A/N: Hi! Sorry for waiting so long. I got a little stuck with the plot, but I think I should be posting more often now, especially when summer starts. Anyway, sorry it's so short, but I thought it was better than nothing; I'll try to get the next chapter up soon.

And, of course, I would like to thank DreamOfStories for betareading this, which has been a great help!

Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter.

The Road To Hell...

Why had he never thought of it before?\

Wandless magic! Very difficult to perform, but in a way this only made it more to their advantage - it was so rare no one could expect an opponent to wield it. A very helpful surprise when your wand was stolen.

Tom had reacted to the idea with enthusiasm - or as much enthusiasm as he possessed, anyway - but had rejected Henry's next idea of mailing his grandfather for help on the matter.

"Owls can be intercepted." he pointed out. "You're careful with coding your mail, I know, which is sent scarcely enough, but however you try to phrase this, an interest in wandless magic is a little unusual."

"There's a war, and I'm supposedly running from it. Can't the poor, orphaned teen want to learn to defend himself?"

"Last I checked you hadn't said anything about being orphaned, you idiot, and unless you want some awkward questions I would keep it that way. "

"Yeah, yeah." Henry gave up on trying to convince Tom. His gaze flickered to a clock in the room. "Anyway, I have the first lesson with Dumbledore… Urgh."

Tom snorted. "You accepted."

"How could I say no?" He glanced at the clock again. Henry stood, nodded solemnly to his friend, and left the room, looking as though he was walking to a funeral.

Tom snickered.

"Henry, come in, come in." Dumbledore smiled as he saw Henry at his door, pleased. Henry smiled back, making himself look a little nervous but excited. When Dumbledore turned to lead his into the room he sneered at the wizard's back. He followed Dumbledore in, the smile returning as he saw the Transfiguration teacher turn. His jaw hurt with the effort.

"Now, these lessons should be mostly practical, I think, if we want you to become adept at defending yourself. First, before we start anything else, your current level should be assessed."

Ah. Was that the point of this? To figure out if Henry was a threat? But why did he even care to check? He nodded to show his understanding. Dumbledore took out his wand, and Henry followed suit.

"On three," The old man said pleasantly. "One… Two…"

Now, Henry could likely beat everyone in his year in a duel, with Tom as an exception, simply because he had more experience. A trained and skilled auror, well, perhaps not, but it all depended on the circumstances. On raids, for example, those they attacked were mostly too panicked to accomplish anything. The aurors that showed were not taken in formal duels but attacked quickly and, if possible, underhandedly. But this was not to say he could not hold his own in a duel; Grindelwald and Tom had been helping him in this area all summer, after all.

Still, he didn't need to let Dumbledore know this. It was always good to keep a trick or two up your sleeve. But then, Dumbledore would suspect something if he was too poor a dueler…

"Three!"

Henry immediately threw up a shield, deflecting the quick wordless jinx Dumbledore threw his way. A little impressed, the elder wizard tried a few quick stunners next. Henry dodged these physically and flung out his arm, using a wordless freezing hex. His teacher barely dodged.

"Impedimenta!"

"Stupefy!"

"Redimio!"

Dumbledore ducked the binding spell easily so Henry changed tactics and shot an explosion charm at the wizard's feet. Not expecting such a move from an unexperienced student Dumbledore was caught off guard, barely stepping back in time to avoid falling in the hole or being hit with debris. Henry rapidly shot a few more silent Redimios, none of which, unfortunately for him, hit the mark.

The future headmaster began pressing harder now, testing him. He shot a few curses toward him Henry did not recognize, picking up speed. Next he conjured birds which dove for the startled teen. Henry conjured up a miniature dragon himself, a difficult spell, which easily took on the distracting birds. Dumbledore animated the chair behind Henry, and Henry with a flick of his hand commanded the dragon to flame the chair. With a jab of his wand a rain cloud appeared above Dumbledore's head, drenching him. He was unfazed, merely continuing to send spells at Henry - until the rain cloud began shooting out lightning. Henry couldn't kill the Headmaster of Hogwarts, not yet, and so instead had made the spell purposely weak. The lightning should only stun him a little. The older wizard was strong, however, and though he stumbled did not fall. He batted the cloud away with a quick spell and raised his hand to halt the duel.

Dumbledore gave him a long, appraising look, both approving and a little troubled, and Henry realized with chagrin he may have given away more than he had meant. Finally the wizard gave him a small smile.

"Well, first let us go over the flaws on both our parts in that duel…"

One week later

"Found anything yet?" Tom's voice was muffled behind the stack of books.

"Nothing! You?"

"Just a few references here and there - how wandless magic is helpful in the situation here, how this spell is impossible with wandless magic, but nothing on actually using it."

"More than I've found," Henry grumbled to himself. Tom paused, an odd expression crossing his face, and he abruptly stood and came over to Henry. Curious, the ex-Gryffindor looked up at the teen. Tom pushed Henry's book up, saw the title, then dropped the book and smacked Henry on the back of his head.

"Hey!" Henry grimaced, rubbing at his head. "What was that for?"

"You idiot!" Tom was exasperated. "You're searching for books on wandless magic, a rare and apparently difficult, nearly secret magic, and you're not looking in the restricted section?"

"How on earth could I get in their?" Henry sputtered.

"Are you a Slytherin or not? Just ask Slughorn! Even an idiot could see that. He'd give you a full pass without question."

Henry blinked, considering this…

"…Oh."

"Professor?" Slughorn smiled cheerfully at Henry as the last of the potions students left the class.

"Yes, Mr. Grendel?" He asked brightly. "Is this about the slug-club?"

"Er, no, sir… Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something. You see, I had heard about the magical creatures Grindelwald has been using, and I was hoping to look some of them up in the library, considering my position." Slughorn nodded. This made sense, and if Dumbledore heard it could be explained away. Dumbledore was, after all, just giving him dueling tips, nothing else. "But, most of the creatures Grindelwald would use are in the Restricted Section…"

"So you need a note!" Slughorn nodded sympathetically. "Of course, of course!" He quickly took out a quill, ink, and parchment and scribbled something down. He handed it to Henry. "And, about the slug club…"

"When's the next meeting, professor?" Henry asked innocently. He pocketed the note.

Slughorn beamed. "Why, this Friday! Well, not a meeting - a party! I'm inviting a werewolf I know…"

Henry's face showed true interest. "Really…"

"A slug club party!" Tom shuddered. "Henry, I'm going to kill you."

"Haven't yet." Henry smirked at his glowering friend. "And quite whining, it won't be much help in convincing the minions to come along."

"Calling them minions isn't very helpful either."

"Hmmph."

Henry spotted Lewis Nott, as well as Majuin and Cerlus Tinol. Nudging Tom, he nodded toward them discreetly. Tom nodded, and they walked over to sit down casually. The three looked a little surprised; the two had a reputation for sticking to themselves, and they had half thought the two would forget about them.

Tom smiled, and though his smile was easy, Henry could tell he was laughing inside.

"Have you ever been to a Slug Club party…"

"This is not gaining us any points with the minions," Henry said with amusement. He glanced back toward their three 'friends', who were seated with Slughorn, now rambling about who-knows-what. Tom had, of course, charmed Slughorn into allowing them to search for the werewolf. "What was the point of bringing them here again?"

Tom shrugged. "If nothing else they'll feel included, even if they're not… Oh, there he is!"

Henry spotted him as well, a tall, dark-haired man with long curly hair. His eyes were amber, and he watched the students milling around with calculating suspicion. They gave him a wide berth.

Now, Henry and Tom were, of course, above all else looking for magic supremacy. Muggles, in their opinion, had outlived any use they once had. Some would argue if they called them fools, but how could they be called anything else?

They were cruel, Tom and Henry knew that first-hand. They were biased, easily seen by the witch-burnings. And they were destroying the world, which was strongly tied to magic, and thus they damaged the very way of life for wizards.

Now, despite what some blood-traitors thought, they did not look down upon werewolves or vampires - or most of them didn't, anyway. Werewolves, Vampires, Centaurs, Merpeople, Goblins – they were all magic, and thus accepted. If anything they were more a part of magic then most witches or wizards.

And that was why it was vital they had them as allies.

The werewolf had been looking in a different direction when they approached, but when they came near he snapped his head toward them, nostrils flaring, eyes wide. Henry had read that magical creatures could smell magic, in great enough amounts; was this one of those times? Were he and Tom that strong? Apparently.

The werewolf eyed them suspiciously.

"Hello." Tom smiled, eyes flashing as he assessed the werewolf. Henry watched as well, silent-Tom was without a doubt the better speaker of the two. "I am…"

"Lord Voldemort."

Tom stared.

The werewolf smiled darkly, flashing pearly white teeth too long to belong to a human. "Yes, I recognize your scent - I watched one of the raids. Your smell is very distinctive - and yours as well, Lord Poseidon…" Tom's lips twitched at Henry's name, which Henry ignored. The werewolf did not notice. "I am Fekete Farkas."

"Yes, you are," Tom observed wryly. "And considering you are not attacking us or yelling for Slughorn…"

Fekete smirked. "Let's talk somewhere more private, shall we?"

The room the three entered was silent, far enough from Slughorn's room that nothing of the party was heard. But Tom took no chances, quickly taking out his wand and placing quick warding spells on the door before this Fekete could speak. The werewolf smiled, a little impressed.

"How very interesting this is," he commented. "Two of Grindelwald's most favored little soldiers, apparently rising in the ranks quite quickly, and mere Hogwarts students… Tell me, what business is it of yours to interfere with Germany's war?"

"Our business is our own," Tom said coolly. "I am more curious as to knowing your intentions." He did not lower his wand after putting up the wards.

"If you were not I would be wasting my time," Fekete told the teen. "But keep your secrets, then. In any case that is not why I kept my silence. My sire, and indeed a large amount of my pack, is allied with Grindelwald, though Horace has turned a blind eye to this, it seems. Unfortunately my pack will not allow me to even attempt to join Grindelwald." He grimaced slightly. "They fear he would not allow me to leave alive - I am a squib."

Ah. "That makes no difference," Henry assured, forgetting his own thoughts of letting Tom do the talking. "You are no muggle, and as even a muggle werewolf possesses magic of a sort and would be given equal rights. Grandfather will accept you."

"Grand-" the werewolf paled.

"Henry, you are terrible with secrets," Tom told him. Henry shrugged.

"What? We need contacts, you know, and they shouldn't be kept in the dark. It will be revealed eventually anyway, to everyone"

"That casualness of yours will have you killed one day."

"So you've said." Henry turned back to the white werewolf. "So, who's your sire?"

The werewolf had to swallow before speaking, mouth dry. "…Alpha … Duskil."

Henry wondered if that was the true name, but let it go. "Alright. I'll speak to Grindelwald when I next see him, and he can talk to Duskil, which should help your alpha see the truth of the matter; are there others like you?"

"Yes; two muggle werewolves and four squibs just in my pack." Henry's eyebrows rose. Squibs were not that common, were they? Tom saw the look.

"Squibs are often abandoned," He told his friend. "Left in a magical area, alone, at night…They often become werewolves or vampires." Henry nodded in understanding. Just like my grandmother, he reflected, minus the werewolf/vampire part…

"We'll try to get the word spread about this," Henry promised Fekete. "Merlin, though… How many fight for a cause when they don't even know what they fight for?"

A/N: Please review!