, Alexandra, and Hermione, the whimpering quality to it, stops Geoffrey. He does not need words; Dubhán could have told him to kill the man while using the right body language and tones of voice, and Geoffrey would have understood him. "Stop it. Don't hurt Geoffrey, please. He...wont hurt the man..." He feels weak, unshielded, brought back into the body of a child. His vision is blurring and shaking and becoming muted.

He feels his muscles tense, relax for a fraction of a second, and tense again. He stumbles backwards.

"Please…" he manages to whisper, steeling himself for what he knows is coming, before he collapses onto the floor, convulsing.

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