DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Ten - In the Wolves Den
Harry halted at the base of the stairs that led up onto the sagging porch, his gaze on the trio standing solemnly on the rotted planks. Draco, surprisingly enough, looked extremely relieved to see him, the blond's lips curling briefly before firming. The expression Andrej wore was a lot less welcoming, his stiff posture and fisted hands clearly demonstrating his displeasure with Harry's arrival. And Draco's as well, the raven-haired male thought, catching the calculating look the older male pinned on Malfoy. Standing between the pair, and obviously oblivious to the gravity of the situation, Jaime smiled brightly while tugging excitedly on the heavy cloth of Andrej's gray cloak.
Drawing a deep breath, Harry tried to muster up some emotion, but could find nothing. He was . . . empty. His brow drew down at the realization and he raised a shaking hand to his chest, taking comfort in the rhythmic thump beneath his palm. The steady beat was strangely reassuring, its presence a definitive sign of his continued existence. Slowly, he lifted his eyes and met Draco's worried gaze, unable to comprehend what he saw there.
"They said you'd come back. Andrej and Steve couldn't tell me when - but they promised you'd return," Jaime said breathlessly, his hazel eyes shining happily. His eager prancing slowed when Harry remained silent, his feet eventually stilling and his smile fading. Appearing suddenly nervous, the young boy glanced up at Andrej, seeking some sign of reassurance from the older male.
Noting the dark expression on Steve's face, Andrej dropped a protective hand to Jaime's shoulder, unconsciously tugging the little boy closer into his side. "We weren't expecting you," he said, tightening his grip on Jaime when he began to squirm in protest. "And Draco's been oddly close-lipped since his arrival." Although the statement was made in a perfectly polite voice, the expression on the blond's face was anything but welcoming.
Without blinking, Harry slowly removed his hand from his chest, his brow furrowing as he gazed unseeing at the older male. "I killed them," he finally said. Those three simple words should have contained a wealth of emotion; instead, they were completely and utterly empty - devoid of any feeling whatsoever.
The unnerving statement caused a wary growl to trickle over Andrej's lips, his large body edging forward to stand protectively in front of Jaime. This time, it was he who sought some sign of reassurance, glancing over Harry's head to where Steve stood silently behind the raven-haired youth. When Steve shook his head in warning, Andrej tugged Jaime aside, leaving the doorway into the house unimpeded. "Perhaps you'd like to come inside," he murmured, gesturing at the shadowy entrance with his free hand.
Completely oblivious to the mounting tension, Harry took a step forward, the crunching snow loud in his ears. His slow advance was halted before he had a chance to set a boot upon the bottom stair, Draco sliding liquidly into Andrej's place at the top of the shallow staircase, pointedly blocking the path into the farmhouse.
"I'll have a word with you in private, Potter." The blond all but snarled. He stepped off the edge of the porch, bypassing the rickety stairs to land silently upon the snow banked against the worn wood. Ignoring the startled look on the dark-haired male's face, Draco sank stiff fingers into the collar of his cloak and hauled him ruthlessly across the clearing. "We'll join you momentarily in the kitchen," he called over his shoulder, giving the gaping trio a dismissive wave.
Harry shook off his surprise and closed his hand around Draco's, sinking his nails into the soft flesh of the blond's inner wrist. An angry growl vibrated his chest, the rumble echoed by Malfoy, who merely tightened his grip and continued to tow him between the naked trees. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He finally spat, attempting to dig his heels into the hardened ground. His eyes widened when he was swung forcefully around, his back slamming into the wide trunk of an old oak tree.
Silver orbs blazing, Malfoy shook himself free of Harry's grip and slid his hand from the cloak's collar to the exposed skin of the male's throat, curling the cool digits threateningly. "What's wrong with me?" He snapped in a savage hiss, pushing his face into Harry's until the tips of their noses brushed. His fingers tightened roughly, his thumb sliding over Harry's jugular in a deadly caress. "What did I say to you, Potter, before we parted? Did you think I was joking when I told you not to stop for anything - or anyone?"
"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to Hermione," Harry whispered, drawing a shaky breath when the fingers resting against his throat stroked gently up and down. He forced himself to draw a deep breath and gazed warily into the swirling sphere's that were only inches from his own. Slowly, he relaxed back against the tree, ignoring the wolf's grumbles for action. "In the past month I've completely offended and disgusted everyone I even remotely considered a friend. So, excuse me for trying to maintain the one friendship I haven't completely destroyed."
Curling a lip in disgust, Draco stepped away from the raven-haired male, his fingers trailing over the steadily pulsing vein in one final taunting reminder. "You reek of that mudblood," he muttered in reply, smoothing his hands down the front of his robes. He straightened the charcoal wool with calm hands, brushing tiny flakes of snow from the heavy cloth. "You're lucky I didn't wait for you. Did you even consider what would have happened to me if I'd been caught? They would have happily placed that bloodbath on my shoulders and locked me away."
Mouth agape, Harry glared in disbelief at the other wizard. "You didn't wait for me?" He all but sputtered, pushing away from the tree and shrugging his robes back into place. When Malfoy failed to respond, he gritted his teeth together and reached for the blond. "What if I'd waited for you? Did you think about that?"
Snorting disdainfully, Draco sidestepped Harry's grasping fingers and whirled around. "Harry, you could no more leave without saying goodbye to Granger than I could leave without packing my extensive and equally expensive wardrobe. You're extremely transparent that way, which would almost be endearing if it weren't so idiotically selfless." He reached out and gave Potter a somewhat patronizing pat on the cheek before swinging around and beginning a long-legged walk back to the farmhouse, gliding among the trees as stealthily as the wolf within him. "Besides, I had to fetch help. If we'd both been caught, we would have been completely fucked. Now, come along, we don't want to keep the pack waiting."
Harry fell in behind the blond, his gait uneven and his mind in turmoil. He wasn't one hundred per cent positive, but he may just have been insulted - or complimented - it was really hard to tell with Malfoy. Raising a hand to rub the still tingling skin of his throat, he shot the other male a dirty look, confused by the brief exchange. For a moment he'd thought Malfoy really cared - my, how quickly that illusion had been shattered. He gave his head a hard shake and dropped his gaze to his palms, eyeing the bloody scratches pensively. If he'd spent a moment longer with Hermione, or an extra minute debating on what to pack, McGonagall and Snape would have caught him. And quite possibly Draco as well, if the blond had stuck around that was. Releasing a heavy sigh, he plodded tiredly after Malfoy, contemplating on whether or not an apology was necessary. And if he could survive the imminent gloating which would surely follow.
He slowed when he entered the clearing that was home to the old farmhouse for the second time that afternoon. The sagging porch was empty now, its earlier occupants having vanished within. It was exactly as he remembered it, though: a dilapidated shack unfit for human habitation much less that of the termites that probably resided in its crumbling walls. Easing his way onto the porch, he eyed the doorway apprehensively, considering the structural merits of the building he'd be calling home for the unforeseeable future. Realizing there was no way to put it off any longer, he stepped into the house and held his breath, releasing it when the floorboards didn't vanish from beneath his soles. He gathered his courage and paced slowly down the short length of hall that led to the back of the house, listening to the murmurs as he drew closer to the kitchen and placed his fingers upon the door that led into the room he'd seen only once before.
Vaguely, Harry noted that the kitchen hadn't changed at all since his last visit. Although, in the light of the late afternoon, it was slightly more depressing. What had been hidden by shadow on his last trip was now revealed by the light of day. Wallpaper, which may once have been a delightful shade of mint green, was now faded to the colour of dead grass. The cupboards drooping above the cracked counter top were all missing their doors, either by design or simple disrepair, it was impossible to tell. Sitting in the center of the room, the scratched and wobbly circular table was a sorry affair, the mismatched chairs surrounding it only adding to its apparent misery.
Ignoring Andrej, Steve, and Jaime, he crossed the kitchen carefully. Gracelessly, he dragged one of those chairs out and collapsed into it, nearly ending up on the floor when it pitched unexpectedly to the left under his weight. He steadied himself on the edge of the table, curling his fingers tightly around the worn maple and staring blankly at the opposite wall. Pain throbbed in his side, the dull ache a reminder of the beating he'd taken in the last hour. The last hour . . . the events of which he couldn't even fully remember. What had happened after he'd blacked out was a mystery, and the wolf wasn't exactly being very forthcoming.
From where he leaned against the kitchen counter, Andrej quietly asked, "What's happened to bring you here so early?" His gaze slid back and forth between Harry and Draco, pausing on the blond when he pulled a large wooden case from the bag that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Malfoy? Potter? An explanation would be nice. Preferably something with more substance than 'I killed them'."
Mindful of his audience, Draco cracked open the hawthorn case and began to rifle through its contents. Glass vials and jars tinkled lightly as he searched for the bottle he wanted, frowning when the particular vessel he needed proved elusive. "Harry was attacked by several of our classmates. It ended . . . badly, to say the least." Lips twisting wryly, he located the bottle he wanted and withdrew it from the case, flipping the locks on the box closed and depositing it carefully back into his bag.
"Exactly how bad did it end?" Steve demanded, eyeing Harry's silent figure.
The interrogation was interrupted by the cackle of an overly large and disheveled raven, the bird winging noisily into the kitchen and landing with a scrabble of talons upon the aged laminate flooring. Tipping its head, the raven released a loud caw before disappearing in a swirl of magic only to be replaced by Fenrir Greyback. Straightening, the old werewolf rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck loudly, the smile on his face hovering somewhere between crazy and feral.
Startled by the transformation, Harry lurched to his feet, a wild snarl falling from his mouth. The wolf whispered through his skull, unfazed by the appearance of the older male. Drawing in a deep breath, he attempted to calm his racing heart, warily watching Greyback out of the corner of his eye. He attempted to sidle silently away from the other werewolf, swallowing when glowing orbs landed squarely upon him. Instinct had him lowering his gaze to the floor, shoulders dropping submissively.
With a delighted laugh, Greyback reached out and seized Harry by the face, cupping his cheeks between callused palms. "How wonderful to find you here, Harry Potter. And how interesting you smell. Like blood and fear and wolf." He raised his hands slowly, forcing the raven-haired male to rise to the toes of his boots, ignoring the quiet whimper that escaped the mouth caught between the heels of his palms. "Did you change?" He questioned, the words emerging in raspy growl.
Emerald orbs watering with the sting of his injured nose being touched, Harry had to shake his head in reply, nearly crying out when he only succeeded in further jarring his nose. He tried to rise up higher on his toes, to relieve his face of the weight of his body, but Greyback merely lifted his hands, forcing him to fight for balance on the tips of his boots. Desperately he searched for a means of escape, his gaze darting about the room until at last landing on Malfoy, and recognizing the lupine calculation occurring behind the shuttered orbs. That familiar gleam in the blond's eyes was almost calming - almost.
Hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, Draco slipped closer to pair. "No," he stated quietly, drawing Fenrir's wild eyes in his direction. "He didn't change." A rumbled warning from Steve had him backing away from the duo. Silver sphere's slitted, he transferred his weight back and forth between his left foot and right, unsure of how to proceed despite the numerous suggestions being whispered through his head.
Expression rapidly changing, Greyback glared down at his captive. "You're positive?" He mumbled, his grip on Harry tightening until he was nearly holding him completely off the floor. The barest hint of a smile crossed his face when the young male continued to struggle ineffectually in his grasp.
"Yes," Draco said forcefully.
"What a shame," Greyback muttered, releasing Harry so suddenly he stumbled backwards and collapsed into the chair he'd occupied earlier. A dark frown creasing his face, he turned toward Draco and leveled a finger at the blond's chest. "Remember your place, whelp. This is my territory and if you can't mind your manners you'll have to leave." Each word was punctuated with a jab to the sternum as he crowded closer to the younger male, forcing Malfoy to retreat several steps until his back was against the wall.
"Harry and Draco were just telling us why they've come to the Glen." Andrej said calmly into the silence. The quiet male dropped a hand to the top of Jaime's head, giving the boy a comforting pat in the wake of the incident he'd just witnessed.
The statement caused Greyback to move away from Draco, his attention returning to Harry and sharpening visibly. "Oh? And what have they told you?" He all but purred, a smirk riding his lips.
"Harry was forced to defend himself against several individuals-"
"I was attacked by a former friend and his lynch mob. I killed them. It was self-defense." Harry said, cutting Draco off pointedly and shooting the blond a look of warning. It was his story to tell. Neither of them would be there if it weren't for his inability to control himself. He lowered his eyes to the floor, awaiting the snide comments and sneers which would surely follow.
Seemingly unperturbed by the announcement, Greyback paced over to where Andrej stood and scooped Jaime up, tossing the boy playfully over his shoulder and bouncing the child lightly up and down until he giggled. Seeing his son's attention diverted, he turned and stared at the dark-haired male, his eyes unusually lucid. "They'll be hunting you now, Harry, and the claim of self-defense will only make them hungrier for your head. You had best lay low for the next few weeks." He turned and left the kitchen then, slowing only to give Steve a murmured order that had both Draco and Harry tensing.
Face set, Steve pushed himself away from the counter and crossed the kitchen, dragging the old door closed on Greyback's heels. With one hand still on the warped wood, the tall blond swung around, exchanging a telling look with Andrej. "I'll need your wands if you're going to remain in the Glen. It's merely a precaution, of course. We can't have the Ministry following your magic to our doorstep."
"They'll be returned should you decide to leave," Andrej added from his place against the cracked counter top. He studied the young pair a moment before tipping his chin at Steve, gesturing him from the kitchen. "We'll give you a moment to discuss your options." Sliding his hands into his pockets, he trailed after the taller blond, disappearing into the shadowed dining room.
As soon as the tail of Andrej's cloak vanished around the doorframe, Harry dropped his head into his hands and silently cursed himself. Malfoy, on the opposite side of the room, felt no qualms about venting his frustrations. The litany of swear words that fell eloquently from the blond's lips as he stalked frenziedly back and forth would have made Harry blush in the past, today, he merely listened with half an ear and nodded in agreement. He couldn't give his wand up. It was his link to magic; a piece of his very being. Simply put, his wand was . . . his.
Ours, the wolf corrected. It paced about within Harry's skull, expressing its displeasure over being backed into a corner. Snared, it added, the word filled with contempt.
"What the fuck are we going to do?" Malfoy finally snapped, whirling around and throwing his hands up. A sharp crack followed the wild gesture, both male's dropping their attention to the floor where a vial rocked gently back and forth upon the curling laminate. Cursing again, Draco snatched the glass bottle off the floor and stormed toward Harry. He wrenched a chair out and flopped gracefully into it, catching up one of Harry's hands and pouring some of the container's contents across the scratched skin. "This is all that stupid Weasel's fault. Him - and his brainless group of cronies."
Harry sat motionless, watching Draco's fingers smooth some sort of salve over the bloody scratches on his palms. They had nowhere else to go; there was no contingency plan. This was, and always had been, the plan. When he and Draco could no longer remain at Hogwarts, they were to report to Greyback and assume their positions within his pack. It had just happened much sooner then anyone had anticipated. He pulled his right hand away from Malfoy and slid it into the pocket of his cloak, withdrawing it to reveal his wand. For a moment he simply held it, his knuckles almost whitening as he studied its length, before slowly reaching out and placing it on the kitchen table. "What choice do we have?" He asked Draco softly, raising his gaze to meet the blond's.
Draco held Harry's eyes for several deep breaths, reading the thoughts that raced so transparently behind the shimmering emeralds. Sighing, he dragged his own wand from the depth of his cloak's pocket and placed it next to Potter's, his fingers lingering lovingly on the worn wood. "If anything happens to me because I didn't have my wand, I'm going to beat you senseless," he informed Harry baldly.
"If it comes to that Malfoy, I'll let you." Harry returned with a small smile. His nose twitched and his head turned, the smile sliding from his face at the sight of Andrej and Steve. "We'll stay . . . for now." He informed the pair after a moment's hesitation.
"Wonderful," Andrej said, his voice cheerful. He crossed the kitchen in a liquid glide, eyeing the wands before smiling at the pair seated before him. "Why don't I give you a tour of the Glen?" Smile still in place, he turned and led the way from the room, obviously expecting the duo to follow.
Stomach churning, Harry rose dutifully and followed, sparing one last glance for his wand. Hands balling into fists, he tamped down the urge to run back and grab his wand and flee the farmhouse. After all, he had nothing left to lose.
XxXxX
The Glen was finally quiet save the occasional creak of wood and the mournful howl of the wind beyond the crumbling brick and rotting wood. After a day fraught with emotion, the silence was as welcome as the mattress beneath Harry's back; and although it was worn and stained suspiciously, the narrow twin pad was more than he had expected.
His bruised ribs twinged in protest when he stretched slowly, the dull ache finally having faded to a point where it was almost unnoticeable. Yawning widely, he rolled over onto his back and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep - a state that seemed beyond his reach this night.
It had been a small comfort to learn that the majority of the pack lived elsewhere; only Andrej, Steve, Jaime, and Fenrir actually occupying the ramshackle farmhouse. And now he and Draco would join that list, Harry thought, rolling over and pillowing his cheek on his upper arm. Of course, given the state of the house, it was hard to imagine anything living within its crumbling walls. As it was, there were only two usable rooms on the second floor; one of which was shared by Andrej and Steve. He was expected to share the second chamber with Malfoy, a point which was inarguable due to a lack of other options. Their arrival, in fact, had displaced Jaime, who was now sleeping before the fire in the kitchen. The attic was Fenrir's territory - which was afforded a picturesque view of the moon courtesy of the gaping hole in the roof.
Shifting restlessly, he rolled over onto his other side, attempting to find a comfortable position on the thin mattress. In the faint light passing through the sheet tacked over the window, he could see the glitter of Draco's eyes in the darkness. The other wizard was laying on his back with a heavy duvet pulled up to his chin, his chest rising and falling steadily. Brow creasing, Harry studied Malfoy wearily, pondering the male's decision to aid him and thus leave Hogwarts forever.
"Having trouble sleeping, Potter?" The blond asked in a quiet murmur, his gaze never leaving the naked planks overhead. There was no trace of disdain or disgust in his voice when he spoke Harry's last name, merely the slightest hint of amused fondness. Springs squeaking in protest, he turned over onto his side and studied Harry with tired eyes, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand.
"Why did you come?" Harry returned, his voice just as quiet. Confusion caused his brow to furrow when the blond's lips kicked up at the corners, the reaction not at all what he had expected. That shouldn't really have surprised him, though, as Draco's actions throughout the day had completely contradicted the conversation they had had earlier. For someone who expressed an appreciation for the finer things in life, Malfoy had come to the wrong place. Frown firmly in place, he waited for the blond to respond.
Still wearing a small smile, Draco allowed his lids to slip down, concealing any thoughts that may have been visible in the silver spheres. Why had he come here? It was a hastily made decision that he was still questioning, its consequences as of yet still unknown. He had chosen a life of hardship and isolation, the exact opposite of which he was accustomed to. Here, there would be no one to make his meals or do his laundry. No house elf to fetch him whatever he desired. Opening his eyes, he stared across the short distance between them, attempting to find the best suitable response for a question he wasn't sure even had an answer. "There was no reason for me to remain at Hogwarts any longer," he finally said, knowing the quiet murmur left much to be desired.
"Bullshit," Harry whispered. "That's an incredibly lousy explanation and you know it, Malfoy."
"Perhaps I couldn't imagine life without you," Draco replied in a quiet drawl. He shifted slightly, trying to find a more forgiving position on the worn mattress. When he had finished wiggling about, he frowned, finding a new set of springs boring their way into his back.
Scoffing softly, Harry pushed himself up onto an elbow and glared at Draco, noting the perfectly blank mask the blond wore. "You had it made at Hogwarts. Slytherin House practically pandered to you. Crabbe and Goyle followed you around like they were your private security force. Your damn Godfather was your Head of House-"
"Just leave it the fuck alone, Potter!" Draco snapped, jerking up and leaning towards Harry. His eyes shimmered silver and a rumble spilled over his lips, the threat extremely real.
Any reply Harry may have made was cut off by a loud thump against the wall.
"If the pair of you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to come in there," Steve promised in a muffled snarl.
Deciding it best not to tempt the older male, Harry dropped back down to the mattress and dragged the heavy blanket up to his chin. He lay there silently for several minutes, listening to the various noises of the creaky old farmhouse, trying to figure out what exactly had started the argument between himself and Malfoy. Drawing a blank, he turned back on his side and eyed the blond's still figure. "They almost caught me this afternoon. Doesn't that seem strange to you?" He waited for the other male to respond, growing impatient with the blond's continued silence. "Between the time you found me and the time I exited the library, Snape and McGonagall were looking for me. For me."
At that, Draco stirred, rolling to the left to peer at Harry through the darkness. He frowned, brow furrowing in thought. "We've missed something. There was, perhaps, twenty minutes for someone to locate the bodies and then find a professor. But to find both Snape and McGonagall and deduce that the culprit was you? I suppose that could be considered odd under the circumstances." He nibbled his lower lip, listening to the dulcet voice of the wolf within his thoughts.
"They could have gone to Dumbledore," Harry reasoned in a soft voice. Try as he might, and despite the numerous options offered up by his wolf, he couldn't understand how he'd almost been captured.
Draco shook his head. "Hogwarts would have been locked down. You never would have made it out."
Sighing, Harry lolled back onto the bed and folded his arms over his abdomen. "Perhaps," he murmured, still not convinced. His eyes had grown heavy while whispering with Malfoy and he allowed himself a wide yawn before snuggling deeper into the mound of stolen blankets, deciding it was a mystery that could wait for another day. "Goodnight, Draco."
"Hm," the blond replied, rolling away from Harry and dragging the flat pillow over his head.
Despite the pull of sleep, Harry's mind still wanted to wander, to find the answer to this most perplexing problem. They were missing something. Something important. Lips pulling down, he turned over, listening to the sound of Draco's breathing even out as he slipped into sleep. Tomorrow, he promised himself as his eyes slipped closed, they would figure it out.
XxXxX
The front parlor of Grimmauld Place was bathed in shadows, which suited Remus Lupin to perfection. Staring forlornly into the fire crackling in the hearth, the old werewolf curled his nails into the stone mantle and cursed angrily. He had told Albus that Harry needed to come home. He had told them this would happen! Lips peeled back from his teeth, he whirled away from the fire and stormed across the dark room, wheeling around when he reached the far wall and stomping back across its length.
He'd gone immediately to Hogwarts when he'd received the urgent fire-call from Albus. However, the Headmaster's grim warning had not prepared him for the scene that had met his eyes upon his arrival. The blood splattered walls and sheet draped bodies were a shock; the stack of stained photographs he'd been handed even-more-so. Then, before he'd finished studying the telling pictures, he'd been presented with three more photos, those which had been taken by Colin Creevey as he'd fled the slaughter. He'd seen not a shred of humanity in those three pictures of Harry, unable to look past the eerily glowing emeralds and bloody features to the frightened boy that surely lurked beneath.
And now Harry was gone, his unexpected disappearance only adding to the drama. Remus hadn't expected the younger male to vanish quite so quickly. Then again, Greyback was extremely wily, and there wasn't a doubt in Remus's mind that the feral werewolf had aided Harry's escape; Snape's broken arm and bruised face were testament to that. It was truly a scary thought: Harry's young malleable mind in the hands of someone as crazed as Fenrir.
He would have to hunt them down . . . wherever they were hiding. Of course, it could take weeks, maybe even months to track down Greyback and his band of wolves. They would be on the move now, attempting to protect the prize they had worked so hard for. Harry, poor Harry.
With a disheartened huff, Remus dropped into one of the chairs before the dying fire, dropping his head into his palms. If only Albus had listened to him . . . but he hadn't, and now it was too late. There would be no collar for Harry when he was found, only a cage from which he would never be released. How had he let it come to this? How had he failed James and Lily so miserably? Face buried in his hands, he wept alone in the dark.
XxXxX
Harry's eyes flipped open and he shot up on the narrow mattress, his unexpected awakening causing his silent observer to skitter backwards into the wall. Blinking, he gazed blearily at the intruder, sleepily pondering the reason for his presence. Keeping one eye on the small shadow huddled against the faded wallpaper, he turned his head and searched for Draco in the early morning light, finding the blond buried beneath his blankets, presumably still asleep. Strangely reassured at finding his roommate still present, he cautiously lowered himself back onto his elbows and studied Jaime with an uneasy combination of curiousity and trepidation.
"Are you mad at me?" Jaime whispered in a voice filled with worry. His hazel eyes were locked on the floor between his feet and he was wringing his hands anxiously, appearing quite distressed at the possibility. When Harry failed to answer, he lifted his gaze and found the dark-haired male gaping at him in apparent confusion. "Are you mad at me for what I did?" He asked again, though this time his voice was pitched slightly higher.
Emerald orbs widening, Harry continued to gap at Jaime, not quite understanding what the little boy meant. "Is something wrong?" He asked instead, ignoring the question in favour of glancing in the direction of the doorway. When the little boy only seemed to grow more agitated, he straightened from his relaxed slump and knotted his hands in the blankets bunched in his lap, preparing to get out of bed. "Is everything alright, Jaime?"
Drawing a deep breath, Jaime lifted his chin arrogantly and folded his arms over his small chest. "Are you mad at me for what I did?" He asked yet again, though this time the tone of his voice demanded an immediate answer.
Brow furrowing, the dark-haired male stared at the little boy in confusion, turning the question over in his mind. "What did you do?" He inquired moments later, mystified.
Eyes dropping back to the dusty boards, Jaime scoffed a sock-clad toe against the floor and mumbled, "I bit you." He darted a quick look up at Harry, searching the older male's features for signs of anger or hatred.
The whispered confession was full of shame and guilt, emotions which were out of place in one so young. And innocent, Harry thought, staring at the top of Jaime's lowered head. While the young boy may have been the cause behind his current condition, he was in no way the one to blame. Jaime was nothing but an abused tool, and that was something Harry understood.
Offering the boy a sad smile, Harry shook his head slowly. "I'm not mad at you," he said in a quiet voice. A low grumble of warning barely muffled by the mound of covers blanketing him escaped from Draco, the sound turning Harry's head in the blond's direction. With a disgruntled sigh, the raven-haired youth clambered cautiously to his feet and stretched, testing his body for lingering aches. Finding nothing, he gestured Jaime from the room, following the boy closely. It seemed almost natural to reach out and place a gentle hand on Jaime's shoulder, to direct him silently down the rickety stairs to the warm sanctuary of the kitchen.
He stepped tentatively into the sunlit room and halted, eyes sweeping the kitchen for some sign of life. "Where is everyone?" Harry asked in a whisper. His gaze swung back to find Jaime, watching as the little boy dragged out a kitchen chair and climbed up into it. The protesting groan of old wood and a rush of cold air had him spinning around, eyes widening slightly as Andrej stepped through the back door.
Smelling of winter and smoke, the blond smiled in greeting and deposited a basket upon the counter. "Attending their duties," he said, his smile widening at the confused look on the dark-haired male's face. "Every member of the pack has to contribute to the pack's overall welfare. I've gotten eggs for breakfast. Steve . . . was supposed to be keeping an eye on Jaime," Andrej explained, shooting a small frown at the child.
Suddenly feeling a little worried, Harry began to mentally compile a list of things he could do that might benefit the pack. Worry warred with confusion when Andrej lifted a large axe from next to the backdoor, offering it silently to him handle first. He tentatively accepted the sharp looking blade, glancing back and forth between the tool and Andrej. Surely they expected something more from him than cutting wood?
"We'll need enough to last us all day and tomorrow morning. There's an old sleigh next to the door that you can use." Task assigned, Andrej turned back to his basket of eggs, giving Harry a moment of privacy to accept the sudden change in his life. Undoubtedly, the boy had never chopped wood in his life.
Harry stared at the axe, almost in awe of what it suddenly represented. If he were at Hogwarts, he'd be sitting at the Gryffindor Table shoveling bacon thoughtlessly into his mouth. This axe was his freedom from the mundane and sheltered life he'd been living. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. The chance to learn everything he needed to know and would never be taught at Hogwarts. A small smile curled his lips and he placed the blade next to the door, darting from the kitchen to fetch his cloak. If he was chopping wood, he could only begin to wonder what menial job they'd find for Malfoy.
A/n: Sorry and thank-you, as always.