The Leader

Chapter 31

Severus gazed around, his senses in overdrive; the smell of werewolf blood was repugnant and filled the air, making him choke in disgust. Gagging some more, he thought, dear Merlin, how were the others able to stand being in the vicinity? He finally understood why the werewolves and vampires tended to avoid each other! He could only imagine how he smelt to them.

"Hold your breath, remember you don't need oxygen to survive; turn off the human instincts, they're no good to you now," Harry told Severus grimly, before turning back to the seriously injured werewolves. "See to Greyback first, he seems to have the most serious injuries. It looks to me like his liver and kidneys have taken the worst of the assault; get a potion to stop the internal bleeding and repair the damage, immediately."

"They're bringing the entire cupboard down," Jack revealed, as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from one of the werewolves. It seemed as though what remained of Greyback's pack had come here, even those they hadn't met formally ― fighting didn't count.

"We've got them!" Rachel proclaimed as she ran in with May and Rachel at her heels, not being as fast as the vampire; their arms were filled with boxes of potions. They knew nothing of healing, so they put the boxes down on the table near the healers of their group and stood back anxiously. The first Rachel may not have been a werewolf, but May and the second Rachel ―whom they called Rach, since they already had a Rachel in the group― were, and she was very good friends with them. One was obviously a werewolf and one was a vampire.

"Where is Aaron?" Harry demanded his voice loud and piercing. The child's scent was strong; he had been here very recently, but with all the werewolf blood tainting the air, it was impossible to pinpoint anything, let alone a little boy's scent.

"I gave him a dreamless sleeping potion, is that alright?" May asked, looking apprehensive; she rather hoped she had done the right thing. "He was panicked and screaming, terrified something fatal had happened to his father; I could barely pry him away so they could help," she prattled on, trying to defend her actions.

"Easy!" Harry said raising his hand, "You did good," he added. She always second-guessed herself, but considering the life she'd had before she came here, he wasn't surprised. "Keep him company; if he wakes up, he'll need to know he's not alone. His father will be sent up as soon as he's on the mend."

"Yes, Sir!" May replied immediately before making her way up the stairs to stay by the cub's side. She was all too relieved to be doing something in here, and not seeing all the injuries and blood.

"She is very… meek," Severus whispered quietly, finding himself surprised. The only one that was slightest bit like her would be the young werewolf, Reg if he remembered correctly, and he knew he wasn't wrong.

"And? That means I don't care or have use for her? I told you before, this is a safe place for them to come," Harry stated seriously. "She may seem meek in day to day life, but her skills are unparalleled in battle." They had taught her well; she was much less startled than she used to be.

Severus arched an eyebrow impressed, if Harry thought she was good, and then she must be ― high praise indeed. Considering the people he already had, Rick, Brecon, and those he had seen moving like expert marksmen, he was surprised May hadn't come with them when they went to Malfoy Manor. Yet he did remember Harry had been looking for volunteers; she didn't seem to have one ounce of self esteem in her. Reality was, she probably wouldn't want to volunteer. It just goes to show you couldn't judge a book by its cover, or a person on their appearance.

"Interesting," Severus admitted. He wondered if Harry thought that highly of him; he had once said his talents were wasted… but what did he honestly think? He didn't think he'd ever have the courage to ask.

"Harry Potter has at long last made an appearance in the magical world," Albus said, a gentle smile on his face as he regarded the Order. They were once again in his office; he really needed to find alternative facilities, he couldn't keep bringing them here. He silently cursed that Grimmauld Place had been closed off to him; why the hell did he have to lose Black's support? He should have used a potion to keep the man's loyalty, something; not only that, but he'd lost his only link to the werewolf community. That was worse than losing Black; it gave him the appearance of loving all creatures of the magical world. People came to him looking for a better life, or people with loved ones who had been bitten, just like Lyall Lupin. The only reason he didn't have a vampire on side was because he knew he wouldn't be able to fool them.

"Really? Where is he? Why isn't he here?" Hermione asked perking up; she was so curious to know what Harry was like. She had written to him all summer after her first year, and never once heard back. Then when they returned to Hogwarts, she'd learnt that Harry was missing. In the months that followed, she'd written dozens of letters, so worried about him, but nothing ever came back; over time she had forgotten about him and moved on. Ron and she had been strong together over their loss of the budding friendship between the three of them. Both had been hoping and praying that somehow Harry was okay, and would be back ― that he wasn't dead.

"Will he be attending this meeting?" Ron enquired, a smile on his face, so relieved that Harry was alive after all. Although he was confused; if Harry was alive, why had he sent back the letters? Had he been kidnapped? Where was he? And most importantly, why hadn't he gotten in touch? He was obviously alright, didn't he remember them or how close they were? Back then he'd had so many plans; he hadn't been able to accomplish any of them. He had thought the mirror showed the truth ― that all that would happen to him. But no Quidditch, no prefect, no Head Boy for him, in fact he'd barely scraped four N.E.W.T.s. Hermione, on the other hand, had been prefect and Head Girl, and best grades all through her seven years.

"Unfortunately I have no idea where he is," Albus admitted, unable to keep his tone as light as he wished.

"Well, he was at the Ministry fighting Voldemort; he's really good, a brilliant dueller. He had to have known someone in the magical world… a wizard maybe?" Bill said reverently. A brilliant dueller; ha, that was a good one. Harry was the best, he'd seen him fight before and it was mesmerising to watch. He was deliberately misleading them. He had hated attending these meetings, but now? Seeing them all beginning to feel the disillusionment, it was liberating; he couldn't wait until he was given permission to show his true colours. Dumbledore thought his wolfish senses were dulled down due to the prolonged use of the published version of the Wolfsbane potion, but he never used that stuff. He could smell the disgust Dumbledore felt… could sense the untruthfulness of him. Dumbledore thought he was clever, that he had connections everywhere; well, he was nothing on Harry or his extensive network. Not that Bill knew everyone, in fact he probably only knew about a quarter of Harry's reach.

"You mean nothing happened to him? He just practiced magic with a tutor?" Hermione cried indignantly, "I wrote him letters! Hundreds of letters; why didn't he reply? He could have answered! We thought he was dead!" She was furious, how could Harry do that? They'd been best friends, and he just cut her off like she didn't matter?

"Now, now, we don't know that for sure," Dumbledore said hastily. He didn't want the Order hating Harry after all, they needed him, vampire or not. He also had to make sure that everyone thought they were on the best of terms; as soon as Voldemort was dealt with, the boy would be killed by his hand. He couldn't have even one iota of suspicion on him.

"True, we mustn't judge him," Minerva inputted, "We do not know what happened to the poor boy; perhaps he was just scared to reach out after Voldemort attacked him, and after his turning." Harry was one of her favourite students. He wouldn't abandon the magical world; his parents had attended Hogwarts, and he wouldn't have left unless he felt as though he had no choice. Although, James would be so saddened to hear about his son's afflictions.

"Maybe," Hermione muttered, still stinging from the fact that Harry seemed in perfect health and knew magic… and to be called a brilliant dueller by Bill Weasley of all people? She was considered the best at magic and duelling, as well as being one of the youngest Order members that had ever been initiated. "He wasn't scared; in fact he was the one who initiated it!"

"What do you mean by that?" Moody asked, narrowing his eyes on the witch.

"Nothing," Hermione shrugged, brushing it off as unimportant.

"Harry faced Voldemort, he went on when we were hurt," Ron said proudly, happy and eager to talk about good times. Hogwarts had been so dull without any adventures; his first year had been by far the best year of his life. "We spoke about how Harry felt he had been led down there, to face him… you know, to face his parents' killer."

"Just who was that?" Charlie asked. His brother had spoken about Harry a lot over the years but hadn't mentioned this.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Ron revealed smugly, "He gave him his cloak, and Hagrid picked him up on the day he took the stone out of the vault." Ron was so smug, in fact, that he was missing the fact that the twinkle was leaving Dumbledore's eyes and momentarily a pissed off look appeared before disappearing. He didn't even blink when Hermione kicked him under the table; he just revelled in the attention being on him for a change.

"His cloak?" Molly whispered in horror, "You gave an eleven-year-old an invisibility cloak?" She was quite frankly aghast. She couldn't believe how irresponsible Dumbledore had been; he could have been hurt under it! Gotten himself lost! Who gave a school child a cloak that would enable him to break every school rule Hogwarts had to offer? "How could you lead an eleven-year-old to face that madman?"

"I agree with Molly, what on earth were you thinking?" Arthur asked, staring at the Headmaster shocked.

"James made me promise to give it to his son, I was not about to deny him his last wish," Albus stated, looking weary, "I had my reservations, but I had to do it; I am a man of my word. Harry was mature, I was sure he would use it well." Oh, he could kill Ronald Weasley for this, the idiotic boy.

"Then you could have given it to him later, perhaps when he was a little older!" Molly protested.

"I should have, yes," Albus sighed, "I have many regrets,"

Bill bit his tongue viciously, so much so that he could taste blood. Grimacing slightly he calmed the rage in his heart. How he hated that everyone got so suckered into the old man's lies; he couldn't last much longer. He needed to speak to Harry, he had to get out of this hell hole… but Harry was relying on him; he couldn't leave ― not yet, damn it.

"So, Harry?" Tonks questioned, drumming her fingers on the table in boredom; she had no time for the silly squabbles they constantly had. She had enough drama in the Auror department, without adding to it here. She just wanted to sleep right now ― sleep sounded good. "Why don't you write him a letter and explain everything? Instead of talking here uselessly about the past, of all things?"

Moody smirked; he had taught her well, she was definitely one of his best protégées. It had been very well put; he was bored of the meeting as well. It didn't help that every Auror here had pulled a double shift, after the attack on the Ministry. Fudge had demanded it, telling them to make sure their presence was felt in the magical world, to reassure their people that they were doing their job.

"Why don't we do it?" Hermione suggested, "It's been years since we spoke, maybe he will reply?"

"Very well," Albus said, realizing he was best to wrap things up, "I'll give it a week before we need to strike."

"Strike? You can't just go and kidnap someone off the street!" Bill gaped, his brothers, save for Ron, nodded sagely.

"I meant merely set a formal meeting," Albus said, looking shocked for effect only. He didn't like how badly his own Order was looking down on him. He never did his own dirty work. He wasn't about to kidnap someone himself; no, if it came to that, someone else would do the deed.

"Oh, sorry, Headmaster," Bill said sheepishly, rubbing at his eyes tiredly, feigning exhaustion without saying anything.

"It's no problem," Albus said, brushing it off even as anger brewed in him. "We are all tired; the war is taking its toll, why don't we reconvene at another date?"

"Yes," Everyone agreed almost immediately.

"How are things looking, Darius?" Harry demanded, after watching him silently work for over an hour. Most of the others had left to give him room to work; only a few vampires remained to help get the werewolves up stairs once they were treated to the best of the healer's capability.

"You're right, Greyback is the worst; he took at least ten different curses. I've removed all but one; the last is doing the most damage, but I can't figure out the counter-curse," Darius admitted, looking irritated as he stood up, stretching out with a grimace on his face. His back ached something fierce. "The others are all healing nicely, but they'll need a few potions during the night."

"What's the curse?" Harry demanded.

"Some variation of a cutting curse? But it didn't seem to have the full effect, it was as if it only grazed him slightly… the spell would have killed him otherwise!" Darius concluded, looking perplexed.

"Let me see the results," Severus hissed, his fangs bared in fury.

Darius stared at Severus blankly. He didn't like the way he was being spoken to. It was different with Harry, he was his leader; Harry had helped him when he needed it and he freely offered his services, and respect with it. Glancing at his leader, he wanted to grumble in irritation when Harry nodded grimly. He also observed Rick smirking out of the corner of his eye; he would need to talk to him, and soon.

"Here," Darius said handing over the results of his diagnostic scan without another word. He had a funny feeling that he would be seeing more of Severus and having to do as he asked.

"Bellatrix," Severus snarled, moving towards the werewolf and yanking his ripped top off to see the results for himself; it was unmistakable.

"Bellatrix? You mean Lestrange? Isn't she dead?" Rick enquired moving forward, "Is that her signature spell?"

"No," Severus admitted, "It's mine."

"Interesting," Harry muttered, "When did you create this?" he asked, gazing at the results as well. Yes, Greyback definitely would have died, or should have.

"When I was sixteen years old; she is the only one that used it," Severus admitted scowling, but the look on Harry's face made the scowl melt off his face. That look, he wasn't sure what it was exactly but it made him feel very uncomfortable, hot under the collar, like he was about to be ambushed. Butterflies were once again dancing in his stomach; Merlin, he hated being a teenager again, and these emotions it made him feel like a twelve-year-old. To a man like him it was almost intolerable, he had to control this. He was thankfully brought out of his musings by Darius asking him a question rather urgently.

"If you created it… did you create a counter?" Darius asked, sounding slightly doubtful; most people didn't have counters to their own spells.

"Of course I did," Severus scoffed, as if he would be stupid enough to create such a vicious spell without having a counter-curse. Flicking his wand out, he began to chant; the longer he kept at it, the more the cuts began to miraculously heal before their eyes.

"Have you created others?" Rick asked curiously, eyes gleaming in a way that the light side would definitely be wary about.

"Yes," Severus replied immediately.

Their conversation was cut short when someone Apparated directly into the warehouse, but nobody twitched… since this was probably one of the most secure areas one could have.

"What's going on?" Bill gaped at the blood and mess that surrounded the usually impeccable building. "What happened?" He'd only been gone an hour or so, what had he missed?

"Best guess is that the Death Eaters attacked Greyback's pack, but we won't know more until they wake up," Rick informed the werewolf.

"Which might be a while; they've all been gravely injured." Darius added.

"Get some sleep; get Rachel to cover for you," Harry demanded, "You need some sleep, and they've had all potions they can get for at least six hours."

"Yes, Sir," Darius agreed, sighing in relief. Rachel would know what to do; she had shadowed him working more than a dozen times.

"Go; if anything happens, inform me immediately," Harry stated firmly, not even waiting for a reply before he Apparated from the premises.

Severus followed him after giving a nod to the people in the room.

Thanks to Jordre and Jake for editing this chapter :)