The Lion and the Wolf

Year One

Chapter Fourteen

The End of Things

May 16th, 1992

Saturday

Twenty minutes.

That was all the time that Harry had left before he transformed. Twenty minutes to save Neville from Quirrel. He wasn't exactly happy about the odds of success in this situation. Lupin had been quiet so far, but that did not mean he wouldn't be dangerous in the matter of minutes.

As he stepped through the dark flames into the final room, he was greeted by a brightly lit room. The change from the darkness of the potion room to this new place stung his eyes as he tried to settle his senses. He rubbed his eyes, trying to blink away the intensity, and finally took a moment to look around the room.

Nineteen minutes.

The first thing that caught his eye was a massive mirror standing in the middle of the room. It was encased in a brilliant gold frame that glinted harshly in the light of the flames that illuminated the room. It stood well over seven feet tall, towering over the two bodies that stood in front of it. It took him a second, but Harry recognized the two as Quirrel and Neville.

Neither one had spotted him yet, so he tried to silently hide behind a nearby pillar and try to figure out a plan. It wouldn't help anyone if he just barged in without thinking. That kind of attitude would most likely get him or Neville killed. As Harry creeped closer, he began to catch what Quirrel was saying at Neville.

"…of Erised. This is a magical mirror, of course. It shows you nothing less than your hearts deepest and truest desire. How revoltingly romantic if you ask me. But within it, yes, within it is a treasure in which I seek. But I cannot retrieve it. How…"

Harry took a chance and looked around the pillar he was hiding behind and say that his friend was bound and gagged. He couldn't see the boy's face, but he could smell the fear that dripped off of him in waves. It worried him that Neville was bound like this and complicated any plan making as Neville was now a sitting target that could easily be taken out.

The creeping werewolf dashed silently to the next pillar that put him closer to the kidnapper and captive. He went unnoticed as Quirrel was consumed by the mirror in front of him. "I see myself," Quirrel muttered, "presenting the stone to my master. He is so pleased with me. But how do I get the stone? I do I make it mine?"

The voice that responded sent chills down Harry's spine. "Use the boy," a raspy voice spoke out of nowhere. Harry peered out to see if he could find the source, but found nothing other than Quirrel, Neville, and the mirror. That made Harry shudder, as it definitely added to the possession theory that the pack had come up with.

Quirrel swung away from the mirror, and set his gaze upon Neville. The small Gryffindor flinched at the intensity, as if the look physically pained him. Quirrel pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the frightened boy. The man then conjured a rope that surrounded Neville's neck like a deadly snake, binding itself around the poor boy's throat. Quirrel grabbed the end still connected to his wand and yanked hard, throwing Neville to the ground.

Fifteen minutes.

"Get up, you pathetic boy. What is a little pain in the grand scheme?"

Neville could only whimper on the stone floor as he was still bound up. Quirrel pulled the rope once more, dragging Neville towards the mirror. Tears began to flood from the boy's eyes as terror consumed him and the rope around his neck ripping into his skin. Harry could already see the rope beginning to run the skin raw, even from his distance. It would be a painful recovery.

Quirrel jerked the rope up, bringing the first year up by his neck. Neville tried to gasp for air but the combination of the rope and the gag caused every breath to be a struggle. Harry winced as he witnessed the obvious pain of his friend. He needed to figure out something soon if he wanted Neville to survive all of this.

With a flick of the professor's wand, the gag around Neville's mouth disappeared. A gasping sob escaped the boy, a small of it relief. He was placed directly in front of the mirror with Quirrel standing over his shoulder. "Now boy, tell me, what is it you see?"

Neville sobbed but that was soon cut short by another sharp jerk to the rope around his neck causing him to cry out. Blood began to stain the rope as it finally cut into the neck. "Enough of your incessant whining child. Tell me what you see," Quirrel shouted.

"I-I j-just see m-me and m-my parents. Nothing else."

"He lies…. The boy lies…" the icy voice cried out.

Quirrel took the rope and pulled harshly backwards, causing Neville to fly backwards away from the mirror. He cried out in obvious pain while Quirrel snarled in frustration. "You insolent boy. We shall not tolerate your antics much longer."

Harry decided to move now to try and save Neville, but froze the moment the icy voice made another statement.

"Let me speak to the boy."

Eight minutes.

"B-but master, you are not strong enough." Quirrel whimpered.

"I am strong enough for this…"

Quirrel lifted his hands towards the purple turban that adorned his head. He slowly twisted and turned the fabric, undoing the intricate headpiece. With each passing second, Harry noticed that the smell of death was growing stronger. The stench of darkness overwhelmed him and made him want to throw up. But finally, the turban fell away leaving a bald Quirrel, and a wretched demon emerging from the back of his head.

"Neville Longbottom…" the demon spoke. "Do you see what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor… I have form only when I can share another's body… but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds."

It was at this moment that Harry knew who the demon face was. What the creature who possessed the body of Quirrel was named. The Dark Lord, Voldemort. Fear within him was now absolute. Taking on Quirrel was one thing, but to take on the most powerful wizard since Albus Dumbledore? That would be suicide.

"Once I have the Elixir of Life," Voldemort continued, "I will be able to create a body of my own… Now… why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"

Four minutes.

It was now that Harry knew he needed to act. If he didn't, Neville would die. He couldn't let that happen. With a loud cry, bringing the attention of the three other occupants of the room to him, Harry ran with enraged speed towards the Dark Lord's servant. Before Quirrel could understand, Harry tackled the man backwards into the large mirror.

With a mighty crash, both student and teacher went through the glass that made up the enchanted mirror. It cut into both, leaving large gashes in skin, some piercing the back of Quirrel and into Harry's arms. Both screamed out in pain, but Harry did not stop. He threw a punch at Quirrel's face, and another, and another. He wanted the man to pay for bringing Voldemort into the school. He wanted the man to pay for hurting Neville. He wanted to make the man pay for everything.

But despite his better strength and speed, Harry was blasted off of the man with a burst of magic. He flew back, towards the fearful form of Neville Longbottom. Quirrel rose, anger in his eyes. He pointed his wand at the fallen child.

"Harry Potter. I did not expect you, but all the same. You shall die for your trespasses. Crucio!"

The burning red light struck Harry in the chest, and pain ripped through his body. Every nerved felt as though it was on fire. Harry let out a blood-curdling scream, unable to contain it as it tore its way through his throat. Nothing else registered around him. Even Lupin seemed eclipsed by the pain.

One minute.

Quirrel laughed as he let off of the curse. He turned towards Neville and gave a toothy grin. "Do you see our power Mr. Longbottom? You could join us. We could give you power beyond your imagination. You could rule at my master's side. You could rise above this trash."

Neville was about to shout out his denial of the madman's offer when he was cut off by another scream coming from Harry. Both Neville and Quirrel were startled by the scream as he had been left alone. But what they did not know was that time was up. Harry Potter was no more. There was Harry Lupin. There was only the wolf.

Harry's body curled up in on itself, but soon began to grow and tear out of the school robes. Black fur sprouted from every inch of the boy's body. A feral lupine muzzle grew out, mouth filling with teeth as sharp as swords. Screams of pain began to turn into roars of aggression. Jade green eyes were replaced by a predatory amber.

Quirrel was shocked to watch as the boy become beast. The boy he knew as calm and innocent never once let off the impression that he was anything other than a shy orphan. But now in his place was a creature that had hunger in its eyes. It hungered, and Quirrel feared for the answer of what is was hungry for.

The wolf rose on its hind legs, growing to just taller than the professor, and it let out a deafening howl that echoed off the stone walls. Quirrel clutched his ears to stop the sound from destroying him, but in the moment of distraction the wolf attacked. With a mighty claw, it swiped at the servant's chest, tearing deeply into skin. Blood splattered on the ground from the wound and dripped from the wolf's claw.

Quirrel flew back and yelled out in pain and frustration. The wolf took quick advantage of the situation and jumped onto the mess of a man. Quirrel tried to push off the large beast, but couldn't seem to find the strength to do so. But in his efforts, his hand got much too close the snarling maw of the black werewolf. It wasn't even seconds before Quirrel realized that his left arm was missing below the elbow which was firmly lodged in the wolf's jaw.

Voldemort, now realizing that his servant and host would soon die, made his presence known once again by screaming out a single order. "KILL HIM! KILL HIM YOU FOOL!"

Quirrel aimed his wand upwards towards the hulking beast and sent out a rapid succession of cutting curses. The wolf dodged a few, but several caught him in the arm and chest. His own blood now mixed with the stone. The wolf let out another roar, rage now consuming him further. But before he could move again towards the twisted monstrosity of man and demon, another curse struck him in the leg. The knee cap shattered, the curse almost tearing away the leg. The beast dropped to the ground, unable to keep its stand with a damaged leg.

Quirrel laughed in triumph and neared the beast. "You foolish dog. You flea ridden mutt. You are no match to the power of the Dark Lord. And now we shall put you down like the animal that you are."

A blinding light came from the end of Quirrel's wand and the skin from shoulder to shoulder on the wolf opened up. The wolf collapsed as it began to lose blood rapidly. Figuring the monster for dead, Quirrel turned towards Neville.

"Now Neville. You have no chance of winning. If I can do this to your pet dog, imagine what I can do you. Join us and give us the stone." Quirrel released Neville from the bonds, rope no longer digging into skin. The professor then held out a hand, expecting the stone. Neville looked towards the dying werewolf and shuddered. Looking back at the Dark Lord and servant, he made the decision. He would not bow.

With a bold yell, Neville jumped at the twisted form of man and spirit. He knocked the man over, and wrestled the wand out of the man's grasp. Without hesitation, Neville brought Quirrel's wand down over his knee, snapping the wood into two. A cry of anger burst forth from Quirrel, and Voldemort once more ordered Quirrel to kill.

But then the strangest things happened in Neville's life, as far as he could remember. The moment that Quirrel's hand touched him, the skin began to burn and boil on the man's hands. Even more odd was that Neville did not feel any of the pain. It was as if only the professor was afflicted by the curse. Figuring this was his only chance, Neville once again attacked.

Neville's hands grasped Quirrel's face and throat, the skin beginning to ripple and boil. Quirrel screamed in agony and tried to turn the tables by feebly choking the Gryffindor. It was a battle of will, and as Neville began to black out from the lack of oxygen, he watched as Quirrel stagger backwards and turn to ash. A spirit rose out of the dust and screamed as it escaped through the stone walls of the castle.

But then blackness took Neville, and he knew no more.

May 19th, 1992

Tuesday

Harry let out a soft groan as he slowly gained consciousness. The bright lights the filled the room kept him from opening his eyes, but the smell of permanent sterility let him know that he was once again in the Infirmary. Not his favorite place in the world to wake up in, but if he was there it meant that he was safe.

He tried to think about why he was in the Hospital Wing again and was flooded with memories of the third-floor corridor. Harry's eyes shot open, trying to stop the images of Quirrel and Voldemort. To stop all of the images of blood. It felt like he was in a nightmare and it seemed so real. He could still smell the mix of blood, bone, and dark magic.

He looked around the room and confirmed that he indeed was under Madam Pomfrey's care. The Hufflepuff let out a sigh of relief, glad to find that he wasn't dead after all. He surely thought that the last curse Quirrel had used would have ended him.

Did you forget that werewolves are a lot harder to kill than humans Potter…

Harry grinned. If Lupin was being snarky, that meant that he was definitely okay. He looked down across his body, thankful for a nightshirt at least, but started to brush over where he had been hit by curses. His arm and chest seemed to be fine from the initial cutting curses, but all along his collar bone lay a long scar. It did not quite reach his shoulders, but it showed how dangerously close the Dark Lord's servant came to slashing open his throat, ending his ability to breathe.

He then flipped over the blanket that covered his legs to check out the damage to his knee. It seemed fine though he couldn't move it. Actually, his legs wouldn't respond at all. He furrowed his brow and determinedly tried to get his lower body to move but to no avail.

"Tut, tut Mr. Potter. I assume you attempting to move your legs, but moving will be impossible because I have them under a spell to make sure that knee heals. There was a lot of damage there, and if your knee moves anytime soon, it may not heal properly ever."

Harry looked up to see Madam Pomfrey standing over him with small smile. "It is good to see you awake Mr. Potter. You had a lot of us worried."

Harry blushed sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"None of that now, what is done is done," Pomfrey said kindly while she patted him on the head. "But now that you are awake, I must fetch Headmaster Dumbledore. I believe he wanted some words with you about how you ended up here in the first place." The Matron's smile turned sour in the blink of an eye, "Especially when you were supposed to be outside the wall of Hogwarts on the night of a full moon. I expect you to keep proper precaution in the future Mr. Potter."

With that, the stern old healer marched off to summon the aging Headmaster, leaving Harry to his own devices. Harry began to wonder what kind of trouble he would be in, but he was assured by his wolf that he shouldn't be in any at all.

After all Potter… You went done to save Neville when no one else could…

Harry had to agree to an extent but was fearful of the fallout of changing into a wolf on school grounds. With that though now in his head, he began to panic as he studied the room around him. Finally, his eyes settled down on a sleeping Neville Longbottom. He watched as the boy's chest rose and fell as breathe entered and left his lungs. It was clear that the boy was asleep, though if it was because of trauma, potions, or self-indulgence, he didn't know.

He was glad to see that even in spite of a botched rescue mission and letting the werewolf side of him get the best of the situation, his friend was still alive. But now begged the question of how to talk to Neville about it. Neville now knew what Harry was. How would he react? Would their friendship survive this? Would Neville let it slip to the world what Harry was?

Surely things would still be okay. Neville wasn't the kind of person to up and abandon someone else. He knew how that felt with Weasley and Granger. As far as he knew, Neville had already forgiven the two, he was just waiting for his Gryffindor friends to come back. So surely if Neville could want to stay their friend, would he not do the same for Harry after having a whole year together?

But Harry did not get a chance to dwell on that hope, as he noticed Albus Dumbledore enter into the Hospital Wing. The old man gave Harry a twinkling smile, which Harry gave a small grin in return. If Dumbledore was smiling, then things were okay. And if they weren't, they would be soon.

"Well, my dear boy, it is good to see you awake. I must say, having you be unconscious twice this year is a bit disconcerting. But that is neither here nor there at the moment. All that matters now is you are awake."

Harry looked down with an embarrassed blush. It wasn't like he wanted to be in these kinds of situations. He already hated being here for three days a month with his transformations.

"Now, I believe we should talk about what happened a few nights ago over on the third floor."

"A few nights ago?" Harry asked surprised. "How long have I been out?"

"Well, you went don't there on Saturday, and it is now Tuesday, so… three days give or take a few hours."

Harry grimaced at that news. He knew that he was going to face his adoptive father about this, and he really didn't like worrying Remus. Sure, he wasn't at fault with the Malfoy incident, but this was something he surely could have avoided. Theoretically that is.

"Now Harry. Do you want to tell me what went on Saturday night that led you to the third floor?" Dumbledore's signature twinkle was gone and was replaced by eyes that were stern, but not stern enough to eliminate all care.

So Harry dove into the story. He started with how he began to notice a change in Professor Quirrel in the way he acted. He even revealed that the man had changed in his scent, going from strong garlic to rotten flesh. Next was the explanation of how himself, Theodore Nott, and Fred and George Weasley all started to investigate the matter to figure out what was wrong with their professor. They had their suspicions of either magical decay or possession.

But Saturday the twins showed him a magical map that revealed that something was most definitely wrong with Quirrel. They began to discuss how this might coincide with the Philosopher's Stone on the third floor (to which Dumbledore laughed and said something about "not doing anything by halves"). That was when they knew that Quirrel was not sick, but most likely possessed.

Then he had to dive into the year long story about how Neville, Granger, and Weasley were involved in trying to solve the mystery of the third-floor, though more Granger and Weasley than Neville. Harry also explained how Neville and he figured it must have been the Philosopher's stone after hearing that Nicholas Flamel was involved, and that someone must be after it. Not that it was any of their business being first years and all.

They didn't have time to plan to tell a teacher about the whole situation concerning Quirrel because Theo watched as the map showed them Quirrel abducting Neville. They knew they had to act, whether or not it was the full moon. That lead them to the corridor when the twins rushed off to find a teacher.

Then Harry led Dumbledore through the tale of going through all of the traps and eventually what had conspired between himself, Neville, Quirrel, and Voldemort, as far as he knew. He wasn't sure how he got out or if Quirrel was able to get the stone, since he had passed out from blood loss before anything finished. That was when Dumbledore interjected and finished the tale.

"The good news Harry, is that Quirrel was unsuccessful of gaining the stone. I am not sure how exactly but I shall be talking about it when Neville wakes up himself. By the time that I and several other of your professors arrived, Quirrel was nothing but ash and there was no sign that Voldemort was ever there."

"You indeed had lost a lot of blood in the process, but thanks to quick action from Severus and Poppy, they were able to save you from imminent death. We took both you and Neville hear out and brought you here."

"But what about the Stone sir?" Harry said curiously.

Dumbledore gave a small chuckle, "Oh my dear boy, even after learning of your own near death, you still care for others and their things. The Stone unfortunately was destroyed sometime in the struggle."

"But does that mean Flamel will die?"

"Yes, I had a long conversation with Nicholas and it was decided that this was the best. Yes, he will pass, but he has enough life left to make sure all of his affairs are in order and still have a few years with his wife. But do not fret for them Harry. To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

Harry felt a wave a regret. Sure, he was not responsible for the destruction of the Stone, but still he was involved in a situation that would result in death. More than one death at that. First Quirrel, now the Flamel family. It was weighing heavy on him.

"Harry, I want you to know that I am proud of you." Harry glanced back up in confusion. Of all of the responses he had expected from the Headmaster, this was not one of them. "Harry, you put yourself at great risk and showed great bravery for the sake of a friend in danger. You were willing to sacrifice yourself in exchange for someone else, and that is the truest form of love."

Harry teared up a little at that. He really hadn't thought about it that way. He just did what was right, didn't he? That wasn't need for being praised. Anyone would have done the same.

"Harry, I will let you rest, but know that you did your father and myself proud. You showed the true loyalty of a Hufflepuff."

With the final word, Dumbledore left, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

The next time Harry awoke, he slowly pushed himself to sit up in the stiff hospital bed. Harry looked out the window and realized that the sun had set, pushing the waning moon into the sky. It was a comforting sight, knowing that even if his world had been rock, the rest of the earth still turned.

He looked away from the moon, and took in the sight of the Infirmary. Not much had changed since he was last awake. He still was unable to move his legs, which were still spelled to ensure that he was healing properly. No new students had taken up residence in the Wing. But across from him, there was a new development.

Neville was awake.

Harry burst into a smile, knowing that his friend was okay. He was really worried about him after the abduction but now he seemed to be fine. At least fine enough to be engrossed in a book. The rope burn around his neck was completely healed and didn't scar. Almost like the whole event never happened. That just made Harry's smile grow.

"Neville! You are okay!"

But everything was not okay. The moment Neville's name left Harry's lips, the boy flinched violently. Neville looked up towards his friend, and the first thing that Harry saw was the terror that filled his eyes. It was undiluted and consuming. Harry flinched back himself, taken aback by the raw emotion of fear that was directed in his way.

That he was responsible for.

Neville quickly threw his book on a nearby bedside table, grasped his blanket to hide under, and started to pretend to sleep. Harry was left speechless. His friend, his first friend, was afraid of him. The boy saw the monster that lie within, and all he knew was terror.

Harry sunk down in the bed. His heart seemed to tear out of his chest, and the pain was unbearable. Tears soundlessly fell down his face but Harry had no strength to wipe them away. He just lay his head down on the pillow, and wept until he fell asleep.

May 30th, 1992

Saturday

Harry stood alone on the edge of Platform 9 ¾. It felt strange, the year being over. What he had hoped for in a normal year was completely dashed in the strange year that it had been. Even for a boy that could turn into a man-eating monster every month, this year was completely bonkers.

Unfortunately, it didn't end when Quirrel died. In fact, things seemed to get much worse than he expected. Neville became completely terrified of him, and still had yet to speak a single word to Harry. Weasley and Granger came to visit their friend in the Infirmary and made up, but they caught on to the emotional distance between the two friends. Granger just looked as if she was trying to figure out the mystery, while Ron decided that it was Harry's fault that Neville was hurt and just shot glares at the boy. Neville only left the Infirmary shortly before the leaving feast, so Harry didn't have a chance to talk to him in Potions class to settle anything.

Harry worried for a while that Neville would leak that he was a werewolf, but he was later comforted by Dumbledore who said he casted a secrecy spell on Neville, so he wouldn't be able to spread Harry's secret, on purpose or by accident. That definitely helped, since it was clear that Neville may never be Harry's friend ever again. And that thought was what tore at Harry the most.

The Weasley twins and Theo stuck by Harry, but seemed to be the only ones. None of his Hufflepuff house mates made an effort to visit him in the hospital wing, not even Hopkins. It may have been because they had been so used to Harry being "sick" but still. No one seemed to care. But The twins and Theo were a welcome comfort, even if he couldn't see them all the time.

The year ended with a large feast, celebrating the completion of the academic year and every student was glad to have reached the end. Slytherin won the House cup and the Quidditch Cup, while Harry was nicely surprised that Hufflepuff had come in second. Not a win, sure, but it was better than last. The food was always a plus and took away the sting of losing.

Harry was then surprised to find that he did rather well in his classes despite missing all that time due to his wolfy condition and the two times he was put away due to injury. He wasn't close to being the top of the class, but he made the top of the first year Hufflepuffs. This made him proud of his little study group for a moment, but it brought back his feelings of abandonment by Neville.

The train ride home wasn't anything special, but it did mean he was going home. To be home with his adoptive father. Time to relax. To let go and just be Harry. To forget about all of the troubles that he was facing. The attack by Malfoy and Quirrel. Fluffy the three headed dog. Neville.

Remus popped into the station forty minutes after the train had let the students loose, and rushed over to Harry, regret on his face. "Sorry Harry. I didn't mean to be so late. I got caught up in getting the house clean for your return that I lost track of the time."

Harry just shook his head and grinned. It was good to see the older werewolf again. Even though he might not admit it out loud, he really did miss the old wolf. He was a always a comfort, even when everything else went belly up.

"Come on pup, let's go home."

Harry looked up to his dad and gave him a smile. Yeah, that sounded good.

Home.

End of Year One