He Foams at Mouth and By and By Breaks Out to Savage Madness
The Shack hadn't changed in all the years since Harry had last been inside it. He doubted it had changed since Remus had last used it for this same purpose while attending Hogwarts. Despite that it started as a lie to discourage the curious, the place was indeed haunted in its own way. The pale specters of violence past were not buried, but were instead outlined, by the chalky dust of decades. There were deep gouge marks on walls and in floors, unmistakably made by clawed hands. Black splatters of blood stood out on the faded fabric that rotted to tatters on the moldy bed, its mattress bleeding its own contents through rents in its casing. A large, splintered mirror in a broken frame multiplied the horror of the scene a dozen times over as the cool autumn air howled like a banshee through the gaps in the walls. This is what confronted Harry like a prophecy revealed, waiting to be fulfilled. He saw exactly what he could look forward to on this night and on countless nights thereafter, and he shivered.
But at least Remus was there. Remus had lived this horror, had made these very marks, and he had survived it. He had not just survived it, but he was also still such a man that Harry could hold love for him that rivaled his love for Severus. It had not destroyed Remus and, gods willing, it would not destroy Harry.
But the Remus who had silently carried him to the top floor of this precarious structure was not quite the man with which Harry was familiar. This was a Remus whom Harry had not been given the opportunity to meet until now. His father had seen this version of him, though; and Sirius. The man who stood beside him now, as he swayed on unsteady legs waiting anxiously for the moon to rise, held a hard, solemn air of confidence born of familiarity with the darkness Harry felt rising inside him; and that mastery in the face of the ugly inevitable was a comfort.
"Will it hurt?" Harry said softly, knowing the answer but asking anyway, his back turned as he still surveyed the room.
"Yes." The answer was plain, direct, with no qualifications or inadequate, unrealistic attempts at comfort. Harry nodded. "We should take off our clothes and put them somewhere we aren't likely to reach them until we change back. No sense in wasting them," Remus reasoned, undoing his buttons. But Harry required assistance with his own clothes and, after he'd undressed himself, Remus came forward to lift Harry's t-shirt over his head.
It wasn't a routine, impersonal exercise. The man was not shy. Remus made no effort to divert his eyes, to preserve Harry's modesty, as he stripped the young man. When he had finished, Remus locked eyes with him, and there was as much hunger there as Harry had ever seen before; along with something keen, something wild. Harry's responding shiver had nothing to do with the chill air on his now bare skin.
Harry returned Remus' bold stare with trepidation. The moon would rise soon, Harry could sense it. He could feel himself sliding already. The rational, 'human' part of him was fading and he could feel himself becoming a creature of impulse and instinct, wild and hungry for something he couldn't identify. It felt a bit like mania, and he could see a reflection of it in Remus' face, recognized it in the way Remus' hands skated slowly over his naked body as Harry stood, unflinching, and allowed it.
"I'm going to finally be selfish, Harry," Remus warned gently, and the young man was confused. The moon would rise any minute. They couldn't...not now. Though, despite his terror of the oncoming trial, Harry would have been willing. There was something exceptionally sexual in the way Remus was carrying himself. Everything about him screamed wolf: the calculation in his intelligent but untamed expression; the resting potential in his muscles, taut despite the ease of his posture, as if he were ready to spring but knew how to avoid betraying the moment when he might.
"Remus," Harry objected, shaking his head, "we can't-"
"Don't contradict me," Remus said firmly, startling the young man. It was practically a bark, but a restrained one; authoritative but confident enough not to be loud or overbearing. Something deep within Harry responded. He felt hackles he didn't yet have rise; felt himself subdued and was discontent with it. "I know you love Severus," Remus went on, cocking his head to the side as he considered Harry in an animalistic manner. "And I'll allow you to go on loving him," he assured, seeing the apprehension that crept into Harry's expression, "I'm not heartless. But I am going to Claim you, Harry" he said simply. The young man scowled in confusion.
"Remus, what are you talking about?" Harry whispered nervously, taking a small, unsteady step back even as he sensed the first sliver of the moon breach the horizon. It wouldn't be long now and Harry's anxiety was cresting, not helped at all by Remus' unfamiliar manner.
"Establishing myself as Alpha may not be enough to keep you in check," Remus explained, eyeing Harry covetously. "I warned Severus this might be necessary in order to contain you, and it very well might be. It doesn't matter. We'll never know for certain. I'm going to do it anyway," he said plainly. "Not because I have to, but because I want to. I'm going to Mate with you. And werewolves mate for life, my Darling. So there's the extent of my nobility," he said, cocking an eyebrow, his tone and expression completely unapologetic. "I'll let you wander, I'm not that selfish. But after tonight, I intend for nothing to permanently rip you away from me ever again. You told me you love me but don't know what to do about it. I'm taking the problem out of your hands. After this you can claim, truthfully, even to yourself, that you have no control over your actions with me. You will be faultless in your indiscretion. And I can only hope you can trust me not to abuse my control over you. For I will control you, Darling. Though I promise to do so gently...most of the time," he added in a rugged purr, sweeping his eyes the length of Harry's body.
Harry's heart tripped and he trembled. So little of the man he knew was left in the beast he observed now stalking him, pacing back and forth with those lupine strides that were both lazy and energetic, eager but controlled. And while a part of Harry rebelled against the idea of any surrender of his sovereignty of self; another part, a larger part if he were honest, thrilled at the thought of belonging to this man. If he could still have Severus, if his leash was not too short, Harry could see himself tethered to Remus. Though, not without reservation. Not without some sort of fight. And surprisingly enough, Harry looked forward to the struggle...and so too, it seemed, did Remus.
Harry appreciated the man's honesty. He could easily have said nothing, could have claimed afterward that there had been no choice and been found faultless. But he didn't, and that choice, not the one Remus had just explained without contrition, was proof of the extent of Remus' nobility. He had confessed his weakness and Harry respected him for it.
Harry felt himself strengthening along with the brightness of the moonglow beyond the broken window panes. The two men circled one another, their expressions hard, determined. It was an odd courtship with odd stakes. Everything Harry felt now was visceral, not cerebral. His human self was falling away rapidly, but it was Remus who changed first. It wasn't triggered by the moonlight. Remus initiated it intentionally, needing to be at the ready before confronting whatever unknown thing Harry would become. Harry heard Remus' bones snap as they changed, breaking and reforming; and he refused to deafen himself to the clear anguish of Remus' cries as they did so; cries which gradually turned to whimpers and howls as the transformation completed.
Harry could still see the man in the wolf standing aggressively before him. It had the same sandy colored hair Harry had stroked his fingers through just days before. The eyes were still the same amber and the same shape, though perhaps bigger than before. Harry had forgotten how large Remus was in wolf-form. He stood almost as tall as Harry. The power he must possess was undeniable, but so was his reason, his presence. The Wolfsbane allowed Remus to retain much of his inner-self, and he would need it in order to deal rationally with the irrational beast Harry would soon transform into.
When the moonlight finally felt through the window at his back, Harry felt it like a physical force. It pushed at him like a current, as if he'd stepped into a gently flowing stream of water, and where it touched him it penetrated, finding its way into his very cells, triggering a chain-reaction that rippled down the length of his body. He collapsed to the floor as he felt the stabbing pain of bones suddenly growing and breaking, stretching him in places so quickly he felt certain his skin should have burst, but by some miracle it did not. He felt his flesh tear deep within him, felt muscles ripped from their anchors to reattach to his changing skeleton in new ways. And his skin crawled, itched unbearably, as he sprouted fur over every inch of him. He was half-mad with the need to claw at it, but was helpless to do so. His body was no longer under his command. It was still changing in a hundred small ways as he continued to twitch on the floor, screaming in agony all the while. Remus whimpered in empathy but did not relax his ready stance; his posture growing even more assertive as Harry's cries turned to throaty howls.
The pain did not stop when the transformation was finished. Harry had no idea how long it had taken him to change, but it felt far longer than it must have been. Even after the last muscle stitched into place, the last hair sprouted and last tooth tapered to a point, Harry ached as if he'd been beaten thoroughly. His first instinct, though, after regaining the ability to move of his own volition, was to rise to his feet as quickly as possible. But he didn't know how to use this new body. He heard the high-pitched, canine whine pour from his throat as he scrambled to make sense of his new shape, to try and fail to pick himself off the floor. It was confusing and upsetting, and the effort was completely overwhelming. He managed it though, eventually, and found himself, panting, standing upright on strange, unsteady feet.
His brain was cloudy and his thoughts were fragmented, but he could still think...after a fashion. He knew who he was and what had happened to him, but he felt drugged and unable to focus. He glanced around him for Remus, looking for reassurance, trying to shake off his shock and confusion, and was startled by one of the most terrifying sights he'd ever glimpsed.
Harry saw himself in the broken mirror hanging crooked on the nearby wall, his monstrosity reflected back at him several times over, compounding the horror of it.
He looked nothing like Remus. The only thing that distinguished Remus from a real wolf was his size and lack of tail. He was beautiful and graceful. Harry was hideous, at least to his own eyes. He looked as if the transformation had been interrupted before it was completed. His face had lengthened but his almost-snout was stunted, only half as long as Remus'. His face looked more or less human, simply deformed and fur-covered. He had the ears of a wolf, but they were too far down on his head to look properly lupine. His neck had thickened to at least the width of his head, but it sat on human shoulders. His arms were simply longer, and his hands were still hands; however, his fingers had thickened and were padded and clawed.
He was only truly wolfish from his waist down, but his legs were far longer than his arms, so that he still stood upright on them. Though, he was hunched forward with the impulse to stand on all fours; and he suspected he would run using his hands if he had the opportunity and the space. He realized his knees had not changed direction, his legs and feet had simply changed their proportions, so that his knees sat closer to his haunches and he was essentially standing on his toes.
All in all, Harry was monstrous. The cry that escaped him was an inhuman whine, and it was difficult to accept it was made by him. He stumbled, finding it difficult to keep his balance on these unfamiliar limbs as he desperately tried to escape his reflection. Harry staggered back from the mirror, looking down at the coal-black fur that covered his body, and it seemed he tried to escape that as well. He hated it. He hated what he was, and he tripped over himself, falling to the floor again and again, tearing about the room in a panic. He careened off walls, further splintering the rotten boards; tumbled over broken furniture and scored the wooden floor as he scrambled back to his feet, clawing at this new, unwelcome form with hands that seemed good for nothing but destruction, accruing the first of many new scars that would mirror Remus' own.
But in his frenzy he had forgotten about Remus until he heard the low, challenging growl from behind him. Harry's human mind short-circuited at the sound and he felt the beast in him take control. His balance instinctively corrected itself, and he spun on the threat with a deep growl of his own, feeling his lips peel back from his sharp, lengthened fangs as he did so, the hair down his spine standing on end.
The sandy-furred animal that confronted him was aggressive, bold; and though the hybrid felt like lashing out at it, he intuited it would not be wise. He growled even louder than before and drew himself up on his hind legs, bowing his arms to make himself appear larger, trying to intimidate the other creature into backing off...when he was distracted.
The hybrid lifted his nose to sniff the breeze that tore through the broken window. He turned to approach it. The beast behind him yipped, growled in warning; but the hybrid merely glanced back at it, too preoccupied with the delicious scent he'd picked up to focus on the threat. Somewhere outside, there was human blood, human flesh. The hybrid drank in the smell of it, his hunger whetted so keenly he tipped back his head and howled longingly before falling forward on all fours to investigate the room, frantically trying to find a way out of it and down to the feast that awaited him.
The hybrid dug at the door with its massive claws, tearing chunks from the wood, but the sandy-haired creature nipped sharply at his flank, interrupting his progress. He turned to it, snarling, but still backed around the room looking for another exit. His adversary would have none of it. It lunged at him and the two met in a flurry of teeth and claws. The hybrid was strong but clumsy, unable to fend off the other creature's snapping jaws. Finally, with a blind swipe of his paw, he knocked the blond beast away, sending it rolling across the floor to collide with the far wall. The hybrid roared after it to warn it to stay away. But despite the fearsome display, it didn't stay down long. It quickly found its feet, shaking off the attack, and instantly pounced again. The hybrid had nowhere to retreat to and the two collided savagely, chest to chest, each trying to reach the other's throat with gaping jaws.
The hybrid's muzzle was far too small to find purchase, though. They parted and clashed a couple of times more, their snarls and the scrape of their claws on the floorboards echoing clamorously off the walls, deafening even over the howling shriek of the wind; but eventually the hybrid was subdued, wrestled to the floor with his held neck firmly in other animal's jaw.
They both panted heavily, but when Harry relaxed in surrender, pulling his ears back and baring his stomach in a show of submission, Remus released him and carefully stepped back. And Harry recognized him now. Remus had established himself as Alpha and the monster in Harry's blood acknowledged him as such and was quieted, allowing Harry to regain some sense of himself; though, he was still flooded with violent impulse. Harry curled on the floor and shivered, licking at his wounds with a whimper. He was frustrated by his inability to speak, but was slowly coming to terms with his situation. He could still smell Kingsley and McGonagall outside, and the scent beckoned to him, threatening Harry's tenuous hold on reason and self-control. Remus padded over and lay next to him, filling Harry's senses with something other than human blood.
Remus smelled wonderful in ways Harry would not understand in the least once he changed back. Now, though, the two investigated one another cautiously, and Harry found the nuances of Remus' scent heady and addictive. The cocktail of pheromones he released was intoxicating. Harry surprised himself by suddenly licking the side of Remus' face, and he found he tasted wonderful, too. Remus returned the favor, raking his tongue between Harry's eyes and up his forehead, and Harry shivered to his toes. He was amazed that such a simple action could be so simultaneously soothing and exciting. Harry pawed gently at Remus' chest and they nuzzled each other's necks, but Remus was the only one allowed to nip; and as he moved closer, Remus' nips became more aggressive until he had thrown his front leg over Harry's back, grasping Harry's shoulder firmly in his teeth.
Harry realized, suddenly and too late, what was happening and panicked. He stiffened and attempted to rise, but Remus' jaws were like iron. Harry growled, tried to turn his head to snap at Remus, but it was no use. Remus simply growled back, around Harry's shoulder, as he mounted him.
Harry whimpered plaintively as he struggled to crawl from beneath him, but Remus was undeterred and escape was impossible. Their wolf-forms were different, disproportionate, and Remus really was too large for him; though Harry realized, with a shiver of fear and dread, that nothing would stop this. He finally simply lay still as Remus hunched atop him, feeling the invisible bond between them strengthening despite the pain of it.
Though it was forced, it didn't seem as much a violation as Harry expected it might. It wasn't that he enjoyed or disliked it. It was simply what it was. This was not intended to be pleasurable, neither was it intended to harm. It was a ritual, and what might have been abhorrent to Harry in human form seemed perfectly understandable to him in this one. Though Harry might technically be stronger, he was ungainly and inexperienced. Remus was clearly his superior. Harry had been subdued before, but now he surrendered, willingly and completely, to the dominance of his Alpha.
To his Mate.
And when the deed was finally done, Harry felt proud to have been bonded with Remus. Once he finished and released his grip, Remus tenderly licked the place where his fangs had pinched; and Harry lay still and contented, allowing it. Harry was rather surprised to find the process had ultimately been profoundly calming. And though he still occasionally slipped back into the beastial, was still intermittantly overcome with the impulse to fight his way from the Shack and seek out human flesh, Remus was always right there to rein him back, to remind him who he was; and Harry felt certain the effort would not have been nearly so effective if Remus hadn't Claimed him first.
When the moon set, the two of them transformed at the same time. Harry found it just as painful as the first change. Or perhaps more so, since he felt he hadn't recovered yet from the last. When it was over, though, they found themselves laying side-by-side, naked, on the cold wooden floor; and they reached for each other with weak, trembling arms.
"You did so well, my Darling," Remus praised, stroking Harry's face and neck, his voice a ragged whisper, as if his vocal chords were not accustomed to being functional again yet. Harry shivered. The pride he felt at Remus' approval now was ridiculous, actually triggering tears. The ordeal had been as exhausting emotionally as it had been physically. As they lay, Harry felt himself grow steadily weaker while Remus seemed to recover ever so slowly. Finally, the man managed to stagger to his feet and retrieve their clothing. It took a short eternity, but Remus dressed Harry's shivering form first as the young man struggled, rather unsuccessfully, to assist. Remus then dressed himself and collapsed back onto the floor beside Harry, wand in hand, and from there cast a signal through the window alerting the others it was safe to come collect them both.
They held each other as they waited, and Harry didn't need to feel the tenacious new possessiveness in Remus' embrace to recognize the profound shift that had occurred in their relationship. He knew, in his very bones, that Remus now owned him, commanded him. And though he trusted the man, it was frightening. Harry still chafed at the concept, and the most stubborn parts of him were already determined to test his new boundaries. But not that morning. Harry was far too tired to rebel just yet.