Lupine Menace p72
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Harry tried to be patient with the healers. After all, he was sure it wasn't often they had patients resurrect from the dead, but as they reached the double digits in diagnostic testing, he called a halt.
"Auror Potter, we still don't know what type of abnormal impact the lycanthropy could have had to your system, several of our readings regarding normal bodily functions are strange— scent, hearing – not to mention the severely conflicting results regarding your eyesight."
"Let me tell you what I do know. I do know I'm walking, breathing and I feel fine. Maybe I need my eyes checked again but you don't look like my optometrist." Harry advised them, diplomatically leaving out his inclination to snack on Hermione.
"Leaving now without completing the testing is against medical-"
"Got it." Harry tapped at his temple. "I appreciate the concern, but this hospital gown is drafty on my arse and I've got things to handle."
After some more babbling that he ignored, he managed to shove them out of his hospital room so he could finally get dressed in clothes provided by the hospital, a pair of joggers and t-shirt that he adjusted hastily to his size.
Harry hated hospitals, and now with his apparently amped up sense of smell, he hated them even more. As he dressed he ignored the vicious scarring uncovering his body. Scarring that looked weeks old even though he had just received it last night.
He really hadn't had a moment to consider what that strange —dream— delusion— incident had been last night. Had he really somehow gone to the forest a second time after apparating to St. Mungos? As he pulled down his shirt he paused looking down at the jagged scars. His hand touched one particularly large mark– as if a gigantic tooth had sunk into his belly.
Just as he finished dressing Robards walked in, his face thunderous. Harry held back a sigh, of course. Robards settled himself into the chair in the corner and gave him a hard look. "Tell me everything that happened."
Harry relayed everything he knew to be factually true - leaving out the delusion of eaten by cottage sized wolves.
Robards was quiet for a moment. "I spoke to Greer's wife."
Harry swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "How is Emma?"
"Devastated. I promised her I'd find the people responsible and bring them to justice."
"Of Course- I might need a few days–"
"We're putting you on leave for the next three months."
Harry stared at him and Robards shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "You're going to have to get used to your new existence, and it's going to be difficult for me to find you another partner with you being …"
Something flexed inside Harry, and he swore he could hear the rapid tattoo of Robards heartbeat, smell the sweat as he tried to uncomfortably explain how Harry was now a much more difficult Auror to employ.
"Are you going to fire me then?"
"Of course not! We're just going to take some time to make sure everything is done right. I already put together a team to conduct searches of the dark forest to see if they can identify the scene and gather any clues."
Liar.
The other inside him whispered. It was hard for Harry to keep track of what Robards was saying
"Fine." He said abruptly, cutting Robards off, and the man stood up walking forward to shake his hand.
"I'll keep you in the loop." He didn't meet Harry's eyes again as he strode out of the room, and Harry knew that he was lying.
The sense of something other inside him was growing, like a limb that was stretching out. It fed him information, telling him when people were passing in the hallway beyond. That Hermione was still somewhere close, and that Lavender was still near her.
Harry had known several werewolves and knew that there were certain similarities that held true from their animal counterparts. He had seen the way Bill deferred to Remus in group settings, often looking at Remus before making any decisions or deciding how to vote. But he hadn't known the pull of the werewolf instinct was that intense.. He had the feeling if he hadn't wanted Lavender to leave - regardless of Ron or her own wishes—she would have stayed until he gave her permission.
He had never had intrusive conversations about their lycanthropy with Remus, Bill or Lavender – it hadn't seemed appropriate or his place to do so. So he didn't know if this intensity of behavior was something that was within the bounds of a normal werewolf or if there was something different about the way he was experiencing it. Fate was always a bitch when it came to him.
Harry didn't want to start that kind of conversation with Ron's wife or Remus, the closest full werewolves he knew. For him, Hermione would likely be the best bet to talk to too, considering her expertise and advocacy for magical creatures. He would just have to work on not getting randomly aroused by her very presence.
By her smell. Mmm. So tasty.
Harry looked down and saw the very obvious tent in his gray joggers. Apparently being a werewolf meant you lost control of your dick. Fuck. He adjusted himself and closed his eyes trying to regain control so he wouldn't be wandering corridors looking like a pervert.
It wasn't easy. He'd been on a long dry spell before this unfortunate incident, the allure of dating and shagging random witches wearing off. He and Hermione weren't like that, though. They were friends, the very best kind of friends. The kind you could tell anything and count on for anything. Sure, he thought she was hot and more than once wanted to explore what they could be together, but he would never risk their friendship for a romantic relationship that might go down in flames.
Friends. Friends. Friends. He repeated to himself.
Mate. A voice inside him contradicted.
Shut the fuck up.
Great. Now he was arguing with himself. Harry looked up and caught sight of a mirror through the small door that led to a bathroom. His green eyes were practically glowing and …
He opened his mouth wider. Yep. He had teeth like a fucking shifted werewolf. He ran his tongue along his incisor, and the image of him sinking them into Hermione's shoulder and marking her popped into his head with vivid clarity.
He closed his eyes again, concentrating on using his training with occlumency to push away the intrusive thoughts. It was more difficult than it had been in a long time to occlude and reach that cold calm state of being when every emotion was walled off.
When he opened his eyes some minutes later, his face was normal, and he felt in control of himself. The strange sharpness of his senses was still there, but without the emotional impetus to act on the feelings.
He left the small hospital room, determined to get some answers. He followed his nose down to the area where he knew Hermione was waiting. Hermione jumped up from the waiting room chair as soon as she saw him, walking towards him.
"Merlin, no wonder the healer was confused." Her eyes were wide as she took in all the visible marks all over his body. Her hand reached out to touch his face, and he yanked his head back.
He saw the brief hurt before she hid it. Shit . "Did Ron and Lavender leave?"
"Yes, they were going to stay, but there was something bothering Lavender. You know how she still gets in crowds sometimes, so Ron took her home. I'm not sure what time he's coming back. Are they releasing you?"
What was less risky? His flat or hers? Hers, probably. If something happened, Hermione wouldn't leave him no matter what he said. He needed to be able to leave and have a place to hole up in case he lost control of the nagging impulse to bite her that kept trying to break through his occlumency shields.
"Yes, could we maybe go to your place? I need to talk to you." He kept his voice purposefully low. Who knows who had big ears, and he wasn't yet ready for this to be making the rounds.
"Of course." She led him along the corridor towards the apparition point, giving him the space he needed, but Harry knew she would only give him so much room before she put her foot down demanding explanations from him.
That moment came as soon as they apparated into her living room, she went plopped down on the couch and stared at him. "Tell me everything."
He started at the beginning and ran through everything, waking up the second time, being unable to stop himself from going to the gigantic wolves, his second death. She winced even though kept the gory details and pain to himself.
"They said you forced them into those bodies?"
Harry paused, thinking over his memory. "Yeah, I didn't really consider it when they said it, but that's what they said."
She made a small humming sound as he continued with the story, but she interrupted him almost immediately again. "Myrddin? That's—"
"Merlin, yeah."
When he finally finished everything, he included the fact that he was staying in control with occlumency. They were both quiet.
She cleared her throat. "You know you've always been fit, but—uh–"
Satisfaction flowed through him in a heady rush. His mate wanted him too. Harry cleared his throat, working on his shielding as his emotions seemed to ramp up. "Yeah, I noticed when I stumbled over my fucking feet trying to stand, I've got muscles on my muscles."
She gave him a narrow-eyed look, and he grinned at her. He didn't know why it tickled him so much to have her get after him for cussing.
"What did the healers say when they released you?"
He cleared his throat, his eyes going up to the ceiling. "Well I kind of left against their medical advice."
"What!"
"Hermione- they were like— like– remember Hagatha? From when you worked in RCMC?"
After graduating Hogwarts, Hermione had started with the ministry in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The bane of her existence had been a witch named Hagatha Hargreaves who had required reports in triplicate and tried to micromanage Hermione. Now whenever anyone was particularly annoying they became a Hagatha–no matter their gender.
"Your healers were not Hagathas for trying to make sure you were okay."
"Their little green robes were practically turning puce; they were so much like Hagatha. Whoever decided the color schemes for the Ministry or for Healers must have been related to Hagatha. At least the Auror department doesn't have stupid colors."
She smirked at him, rolling her eyes. "I bet that mattered to you as a sixteen year old picking out your dream job."
He grinned at her, feeling prickles of gratification at distracting her seeing her amused. "All factors were considered."
There was something in her eyes as she asked her next question that made him perk up a bit. "And so… these instincts you have now… they think I'm your mate? And you want to bite me?"
I know you're my mate.
He ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it, keeping the words unspoken. "Yeah."
"You've never heard of Mikhail Morozov or Elara?"
"No."
"Hmm." Hermione stood up, her wand in her hand, and his hands fisted at his side to resist the impulse to touch her. "Can you stop the occlumency?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea."
"I've got my wand, just in case."
"Hermione—"
"We need to know what could happen if your control slips. Better to do it when we're ready so we know what to expect."
She was right. What if he slipped up? They were barely two feet apart, and he let the wall he had built with his occlumency fall.
His eyes fell on Hermione's unmarked neck. Why the hell hadn't he locked that up yet? Anyone could see her and take her, thinking she wasn't his. A growl made his chest vibrate. "Mate."
Her eyes were wide, and she was saying something he couldn't quite understand. He should get closer to her. Hermione raised her wand, magic splashing against his chest. It felt like a slightly sticky web that he shrugged off.
He tilted his neck to the side, popping the bone with a crack. "Do you want to run?"
She stared at him with wide brown eyes, and her voice seemed far away. "What?"
He came closer to her, resisting the urge to bury his mouth in the curve of her shoulder. He whispered in her ear. "If you run, I can catch you." It would be so much more fun to play first.
She stepped back from him and he blinked, his vision blurry, and plucked off his glasses. That was better. He tossed them aside, watching her move, waiting for her to turn and run.
Hermione stood still with her hands out, like she was a bunny and not a wolf, how annoying. He growled at her and she jumped and then scowled at him, shaking her finger in his face. He snapped his teeth at her, and her eyes widened, looking faintly horrified, the acrid smell of fear disconcerting him for a moment. What?
Why would she— his gaze landed on the mirror to the left of her his fucking mouth looked like a monsters'. He stumbled back almost tripping over a low coffee table, his back hitting the fireplace, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to shove down the wolf again.
He was trembling when he finished, it felt like he was splitting his fucking soul in two. "Fucking hell." He whispered.
"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively.
He looked over at her, her shape blurry again and he held out his hand with a vague tremor. "Accio glasses."
They flew into his hand and he put them on looking at her. "I don't think we should try that again."
"But Harry–"
"Unless you want my teeth marks on your shoulder." She stopped staring at him. "This thing inside me– it's not regular lycanthropy. If I bite you– I know —I know that you're going to become like me."
"How do you know though?"
His lips twisted. "Fucking instinct."
"Wolfsbane is supposed to only be for the full moon, but it shouldn't be harmful to drink it outside of that timeframe– we can try it to see if it will help suppress the instinct? And in the meantime… um." She paused delicately. "Did they fire you from MLE?"
Harry moved a little bit further away from her, his hand coming up to rub at his head. The effort it took to keep it contained was giving him a headache. "No, even with lycanthropy I'm still the 'boy who fucking lived' they'll probably just stonewall me from any promotions and give me all the shit assignments from now on until I read the writing on the wall– you know how they are."
Her lips tightened. She had been fighting for years to prevent bias against those with lycanthropy but although she had made major strides towards encoding prohibitions against bias – it was too deeply ingrained and complaints usually ended up having no effect.
"Well until they do, you should get the research arm of MLE on finding Mikhail Morozov and also provide you with a list of witches with the name Elara– I've never met anyone with that name – if it's uncommon enough maybe it could be a list we run down?"
Harry nodded, not looking at her, he needed to get away from her. "Yeah, okay."
"I'll get the potions for you in the meantime and speak to one of the master potioneers and see if there are different levels of intensity for the wolfsbane and potential side effects okay?"
"Yeah fine. I got to go." With that he apparated out, to Grimmauld immediately locking down his wards and closing his floo. "Kreacher."
With a pop the house elf was in front of him. "Master?"
"I want a rare steak and I don't want any visitors– anyone comes run them off— nicely."
Kreacher made a grumpy face. "Rare steak. Get rid of nosey witches and wizards nicely ."
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Trial One
Harry stood inside a cage watching as Hermione made adjustments to the warding and locks, being near her made his headaches worse and they had taken to communicating by owl or mobile while each handling research– him for the two names he was given and Hermione for a method of control.
"So when I cast a knockback and immobilize you literally shrugged them off."
"I kind of remember something feeling sticky?" Harry breathed through his mouth, trying not to inhale Hermione's scent as she walked around the cage in the center of the room.
"So I talked with several werewolves I know and I've gotten this cage made to their specifications – to handle even an alpha wolf."
"Yeah but remember my porno-"
"Harry!"
"-title- Sorry. Uh, remember my awesome new designation?"
"Per my sources an alpha wolf merely has stronger instincts and other wolves usually feel the need to follow their lead. They're also able to pull minor changes – like Fenrir did even when the moon wasn't out. It explains why your teeth transformed that first day."
"I don't like being categorized with Fenrir, since I'm an alpha alpha whatever I contend that I am in a wholly new category." He was joking —somewhat– it did irritate him to hear her equate him with another wolf– especially a disgusting child attacker like Fenrir. No wolf was his equal.
"Yes, Harry." She soothed. "I'm just saying that there are some parallels."
His lip curled and a growl emerged involuntarily. Fuck. His hands grasped tightly onto the bars as he worked on his occlumency. He hadn't had so many problems with it since he had been under Snape's shitty tutelage.
"So just in case…"
"Just in case, I have a port key that's going to drop you into the black lake at Hogwarts, school is out and I already talked to Minerva about it."
He groaned. "You told Minnie I'm a werewolf!?"
"Of Course not. I told her I needed to run some experiments with portkeys and if I could please have the area vacant."
He let out a sigh of relief.
"Okay. So I've got a draught of peace and a regular dose of wolfsbane." She held up the vials and he could feel the snarl wanting to work up through his throat.
Poison.
"What?" Hermione looked at him confused and he realized he said it out loud.
Harry coughed, clearing his throat. "Nothing, give it here."
He held out his hand and she gave him the draught of peace first. He downed it, feeling it rush through him deadening his senses and dropped the vial on accident, the enchanted glass clanging harshly but not breaking.
"Are you okay?"
Something inside him was twisting and enraged, and he swallowed several times, sweat breaking out as he tried to occlude. He held out his hand for the other potion and she placed it in his hand. The wolfsbane smoked slightly and his hand trembled with the effort it took to bring it to his mouth.
POISON!
The thing inside him roared as he tipped it up choking trying to swallow the bitter brew, his throat convulsed and he clutched it, hearing Hermione's loud voice. Her hands reached through the bars trying to pull at his hands and he caught her yanking her against the bars.
"Poison!" He growled at her and she looked at him with frightened eyes, his nose twitched as an iron scent of blood drifted up and he looked down. His hands were tipped with freakish claws, digging into her arms as he held her, and a rivulet of blood streaked down.
She should be scared, trying to poison her mate. He pulled her harder until her entire body was flush against the bars. She just didn't know who she belonged to was all, he'd fix that. He leaned down his tongue coming out to lick at the wound he had made on her arm, his eyes fixed on hers.
She was saying things to him he was having trouble understanding, but he understood the last.
"I'm sorry, Harry." Her hand twisted and something touched him, grabbing him, yanking him away from her even though he tried to hang on.
Harry fell from twenty feet up plunging into the dark lake, the cold water shocking him back to coherence. He kicked his feet surging up to the surface and breaking the water line with a splash.
"Fuck!" He hit the water hard making it splash around him.
He felt something brush against his foot and looked down to see a giant tentacle. "Don't fuck with me right now or you'll be regrowing some tentacles."