The Leader

Chapter 22

Edited by Jake and Jordre - Thank You Guys!

Reunions

"Sara, Rachel, May, show them the facilities," said Harry, speaking to the three female werewolves who looked as though they were just getting ready to settle down for the night. They preferred sleeping in their den... well, those that didn't have a home or couldn't afford one at any rate, which was quite a few of them. The area designated as the den was really large, and filled with all sorts of furs they'd cured and tanned themselves. They were too proud to take money, but occasionally, when he knew they wanted something, he would ask them to do something for him out of the norm and paid them for their service. They were smart and knew what he was up to, but since it wasn't charity they didn't mind too much. He had led Greyback and his two companions to the far side of the warehouse where the females waited; that section was rarely used by most of Harry's people, just by the werewolves, since it was closer to the entrance to their den.

"Of course," said Sara. "Follow me," she added to the newcomers, not having to ask which facilities were required― they stank of something foul. The stench clogged up their noses; sometimes having greater acuity of smell wasn't a good thing. Sara couldn't help but stare at the blonde-haired werewolf in the group of visitors; despite the mud all over him, he was gorgeous. And those eyes... she could get lost in them for hours.

Greyback inhaled sharply, finding the only scents in the building were of his cub and a female werewolf. The hair on the back of his neck prickled slightly at the thought of letting the vampires out of his line of sight, but considering they had given him back someone precious…someone he never thought he'd get to hold again, he knew he should give them the benefit of the doubt. He was curious though; Snape was a Death Eater, he had seen him at many meetings... He could also smell the sickness running through his veins. Snape was the only one who wasn't afraid of him. He was the most powerful Death Eater Voldemort had; the werewolf could sense it and it was intimidating ― even to him, although he'd never admit it.

"Thank you," said Michael, which brought Greyback out of his thoughts, to find himself in a large airy bathroom, if it could be called as such. The warehouse hadn't half undergone some major construction. He certainly didn't expect to see something like this. To his left was a large pool that was bubbling away, filled with the calming scents of jasmine and lavender, the same smell the female werewolves were exuding; they'd obviously just had a bath. In front of him were perhaps ten stalls for showers; at the back were enclosed toilets, and to his right, cupboards which he assumed was probably filled with towels and such.

"Let me get this done for you," said Rachel, speaking for the first time as she quickly banished the water already in the pool, and turned on the taps. Sara moved over to the cupboards and removed three towels, three face cloths, three scrubbers and a bottle of oil which she promptly poured into the water. The room quickly began to smell of lemon and lime, a rejuvenating smell. Considering how long tonight was going to be ― they needed it.

"Would you like me to do your back?" asked Sara, moving around the blonde she'd set her sights on, gazing at him in a way that was unmistakable. The scent of arousal quickly wafted around the room, causing Greyback to roll his eyes, but he said nothing. He was removing his clothes hastily as he stepped towards the pool; he wanted to see his son. And after this there would be no other reason for him to be parted from his cub. May grinned at Sara; she wasn't shy, never had been― she had no fear of rejection. May grabbed a few bottles of shower gel and placed them at the side of the pool.

"Yes," Michael said in agreement, his eyes never wavering from hers as he removed his dirty clothes, glad to be out of them. In fact, he was glad he'd been able to stop moving for more than a few minutes at a time. He was hoping his Alpha would remain here at least for one night. He certainly wasn't going to leave, at least not yet, he couldn't help but muse as those dainty hands led him towards the pool.

"May I help you, Alpha?" murmured May, gazing at him almost shyly as she stood beside the pool. She wasn't perturbed in the slightest by the fact her two friends were already in and 'helping' the two other visitors. There was no way they would be getting any sleep tonight, maybe she had best stay here. She was nowhere near as confident as them; plus, the Alpha was much more intimidating then the two others her friends had claimed for their own.

Fenrir's blue eyes gazed at the woman before he wordlessly nodded his acceptance. He could feel her hesitance, and it nearly raised his hackles that a werewolf would feel like that around him. It wasn't what he had envisioned as he went about creating his pack, which he had failed so egregiously. Five of his pack had died, and he couldn't solely place the blame on these people; it wasn't as if he could have expected them just to lay down when his pack attacked. No, it was his fault for coming back after the first time, which had been a big failure. Once upon a time he had had the biggest pack in the UK; the same couldn't be said anymore. A purring rumble left his lips as those hands worked his shoulders, expertly working out the knots; she was good, he had to give her that.

The dirt and grime was slowly but surely coming away from their bodies, leaving behind their tanned, muscled forms. May summoned a cup, and moved Fenrir's head so that she could pour water over his quite frankly disgusting hair. She would never say that to any Alpha though, never mind this one. She'd seen him fighting... but what they would all agree on, was that they would have all done the same thing. Children were a rarity that werewolves were not often afforded, and they were always the males'; it wasn't as if the females could have children.

She used her magic to get rid of most of the dirt in that mop of hair, before lathering it with as much shampoo as she could. She scrubbed as hard as she dared to make sure the roots were getting cleaned too. He didn't seem to mind, if the deep, contented rumbling was anything to go by. May laughed softly at Sara, she was so impatient, the poor guy wasn't getting a chance to enjoy the warmth; she was already urging him out of the tub.

"You don't have to do that, I'm sure there's some clothes here your size," said Sara, seeing him trying to clean the grime off his clothes. She moved towards the door, her long brown hair swinging as she walked. "Accio clothes box!" There was always plenty of unused stuff in there. She wasn't even sure how it started, but she hadn't been there when her Leader began creating this safe heaven. Grabbing it as it barrelled towards her, she began to rummage around, until she found a pair of jeans and a black vest; he would look gorgeous in it, she thought to herself, grinning winningly.

"Here, these will fit you," she said, passing them over before she began to rummage again, looking for something the other two would be able to fit into. Once she found some, she placed them on the sink, before banishing the box back to the cupboard it usually sat in.

She'd been right, he was gorgeous in that outfit. Feeling smug, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room.

May shook her head as she finished cleaning off Fenrir. There was no doubt he was beginning to get impatient. She would be too; they'd only speculated how long the little boy had been away from his father... and it seemed like a long time. Using her magic again, she cut and trimmed his hair ―not too much, just in case he preferred it long― but so all the split ends were gone. It was remarkable what mud could do to someone; she had to admit he looked good when he was clean. She had the urge to rake her hands up and down his tanned, muscular torso, and the hair growing on his face gave him a rugged, handsome look.

"There," she said softly, backing up. She knew he had no interest in her whatsoever, and yes, she could smell that through the fog of arousal the others were letting off. She hastily climbed up the steps, drying herself off and putting her clothes on.

Fenrir followed her; another time…another place, he would have definitely been interested. Instead he just towelled himself off, trying to get out of there as soon as possible. Linus and the female werewolf were practically humping each other in the water, not something he cared to see if he could help it. He got dressed in the new clothes that had been laid out for him; surprisingly they fitted him perfectly.

"I'll take you down," said May, scampering from the room, while Fenrir gratefully followed.

"Alpha, are we leaving?" enquired Linus, pushing back his shorter brown hair from his face, which had been obstructing his view.

"Not yet," grunted Fenrir before he closed the door behind him, leaving the two to do whatever they wanted in privacy. Unfortunately, in a pack…privacy was the first thing that you lost, along with modesty and shyness. Although they always made sure to bugger off whenever anyone was at it. Just like he was doing... but usually it was the other way around, them buggering off while he mated. As they wandered down the stairs, he could smell meat; it made his stomach grumble loudly. He hadn't eaten anything in days; neither had his betas.

A loud possessive growl left his lips before he could even realise that he was doing it; he didn't like the fact his cub was clutching a vampire…the leader or not. The growl caught his cub's attention, but he wasn't scared, as familiar blue eyes gazed at him. Then his little boy was running towards him, a very wolfish whine leaving his lips as he barrelled into him. Fenrir scooped him up, clutching him close to his chest. A purring sound leaving his throat, he inhaled sharply, filling his nose with the scent of his little cub. He paid no attention to those still in the room, his sole focus was his son.

There was only one pair of amber eyes staring at the scene with something other than reverence; they were filled with rage, hatred, and raw pain. It was about to burst out of him, Remus moved forward, not even thinking now, running on instincts alone. Flawed instincts that that, since he knew he couldn't take on a werewolf like Greyback and win. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, a hand pressed into his chest stopping him from advancing any further on Greyback. He didn't make a sound, just glared at Harry before belatedly realizing what he'd done.

"Ease up," warned Harry. "There is no fighting in here, if you start, you leave. If you want to fight, fight outside at the arena, and not in the middle of the night. Now go, get out of here." The anger was building up to epic proportions in Remus Lupin as he watched the scene furiously. Harry gave him a shove for good measure, watching as his face twisted in anguish before Remus Apparated away; he wasn't happy with Harry the slightest.

"Why did you do that?" groaned Severus, slightly cross. Now that would have been something he'd have died to see. Then again, it hadn't been as half as amusing as it would have been ten years ago, to see what Harry did maybe. He did not like Lupin much…or at all, really― who was he trying to kid? He'd just like to give Lupin a taste of his own medicine.

"I'd rather not let a child see his father kick the shit out of someone until they're bloody... well not yet, in a few months he will be fine," replied Harry, his lips twisted into a wry smirk.

"Do fights normally get that bad?" enquired Severus, still so curious about everyone.

"No, Jack would go crazy if they did," said Harry, "So would I for that matter. They fight, but never to the extent of wounding each other badly."

"I see," replied Severus, nodding curtly.

"I'm returning to the manor. I do not want disturbed unless it's something very important, is that understood?" Harry announced loudly, his tone demanding.

"Yes, Sir," chorused the voices, used to their Leader's ways.

"Good," said Harry. Turning to Severus, he grabbed him and Apparated them out before they could be questioned further.

As soon as Harry and Severus appeared in the sitting room of Potter Manor, Dobby was in front of him, offering him his usual cup of lukewarm blood. Harry gladly took it, despite the fact he would be drinking from Severus in less than half an hour, with a little luck. He never thought he would be turning anyone; at least not the way Kai had turned him, which was infinitely more painful than a normal turning. Longer too, but it was the only way Severus would live to see his next birthday. Who would have thought it? Months ago he had been about to kill him to teach Dumbledore a lesson, that he didn't go back on his word. At least he didn't normally, at any rate.

"You might want to go and get yourself some books to read, you're quite literally going to be stuck to a bed for a fortnight," stated Harry calmly, sitting on the chair as he drank the blood. This wasn't as pleasurable as usual, since he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into Severus. The power in those veins…it sang to him, as if it knew he would be consumed by it. His teeth ached to bite into that vulnerable flesh.

"What is it like?" asked Severus, staring at Harry with an odd gleam in his eyes.

Green eyes stared at him, "If you want me to say it's easy, then you will be sorely disappointed."

"I'm rarely disappointed," Severus told Harry sardonically.

"It takes a long time to get used to your heightened powers, vision, and strength. You think all the time in the world could prepare you for it, but there is nothing that can," confessed Harry, "You will be able to hear the animals down in the farm, the rustling of hay, the wind as though it's whirling through a pipe. The turning of pages; things you couldn't even imagine having sound suddenly does. A human speaking to you sounds like they're shouting, ready to burst your eardrums. Hell, you'll even hear the spells forming as they leave your hand or wand."

"All vampires can do Wandless magic?" asked Severus in surprise, as his heart thumped painfully in his chest. He'd always thought he had a way with words; Harry did as well.

"Certain spells, yes, but I am quite unique in my abilities. Kai often thought it was the way I was turned; perhaps when this is over we will find out," said Harry, placing the empty cup on the table without even glancing to see if it was on properly. "The truth of the matter is... Vampires don't bother trying, they have no need for it. We are fast, dangerous and lethal enough without a wand." Which was the reason that humans and wizards alike were terrified of them; even werewolves had speed beyond that of a human or wizard.

"And the blood?" wondered Severus.

"Never gets old," was all Harry had to say on that subject. Severus would experience it on his own, and it was extremely…intimate. The nectar that kept them alive wasn't just some trial vampires went through. It was the best experience of their week or day, depending on how often you drank. It was addictive; thrilling, as if you were doing something illegal. Almost as good as sex― only almost, but definitely close enough. "You'll see,"

"Apparently," was all Severus had to say.

"Let's get this started," said Harry, standing up. The quicker they got to it, the quicker Severus would be healed, and then he could enact his vengeance on Callahan. He had a reputation to keep, and if word got out he was sparing them, others might think he was going soft. He wasn't, and in two weeks' time, they would feel the full force of his wrath, which was excellent timing. He knew by the time Severus was officially one of them... he would want to let off some steam.

Sometimes having responsibilities sucked, but he wouldn't want it any other way. He just hoped that somehow Vampires did get to go to the other side, and that Kai was happy with him.

"You aren't going to bite me, are you?" asked Severus, sitting down, starting to get angst-ridden and worried.

"A single bite will start changing you. It's why we cannot take human lovers, the urge to bite and claim is strong, especially during sex," said Harry, "Given time you learn to control the urge, which I have, but you always have to be careful, which is why I prefer my own kind." This, of course, was vampires. He could bite without infecting someone, which by the way required a lot of bloody sheer willpower. "If you don't want me to bite you, then you can slice your arm open near the mark."

Severus couldn't have prevented the flare of jealousy as Harry spoke, the thought of him with something else twisted at his insides. He squashed it down, trying not to think about it. Harry had made no move, given no indication that he was even the slightest bit interested in him. Then again, neither had he, but that was different. He was used to being dropped as if he didn't matter ― he'd realized young it was better to pretend you didn't care, even if you did. Lily had proven him correct in that regard; unfortunately he hadn't been as old as he was now. Being unable to control his emotions was reminding him of his teenager years, and it had to stop.

"Remove your top, let me see your arm," said Harry, sliding a chair over and sitting down, managing to tower over Severus slightly. He made sure the bin was right next to him before adding. "Bite or knife?"

Severus stared at him balefully, before he hissed under his breath and reluctantly removed his top, baring his arm, Dark Mark and all. He loathed showing it; the urge to put his top back on was very strong, but he knew this had to happen. He wasn't going to give Voldemort the pleasure of killing him. Oh no, he would die on his own terms, or fighting; either way, he wasn't about to let Voldemort or Dumbledore get the best of him. It was funny how quickly his attitude could change. Then again, he had just been tortured to the brink of insanity, then forced to do more of Dumbledore's bidding. Which admittedly had been one of the best things the old fool had ever done for him. He felt at peace here, more so than at Hogwarts ― since nobody just barged into his rooms now, as well as the fact he had nothing to hide here. He could openly use his magic as he pleased, brew potions the idiotic Ministry had deemed 'illegal'. "Just get it over with," he said, trusting him... like he'd never trusted anyone else.

Harry rolled his eyes at his dramatics; he was acting like he hadn't been biting him to draw the poison from him. Grabbing his hand and elbow he bit into the flesh and began to suck the poison from him, spitting it out into the bin, before he sucked more and more, spitting and sucking until the blood he drew out was free of the poison. Only then did he drink it, three gulps, and it was heaven. He had to stop himself from moaning and losing himself to the feed. Pulling back after licking the wound closed, he panted harshly; fuck, the magic in him was strong, very strong, and it gave him a high.

"It's done," rasped Harry, "Give me the potion."

Severus hastily dug into the bag. Instead of vials it was in cups, which were sealed so none of the potion got out. Vials were far too small for what they were doing with this particular potion. He managed to find it and place it shakily on the table. He was dizzy, and he wasn't sure if it was euphoria or the fact he had lost blood. He had a sneaky feeling that it might be both.

"What are you doing?" snapped Severus in alarm, seeing Harry savagely biting into his own skin, before squeezing his arm and allowing the blood to ooze out and into the potion... turning it from purple to deep red with a purple hue. When he was finished, he licked his arm and it promptly healed as if he'd done nothing.

"Vampire skin is impenetrable by anything man-made; the only danger to us is certain Goblin-made weaponry, which I don't have lying around. The only alternative I had was using my teeth, which is the only other thing that can penetrate my skin," explained Harry, once his arm had stopped stinging like mad.

"I didn't think anything was fatal to a vampire," stated Severus, surprised.

"We don't advertise it, Severus; if the Ministry knew…it wouldn't end well," Harry's voice was grim and ominous.

"No, I don't suppose it would," said Severus just as darkly.

"You might want to be properly in the bed," said Harry pointedly.

Severus glared at him; his lips pressed together preventing the sarcastic retort leaving his lips.

"Believe me, the room will spin pretty bloody fast; your body is going to be de-aged," stated Harry unimpressed. "It won't be as painful as being aged, but it will still be painful; your body is being forced to de-age, as well as the starting process of freezing with the vampire blood."

Severus felt extremely odd, but did as he was told, probably for the first time in a very long while without complaint. He just told himself that Harry had gone through it, he intimately knew what it was like ― and he was still in the dark when it came to the effects these potions were going to have on him. To make matters worse, it would continue for a fortnight before it would be finished. Breathing deeply, he grasped the potion in his hand. Well, thought Severus, here goes. He threw the potion back, gagging in disgust but forcing himself to drink it down. Dear Merlin, that was bloody nasty. His stomach was rolling; he pressed his hand into his stomach groaning, and then agony swept through him, taking his mind off his stomach completely.

He was aware of nothing other than the torture his body was going through. He couldn't even unlock his jaw to scream and allow himself some release.

Will Fenrir And Remus Come To Blows? Will The Truth Of What Happen Finally Come Out? Will Severus Join Harry and the Others When They Confront Callahan? R&R