The Leader

Chapter 32

"Who else would use your spell?" Harry enquired from where he sat on the chair that was positioned across from the sofa. He had changed nothing in Potter Manor; everything here had been already in place, with the obvious exception of his bedroom. Everything in there had been bought by him, especially all the books that lined his room. He was calmly sipping from a goblet of blood; Severus had already greedily consumed his the second it had been placed in front of him. He would learn it was better to relish it than drink it too quickly, probably not for a while yet but soon enough. Severus was eyeing Harry's, but at least he had the sense not to even think about going for it.

"I have no idea," Severus frowned in contemplation; nobody had had the guts to use it before now. Perhaps they were using it under the belief that he was dead, and that would mean that they hadn't been at the battle. No doubt they'd been on a mission for days, if not weeks, hunting down Greyback and his pack to kill them, no doubt as they had been commanded. "Hopefully Greyback can tell us." His eyes narrowed at the thought of anyone using his spell. Nothing infuriated him more than someone having the audacity of using his own spells, especially against him. It was what had made him so furious that day― Potter had used his own spell against him, added to the humiliation that there had been no hope of being able to curb his tongue.

"Perhaps," Harry stated. There had been no news ― which was good news. They would have come to tell him if Greyback had gotten worse, or if he woke up; his men knew him well enough that they didn't need to be told anymore. Seeing that the conversation had run dry, he flipped over to the next page and began to read the book that was lying in his lap. It was very brittle, and had been bound together by what appeared to be a novice at the art. It was a shame he didn't dare to rebind it, but it was just too fragile to risk it. It was one of the oldest books he'd actually been able to obtain, although it could barely be called a book; it was as if someone had converted it from a large scroll to a half-heartedly bound book.

"Why don't you hunt?" Severus enquired. He was starving, and longed for real blood, blood that was pumping through someone's veins instead of the preserved stuff Harry had on hand. There was just something very unsatisfying about it, and he didn't know what; he'd tried to think about it but he had come up blank.

Harry looked up smirking. "Missing the thrill of the hunt?" he asked knowingly. He did as well, but he had gotten used to the bagged blood. Kai hadn't wanted to risk taking him to hunt. He'd kept him hidden; Harry had always assumed it was to do with him being 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', but it wasn't until the attack on Kai that he truly realized why. The underworld was at war, constantly fighting for feeding grounds and battling each other for the sake of proving they were the best.

Closing his eyes, Severus replayed what had happened. So that's what it was? The thrill of hunting down his prey and drinking the blood straight from its source? Interesting, he wouldn't have thought that had anything to do with it, although he did know he wanted to do it again, and badly. "Will it always remain this way?" Severus frowned at the thought; he hoped that in time he wouldn't feel the thrall for it.

"Oh yes, always. It's very addictive, the running, watching them, the knowledge that they couldn't see you, that they wouldn't be able to stop you. Then incapacitating them, knowing that in their veins lays the sustenance you need to survive. Of course nothing, not even the hunt, compares to the feed, it's like the world's most potent drug," Harry said seductively, watching Severus' eyes dilate, desperate need crossing his features. He shouldn't be teasing him, it wasn't fair; he was a newborn, had only been turned recently, but the hold he had over himself was mesmerising to see. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is for even an older vampire to hold themselves in place when talking like that? You should have lost all composure; the need to hunt should have been overwhelming." Harry's voice didn't convey how impressed he was, but then again, it rarely did.

"It is," Severus growled out furiously, it was taking him all his composure to stay seated.

"Shall we see how you do on your second hunt?" Harry suggested, instead of demanding, giving Severus the option, but he knew what his choice would be.

Severus stood up immediately― he was starving; how Harry survived on that one goblet was a mystery.

"Just remember, you can't go on a hunt every day; you must learn how to control yourself and your blood thirst," Harry cautioned, as he always did with the vampires that joined him. "Lead the way, I want to see how much control you have and how your senses are." They couldn't hang around for long; he needed to ensure that the werewolves were fine. "We head straight back to the warehouse as soon as we are finished," he added before standing himself, gesturing for Severus to lead the way.

Nodding grimly in understanding, Severus knew without being told what could happen to weak-willed vampires: they went rogue, almost rabid, and they needed to be killed to keep the magical world safe from discovery. He certainly didn't want to be one of them, but his control had always been iron clad so perhaps that was why he was able to cope as a vampire. At least he liked to think so; all indications, from everything he'd read about vampires, certainly made it seem so.

Severus ran, his exuberance hidden but sensed by Harry as they headed out from the manor, Severus taking the same direction they'd gone in the last time. He could still smell the trail; it was faded, but very much, still there for them to sense. Only their own kind would pick up that trail; not even a dog would be able to follow the scent now ― too much time had passed. It wouldn't last forever; blood trails lasted longer though. He was going so fast that even the landscape was a blur to him. He would never get used to this; he was already feeling freer than he had just half an hour ago.

The familiar alley was before them, but Severus continued on past it until he could smell humans… but not too many of them. Three or four; inhaling sharply, he realized it was indeed three. Slowing down, he moved quietly, crouching down so he couldn't be seen and observing them through the trees. They were all old, or rather middle aged; he would never harm a child, not to even stun and feed from them. He didn't dare even contemplate the thought of risking it. Children didn't have as much blood to lose as adults did; the thought of accidentally killing them was too much to bear, quite frankly. Of course, he realized he might not have the ability to stop himself, but if he felt strongly enough about it ― he prayed that it would be so.

"Look at my shoes!" one of the females complained as she stared down at her shoes, "I need some water,"

"You aren't using mine," the other two, a male and a female, exclaimed in unison. The female that had just spoken did so again, "There's a stream nearby, use that; we cannot afford to waste water."

Severus and Harry watched the first female leave, grumbling under her breath about why she'd come in the first place. The stream was ten minutes away at least, with at a human's walking pace, Severus thought as he sniffed the air. It would give them enough time to feed and be on their way. Removing his wand he pointed his wand at the male, while Harry pointed at the female, doing it together so not to cause any alarm or call for aid. Together the red gouts of magic hit their targets with a barely whispered "Stupefy" from both vampires.

"Go ahead," Harry stated keeping an eye or rather ear out for the other female, who was still making her way towards the stream.

"You aren't feeding?" Severus enquired, pausing briefly. The urge to just sate his own thirst was strong but he resisted.

"No, I mastered my thirst a long time ago. Go ahead," Harry replied firmly. "Perhaps I'll join you next time."

Severus needed no further encouragement; he made his way down the small hill keeping him from his food, making sure not to leave any footprints. Inhaling sharply, his venom began to pool in his mouth, but he swallowed it back ― he didn't wish to turn anyone, after all. Lowering himself over the Muggle, inhaling sharply, unable to stand the wait, he bit into his back and a moan of pure delight burst through his lips, one he just couldn't even think of containing. He continued to drink his fill until he felt urgent tugging coming from the Muggle under him and he belated remembered Harry's words from the first hunt.

'You'll soon begin to feel a tug, when it's more difficult for blood to get to you; you must stop then, otherwise they will not survive.'

Immediately Severus stopped; withdrawing his fangs he quickly healed the wound, feeling pleasantly full and irritatingly turned on. Closing his eyes he thought on Dumbledore and all he'd done; that quite quickly took care of his problem, although it had banished half of his good mood. Breathing easier, he decided he would have to make do. Under no circumstances was he going to ask Harry when this humiliating reaction stopped. Oh, he'd already spoken about it… the first few feeds, he'd said. Laying the Muggle back down, he expanded his senses, listening to his surroundings and hearing the woman cleaning her shoes in the stream. When it stopped he realized she would be on her way back soon. With that he made sure nothing gave away the fact he'd been there before using his speed and running back towards Harry and trees.

"Better?" Harry said wryly, having a problem of his own; seeing his mate feeding had turned him on badly, but he was very good at controlling himself.

"Indeed," Severus replied, finally sated.

"Then let us go," Harry said, wrapping his magic around both of them without even touching Severus and Apparating them to their next destination.

Severus looked around wildly; Harry hadn't even touched him! How the hell had he been able to Apparate him like that? It was impossible! Side-along Apparation required contact. The smell of werewolf was still overwhelming, but not as bad as it had been; the smell of bleach was also present, giving away that they'd tried to clean up the area. Why they hadn't used magic he didn't know, it was something he intended on asking. "Why haven't they just used magic?"

"For?" Harry queried as he moved up the stairs to where the werewolves lay still unconscious.

"To get rid of the smell," Severus explained himself further.

"It would work if you were human. They've already used it, and this is as good as it gets. Sooner or later the disinfectant and blood scents will slowly disperse," Harry replied curtly. "It's why all the windows are open, also why nobody is in the warehouse. You'll see they are in the back, if you look over there," he added without a single glance over himself.

"How are they?" Harry demanded, staring at Darius expectantly.

"They're recovering, Greyback just barely; we managed to get the cub to join the others outside,"

"Any progress from last night?" Harry frowned as he approached the werewolf, sensing the sickness and rattling breath, the heartbeat was slow but determined. Greyback had something to live for, something to protect… no, not something, someone. A little boy, who had been through enough already. That little boy was the reason he'd offered Greyback protection, he didn't normally offer it twice or give another opportunity to take it. The idiot had failed his pack; he wasn't strong enough to be a leader. He had done the wrong thing when he left. Nobody should be too proud of accepting protection, especially if it protected your pack, and Greyback should have thought about that before running. Still, he had gotten them to safety, took the curses meant for his pack and that was probably the only redeeming thing about this entire fiasco.

Darius shook his head, his peppered hair moving wildly as he did so. It looked as if he'd only had a few hours sleep… going against what Harry had explicitly demanded. Perhaps one of them had gotten worse and Rachel had not been able to tend to him.

"Rachel, get Brecon," Harry shouted, knowing she would hear him; Brecon, being a wizard, wouldn't be able to hear him from here like most werewolves or vampires.

"Brecon?" Severus asked cautiously, "Is he a healer as well?"

"No," Harry denied swiftly, not in a sharing mood. "How much sleep did you get?" Harry narrowed his eyes on a guilty looking Darius.

"One hour at most; their injuries are quite severe, Sir; I feared that they might deteriorate rapidly, and I was right, I've had to reapply spells to stop themselves choking on their own blood," Darius explained respectfully. He had been a healer until his condition became known, preventing him from being employed; here he was able to do as he sorely wanted: help people. He owed his leader everything, and took his job very seriously.

"Are any of them close to wakening up any time soon?" Harry enquired.

"I'm unfamiliar with their names, but the black-haired werewolf to your left received the least number of injuries, I think he was protecting the young one as the others fought; he may wake up some time tonight, Sir," Darius revealed.

"I see," Harry replied thoughtfully, "Get some rest; that is an order. Allow someone else to take over for a few hours."

"Yes, Sir," Darius reluctantly agreed.

"Good," Harry sighed, turning around and leaving the room. Moving down the stairs, his hearing picked up Brecon coming through the door.

"You wished to see me, Sir?" Brecon enquired, staring up at his Leader who was currently moving down the stairs with his shadow following as was becoming the norm these days.

"Has the Ministry been after Greyback?" Harry demanded.

"Yes; they have been for many years. After he bit Remus Lupin he was considered extremely dangerous; they believed he was biting and turning on purpose," Brecon told him, but he already knew all this. "As far as I know they've never even spotted him, but I can check with the Ministry if you like?"

"No, leave it for a few days. They're on edge at the moment due to the attack; I doubt they will be as loose lipped as usual." Harry informed him.

"I know, they're all talking about how amazing the duel was, and wondering when you were turned and why," Brecon revealed, smirking in irony. "So far nothing negative has been said; I don't think they quite dare to, especially with the rumours of you being the only one that can defeat Voldemort."

"Of course not," Harry sneered, Brecon took no offence knowing it wasn't aimed at him but the duplicity of the Ministry of Magic. "At least not until their little problem is rectified."

Brecon nodded in agreement of the truth; they would find a reason to disparage his name as soon as they didn't need him anymore. They were hypocrites the lot of them, claiming Dark magic to be outlawed but using it if they needed to… when it comes to family, there are no rules. While he understood that, he just didn't like the duplicity, arresting people for using magic they deemed illegal when they would use it themselves. Although there were people who refused to use dark magic, even if it meant watching their loved ones die.

"Bill was here last night, why? Did he have something to say?" Harry enquired further, seeing as he wouldn't get anything regarding Greyback that he didn't already know. He was just curious whether it had been the Ministry that found the werewolf but Death Eaters who got there first, or if Death Eaters had just been tracking him. Voldemort's main Death Eaters had been with him during the attack on the Ministry, and it seemed stupid to send less than the best after Greyback ― he was one of the most powerful werewolves. Even when he had been on the other side Harry had had a grudging respect for him, but it was overshadowed in seething fury that one of his own had been hurt in a place he had ensured was secure.

"Yes, actually, he was complaining about an Order meeting and how he didn't want to put up with the 'foul loathsome lying rat' any longer… and yes, that's a direct quote," Brecon said smugly; he'd gotten a great deal of amusement from Bill's whining.

"Well, he should be happy to know it won't be for much longer, does he have news?" Harry asked little more sternly. He didn't want to hear about his complaints. Bill had agreed to do it; if he hadn't wanted to, then he should have said so, it was as simple as that.

"He's here," Brecon pointed out, "He will be the best one to ask, you know we don't tend to give information out before you hear it." Or even afterwards… not very often, at least.

Harry nodded his understanding, "Thank you, Brecon,"

"Oh, and the information you wanted on everyone in the Order… I don't have a full list of who is in it, but I was able to get information on everyone that appeared during the battle," Brecon quickly said, removing a large bundle wrapped in brown paper, "I was going to call Dobby to collect it, but everyone was sidetracked by what happened."

"Anything else?" Harry asked, taking the large bundle.

"They're running low on five potions: pepper-up, blood replenishers, sleeping and calming draughts, as well as the internal injury potion you created― you really should name it," Brecon added, wondering if he'd forgotten any.

"One day," Harry confirmed, "I'll have Dobby send them over as soon as I've made more." He was behind with his brewing as of late; thankfully he had someone just as good as him to help out.

"I have four of the required potions already brewed, as soon as we head back I'll send them over?" Severus questioned, glancing briefly at Harry wondering if he'd overstepped any bounds ― he would have been on the floor under the Cruciatus Curse by this point if it had been Voldemort. Yet the vampire just nodded before stepping away, leaving the warehouse.

"Does he do that often?" Severus asked quietly.

"What?" Brecon enquired as he moved to follow.

"Just up and leave?" Severus clarified.

"Yes, he isn't one for wasting time. He doesn't usually have a lot of it on his hands, but things have settled down now that most of the covens are under control," Brecon confirmed, opening the door and letting Severus pass through before leaving himself.

Severus had to concede the point; to have gotten this far, there would have been time for nothing other than laying down the law.

Edited by Jake and Jordre thank you guys!