Chapter 2: Werewolf's Revenge
A/N: Finally, the second chapter is finished. I am aware that I switched to third person when I came to the part of the story that had Tonks and Harry. It just seemed to work better for some reason since they aren't really the main focus of the story. Also, I added to the last chapter that the day Remus left was the day before Harry's birthday. Anyway, enjoy and please review!
The guards opened the double doors, stepping back and beckoning for me to enter. I stepped forward, walking steadily, though admittedly faltering as I heard the doors slam shut behind me, the guards watching carefully. I shuddered as I stopped in the front of the throne; my head down as was customary. There was no turning back. My fate was sealed. I looked up at the soft sound of footsteps.
"Well, well, well. Remus Lupin." I could do nothing but stare as my wolf's creator (and therefore, in a way, mine) stepped down from his chair and slowly approached me.
"I know who you are Remus Lupin," he said, finally reaching me, his voice little more than a threatening whisper as he moved closer, now touching me. "A traitor, one who dares mingle with wizarding kind," he said, holding me, as I instinctively let myself fall limp in his arms, acting on the instinct to not challenge his control. He was my pack leader, my better. Caressing me dangerously, face buried in my neck, his lips traced my veins lustfully. Then, in one swift, startling movement, he brought pain.
I howled in agony, falling to the floor, convulsing, back arching in pain as I felt his bite, once again, at the base of my neck. Still, he held on, lapping at my wounds, relishing in the taste of my blood once more as it seeped out of my body, only to bury sharpened fangs into them again, penetrating them over and over.
Swiping his hand across my mutilated neck, he spread my blood across my chest, painting my cheek, shoulder and collar bone with it, claw-like fingernails scrabbling purposefully at raw flesh. Blood was everywhere, spurting out of my neck, dribbling through the corners of Fenrir's mouth. It was on him, it was on me, it was everywhere. We were a scene of red horror, connected by the thick, sticky substance.
I struggled for consciousness, writhing all the while, feeling the weight of him on me. I was thrashing, striving to get him off me, to stop this torture. But for nothing, he would always still be there. Kissing up and down my neck, probing its inner tissue and vein, biting punishingly, demonstrating to me that he was the pack leader and I, as his pup, had over-stepped my boundaries.
"Next Moon, Remus Lupin," He said through a muffled, inhaled breath, "Be in the Clearing." He left me, slowly, biting still at my neck, as he got up. With one last lick, he was gone, and I was left on the smooth, dirt floor, panting, throat hoarse from screaming, longing for the darkness to come and take me.
"Remus?" Harry, called, heedless of Mrs. Black's inevitable shrieks. Dropping his bags on the floor just beyond the front door, Harry walked up the stairs, consciously ignoring the house-elves' heads. He walked down the hall past the neatly lined, but dusty, row of portraits and magical, moving pictures, poking his head into various doors in turn.
"Remus?" Rolling his eyes, Harry realized that even if Remus had been there, he wouldn't have been able to hear over Sirius' mum. Harry stomped over to the curtains. After a tussle that lasted for about fifteen minutes, the curtains were finally closed. Harry stepped back, slightly fatigued and admittedly worried. Surely Remus would've heard the racket and come to help? He wouldn't even had needed to look for the source. Everyone knew about the dreaded upstairs portrait, Remus especially.
Grabbing his bags from downstairs, Harry started to settle himself in his usual room, feebly convincing himself that Remus was fine, that he probably was just out somewhere. Besides, it wasn't like Harry was expected at Grimmauld Place. He wasn't even sure if anyone besides Dumbledore knew that Harry no longer had to stay with the Dursleys after his seventeenth birthday, which was, coincidentally, today. Happy Birthday to me, Harry thought, glumly.
After a few anxious minutes, Harry heard the front door open downstairs. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry started downstairs. But his nervousness heightened once again as he saw that the figure in the doorway was that of Tonks and not Remus.
"Wotcher, Harry." Tonks said, winking in her usual way, "Didn't expect you here. Groceries." She explained, misinterpreting Harry's silence and lifting up the bags for him to see.
"Tonks," Harry said grimly, "Remus is gone." Seconds later, the bags tumbled to the floor.
I awoke in the dark. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, however, I began to discern a dirt wall. Looking around, I noted the metal door with a barred window. I was their prisoner. There was nothing I could do but wait for the next full moon.