Chapter 12: Confringo

The first thing that Harry became aware of was a large, callused hand resting on his forehead. The coolness of the long fingers felt nice against his hot, sweaty skin, so he didn't immediately try to push it away. He hated being touched by anyone since close contact with other people usually meant pain and punishment. But at this moment, he felt too tired and weak to try and move away from the person sitting next to him.

The next thing that Harry became aware of was the lack of magic around him. Usually, he could sense his magic moving in and around him. It was a soothing, comforting feeling…and it was currently missing. In an instant, the memories of the fight with the aurors came flooding back into his mind.

Fuck, he thought as he remembered collapsing upon his return to the manor, magical exhaustion.

He'd felt this feeling only once before in his life. And he hated it as much now as he had back then. With a weakened magical core, he would be out of commission for several days, if not several weeks. Not to mention, he wouldn't be able to do any magic, even simple summoning spells, until he was fully recovered.

Just my luck.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts by the hand on his forehead brushing his hair off to the side. Harry groaned softly as he tried to move away from the unwanted touch when suddenly the sharp end of a fingernail was dragged harshly along the length of his scar.

A shiver of pain and disgust ran down Harry's spine at the awful feeling. He ripped his eyes open as he violently shoved away the person sitting beside him. But the individual just chuckled softly at the young teen's weak attempts to push him away. Harry's brain was struggling to make sense of what was happening around him and his vision was badly blurred, making his stomach churn. After a brief struggle, Harry felt his arms being pinned down at his sides onto the bed by a heavy weight. Instantly, all of the fight drained from his limbs and Harry let his eyes fall closed with a loud groan. His head was starting to pound angrily with all of his erratic movements.

"Now, now, Harry, it won't do you any good trying to fight me off in your condition. And I wouldn't want you to get into any more trouble than you already are. Besides it was your father who instructed me to care for you in his absence."

The cold, snarling voice made the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. Fenrir Greyback. Why in Merlin's name had his father left him alone and defenseless with the psychopathic werewolf? Harry could feel his adrenaline kick in as the sharp fingernails of the Death Eater dug harshly into his the sides of wrists.

"Leave me alone, Fenrir."

Harry's fierce green eyes sprung open as he said this. He glared up at the man's hairy face, hoping to mask the fear that he was currently feeling. He was exhausted and confused and weak. His body was crying out to him to rest, but his mind was screaming danger. Fenrir was deadly and unpredictable. Harry would not put it past the deranged killer to try to turn him.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that, boy. Your latest stunt has put you in a considerable amount of danger. I am tasked with keeping you safe," there was a crazed, animalistic look in the werewolf's eyes as he looked down at Harry, "You have revealed yourself to be the dark lord's heir…and that means that everyone wants to get their hands on you. Death eaters and ministry bitches alike."

"I. Don't. Need. Your. Protection." Harry ground out as he resumed his struggling against the man's iron grip, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Now, let me go!"

"No," Harry froze as the Death Eater lowered his head close to Harry's face until he could smell the werewolf's rancid breath, "You are not in control of this situation, as much as you think you are. So just relax and this will be over quickly and painlessly."

Harry's eyes widened as horror and desperation flooded his body. The son-of-a-bitch was going to try to turn him.

"N-n-no! You can't do that! My father will kill you if you dare bite me."

"Bite you? I'm not going to bite you," Fenrir grinned down at Harry as he climbed onto the bed next to the young wizard, "I would never try to turn the Dark Lord's heir unless he wanted me to."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

Harry felt his adrenaline pumping through his veins and he had to fight to keep himself calm. He couldn't sure his magic to knock the man off so the only other option was to try and reason with the werewolf…if that was even possible. The Death Eater chuckled softly and, in an instant, tightened his grip on Harry's sore wrists and pulled them up, over his head. All thoughts left Harry's mind as, Fenrir smiled down at him, relishing the frantic look in the teen's eyes. He flipped his leg over the top of the young wizard, straddling him.

What in Merlin's name is he doing?

For the first time in his life, Harry desperately wished that his father would appear…or anyone else for that matter. Fuck, he would even take a ministry auror if it meant getting the werewolf off of him. Harry had never felt so vulnerable and helpless in his entire life. He tried to buck Fenrir off of him, but the bedsheet had twisted around his legs, hampering his efforts. The man just laughed at his weak attempts. Already, Harry could feel his hands losing circulation in the werewolf's deathlike grip.

"Get off me!" Harry finally screamed, his body trembling from pent-up emotions, "What the fuck do you think you are doing?"

Fenrir just leaned his head close to the young wizard's face and growled,

"What am I doing? Oh, my dear Harry. Don't you understand? You are the Dark Lord's heir…that means that his blood runs through your veins. I can smell the power running through you, even now."

The werewolf repositioned his grip on Harry's wrists so that one of his hands was free. It drifted down to the young wizard's forehead. Harry struggled harder as Fenrir brushed his sweaty bangs back and dragged his sharp nail down his scar once more. But unlike that last time, this hurt.

Harry froze as he felt the delicate skin rip open. He let out a soft groan as he felt blood begin to trickle out from his scar and down his forehead. The son-of-a-bitch had made him bleed. His father would be furious when he found out.

Fenrir lowered his face even closer to Harry's until his lips brushed across his pale cheek. The young teen turned his face away and squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to avoid contact with the man. He wished that he would just lose consciousness or that his magic would somehow realise his distress and come to his aid. Hot breath brushed across Harry's forehead as the death eater hissed,

"I can smell the blood running through your veins. It's intoxicating. It's dark. It's delicious."

Harry couldn't help but let out a strangled gasp as he felt a rough tongue glide along his scar. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to force himself to ignore the disgusting feeling, but he couldn't. He was stuck in a real-life nightmare with no way out.

"Do you know what young magic tastes like?" Fenrir said pulling away from Harry, licking his lips, "It tastes like an expensive wine…rich and dark. If I could then I would feast on you, Harry. I would suck your veins dry. I would take your power as my own and it would ruin you."

Harry didn't react. He just lay still, head turned to the side, praying that Fenrir would go away. His scar was throbbing horribly with each beat of his heart. After a long moment of silence, Harry finally felt the weight on his lower abdomen and hips disappear. A second later the tight grip on his wrists vanished.

The monster had let him go.

Gradually, the blood began to return to Harry's hands bringing a painful tingling sensation along with it. The burning along his scar also began to fade and the disgusting wetness left behind by Fenrir's tongue dissipated. Harry finally began to gain control of his breathing again as his brain tried to comprehend what had just happened.

The fucking werewolf had cut him and licked the fucking blood up like a dog. This thought caused a feeling of rage to begin to flicker in Harry's chest. Fenrir had dared to attack and hurt him. He would make sure that this death eater was killed for what he had done…in fact, he would make sure that, when he was recovered, he was the one to deliver the final blow.

There was the sound of soft footfalls somewhere off to Harry's right and a second later the young wizard heard the door to his room close with a soft click. Fenrir had left. But it took Harry a long time to get the courage to turn over and glance at the now-empty chair beside his bed.

He was alone…but, for the first time, he didn't want to be. He felt vulnerable. He wanted his father to come back.

William was beyond excited.

This was the week that he was going to get to travel to the nearby Muggle village, Dufftown. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that his parents would ever have given their consent to go on the school outing, but they had. They hadn't even put up an argument for why he shouldn't go. Even so, he half feared that he would be forbidden from going when he showed up at the assigned meeting place the following morning. He wouldn't put it past his parents, particularly his dad, to change their minds the night before and contact Professor Burbage. Professor Lupin had assured him that this would not be the case during their mandatory defense sessions the week prior. But William wouldn't've been surprised if his father decided that it was suddenly too dangerous for him to be allowed to go. He just desperately hoped that his parents had forgotten about the school excursion until it was well over.

"Your move, Will."

William sighed heavily and looked back at the game of wizards chess that he was losing…badly. He didn't even know why Ron asked him to play anymore. He lost every single time. Just by glancing at the board, William could see that Ron had managed to take the other one of his rooks. The young teen looked up at his friend and glared.

"It's not fair! How do I manage to lose every single game I play against you?"

Ron chuckled and leaned back into the chair, a grin on his face.

"'Cause you don't plan out your moves ahead of time. You just play whatever move comes to mind, but I…I always have a plan."

William grumbled and looked back down at the few pieces that he had remaining on the board. His king was sending angry glances up at him every few seconds and looked about ready to just give himself up. William didn't blame him. He was absolutely rubbish at this game, particularly tonight when his brain was focused on the trip. With another heavy sigh, the young wizard reached out to make his next move, praying that Ron would find a way to put him out of his misery soon.

"Hiya, Ginny! You ready for tomorrow?"

Ron's loud exclamation caught William off guard. The teen jumped, his hand knocking over one of his own knights. The piece fell heavily onto its side and instantly began to struggle to right itself, but William was too distracted to try and help. Ginny had come into the common room and all but threw her book bag onto the floor by the fireplace.

"You betcha I'm ready. Anything to get me out of another class with Professor Snape," the red-haired witch said, flopping onto the sofa across from the two boys, "That greasy git of a man is getting on my nerves."

"Ginny!" William was completely appalled, "You can't say stuff like that! Especially not about a professor."

"Aw relax, Will. It's not like there are any teachers around to hear us right now. Besides, he is a right git, no questions about that."

William shook his head. He had no idea how Ginny had managed to survive their first four years at Hogwarts without getting any detentions from Snape. If their potions professor knew even half of the things that Ginny called him behind his back, he would have probably had her expelled by now.

"Where'd you just come in from?" Ron asked eyeing his sister carefully, "Dinner ended a while ago and you aren't in any astronomy classes, as far as I know."

Ginny glanced over at her brother, "I was talking to Professor Burbage about our trip tomorrow if you want to know."

"'Bout what?" William was curious now. It was unlike Ginny to seek out any professor after class hours.

"'Nothing very interesting actually. Just wanted to make sure that none of our parents had tried to cancel the trip last minute. I heard from Fred and George that mum and dad were attending a lot of order meetings lately. Said something about the ministry and death eater attacks. You know…the usual."

"And…Dumbledore isn't calling it off, is he?"

"Don't worry yourself, Will. Your mum and dad haven't managed to convince Dumbledore to do anything of the sort. At least, not that Professor Burbage knows and I feel pretty sure that she would be the first to know."

William leaned back into the soft chair with a sigh of relief. He didn't want anything to interfere with the trip. Merlin's beard, a death eater attack on Dufftown probably wasn't even enough to stop him from going tomorrow. He had been looking forward to this for what felt like years.

"But," Ginny continued, "She did say that Dumbledore has made some changes."

"What?! He can't do that!" Ron leaped up from his seat, succeeding in knocking over the rest of the chess pieces in the process, "That's not fair! We've been looking forward to this trip for ages now."

"Merlin's sake, Ron," Ginny didn't look happy at her brother's antics, "What, do you have a pixie down your trousers or something?"

Both siblings glared at each other.

"I was saying," Ginny said purposefully drawing out her words, "That Dumbledore has made some changes, but it's nothing that will really affect us at all, at least according to Professor Burbage. Apparently, something's happened with the ministry and You-know-who that has put the order and some parents on edge. To let the trip continue, Dumbledore has agreed to send along some aurors and give the opportunity for parents to go along with us, should they feel the need to."

William groaned loudly, running a hand over his face. Of course, this would happen. His one trip without his parents had just been hijacked. He already knew that his dad would be showing up tomorrow early morning to 'escort' him to Dufftown.

"Fucking hell," Ron muttered, "What, do they not think that we aren't able to protect ourselves and that the emergency portkeys aren't enough? You'd think we're some kind of celebrities with the way that they're protecting us."

"And I wouldn't be surprised if my dad shows up tomorrow with half of the entire auror department on his heels," William groaned, already picturing it in his head, "It's going to be so embarrassing."

"Probably," Ginny said, still somehow sounding happy, "But think about it, Will, they are still letting us go. To be honest, I didn't even think that they were going to allow us to do that. I think that we should count this as a win in our books."

"In your books, maybe," William muttered, feeling his frustration rising to the surface, "At least, your dad won't be there tomorrow breathing down your neck the entire time. I just wanted one day…one trip without my parents. And they can't even give me that."

The three friends drifted off into silence. William glared into the fire, lost in his own angry thoughts. He just wanted to be able to experience the world without his parents holding his hand every step of the way. He knew that the death of his older brother had made them hyper-paranoid about losing another one of their children, but he was fourteen years old now, for Merlin's sake. He wasn't a child anymore.

At his side, William's hands closed into fists. It was times like these when he began to resent the brother he had never met. This was all Harry's fault. William knew it was unfair to blame a dead baby for his misfortunes, but he didn't care. If Harry hadn't been born then his parents wouldn't be sad and scared all the time. Without Harry, they would have been able to be a normal family and be able to do normal things. But instead, he was stuck with a depressed mum and a dad who wouldn't let him have even a glimpse of freedom.

It was all Harry's fault…