To become a werewolf, it is necessary to be bitten by a werewolf in their wolfish form at the time of the full moon. When the werewolf's saliva mingles with the victim's blood, contamination will occur. Majorities of those bitten do not survive the initial attack, which are notoriously brutal.
Lupine Menace p12
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June 2010
The red moon shone brightly upon the Dark Forest, and Hogwarts was only a few miles away. It was a chilly night for mid-June, the forest floor still faintly damp from the rains earlier in the afternoon. The red glow of the moon seemed to cast a muted red hue on the entire forest as if turning it into a low-budget horror movie.
It was the perfect night for a dark wizard to be illegally selling restricted potion supplies. Auror Harry Potter moved silently through the trees, his partner Auror Harold Greer a few yards to the left of him, trying and failing to move quietly even with the advantage of the damp ground muting his footsteps.
Ron had quit the Aurors six years ago to help his brothers run their joke shop business, which had expanded to several locations. They had reassigned Harry to Auror Harold Greer, a capable older Auror who had been one of the many who had fought in the second wizarding war. Harry worked well with Greer, who, when given the opportunity, would pull out his wallet and begin to show pictures of his kids off. Greer's priority was his family, and he made no secret of that, and frequently pulled Harry back from drowning himself in work.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement had been tracking this particular wizard for a few weeks and so far he had managed to stay ahead of them, escaping each time they were close. The convenience of the escapes made Harry suspicious that there was someone in the office leaking information. Despite numerous departmental changes and initiatives, corruption was a stubborn malady to cure.
Harry had fought hard to reform the DMLE, but it was a struggle when prejudice was so deep-set and accepted. Hermione had quit the Ministry a few years before advising him that it would be impossible to change the institution without more money or connections than the remaining sacred twenty-eight that still moved behind the scenes still manipulating the government to their whims.
Another twig snapped under Auror Greers' heavy tread and Harry winced. Did the wizard not know the meaning of moving quietly? As they continued to move deeper into the forest, something niggled at Harry's consciousness. There was something wrong. He moved even more cautiously, trying to identify what exactly was bothering him, and abruptly realized that there were no sounds in the dark forest. Except for the crackle and faint crunch coming from Greers' boots to his left, the forest was absolutely silent.
Harry froze as he spotted something moving low to the ground through the trees. What the fuck was that? Then his partner screamed, breaking the silence, and his head whipped around in Greer's direction. Flashes of different colored fur were briefly exposed to red moonlight as they moved almost in unison to attack. What must have been at least twenty werewolves converged on Greer, and his partner disappeared under the pile of viciously biting werewolves screaming for help.
"Greer!" Harry ran towards Greer, his wand out, knockback and binding jinxes emitting continuously the faint whooshing sound of his spells shooting through the air obscured by Greer's repeated screams. Werewolves had moderate resistance to magic - it typically takes two or three stunning spells to actually knock one out - and even then, they roused quickly. Better to try to disable them with binding spells. How the hell were there so many? He hadn't heard of any pack applying for sanctuary within the dark forest.
A dark brown snout clamped on his wrist, teeth digging in, and Harry tightened his right hand on his wand as pain lanced up his left arm. "Protego!"
The spell ripped the teeth from his arm as the protective shield flung the werewolf back from him. Harry screamed spells as the pain radiated up his arm- the shield spell weakened almost immediately as werewolves flung themselves viciously at the barrier, trying to break through, biting the air as if they were attacking the magic itself.
Harry had to get to Greer first - then he'd apparate them both out. He hadn't defeated that fucker Voldemort, only to die under these werewolves tonight. His shield charm disintegrated in the few steps it took for him to reach the fallen body of his partner. The pack converged on him, biting and clawing into him, shredding through the protection spells on his Auror robes like paper. A claw slashed across his face and the world turned red as he felt the skin of his partner's arm.
Harry apparated them both out with a loud crack to the middle of St Mungos collapsing immediately. He heard the screams and couldn't imagine how they looked. Hermione was going to be so brassed off at him. He felt himself get lifted onto a stretcher and then passed out.
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Harry came to consciousness slowly, blinking his eyes and raising a shaky hand to swipe at his wet face. Blood gleamed a dull black in the red moonlight. The iron smell of blood was intense, and he looked around, disorientated. He was in the dark forest again. It wasn't as creepily silent as it had been before the attack, though. The wind whistled through the trees and he could hear the faint noises of the forest animals.
He tried to peer around him for wolves but could see nothing in the dim shadows cast by the moon. His entire body hurt, spasms clutching at his muscles as he tried to stand, stumbling at first. He was still wearing his blood-stained Auror robes and patted his pockets for his wand.
"Fuck." He couldn't find his wand. In the years he'd been an Auror he'd become adept with wandless magic, but there was no denying his spells were far more powerful and targeted when cast with a wand. "Accio wand."
He waited, holding out his hand and pushing with magic, but nothing happened. His wand wasn't close enough for the reach of his magic to lock on. He stumbled again as his legs spasmed painfully, the muscles rippling, and he fell to his knees with a groan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What was happening to him?
A howl ripped through the still night air and he fell forward onto all fours as his entire body twisted and twitched in response. The sound of the howl seemed to latch into him like a hook, yanking him forward and he crawled involuntarily forward a yard, before getting unsteadily to his feet again.
His nostrils flared as the wind brought a strange scent: fur, blood, and power. He shrugged off his shredded, bloody auror robe as he walked through the dark forest, heading towards that pull that still echoed through him from that howl even though the sound had faded. It was like a reverberation in his blood, pounding and urging him on. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, his arms wrapped around his own body as if he was forcibly trying to keep himself together. The smell got stronger as he walked. It wasn't unpleasant; it was almost... comforting?
He stepped out of the forest into a huge clearing. The stars and moon seemed so close as if he could reach out and touch them. In the center of the clearing, sitting down next to each other, were two monstrously oversized wolves, each the size of a small cottage.
Harry tried to stop himself from walking forward, but he had no control over his legs and he continued forward until he stood in front of the enormous wolves.
The larger of the two wolves, a black wolf with green eyes, lowered its head towards him and his mouth drew back, revealing teeth that were as tall as Harry. It spoke in a deep, rasping, masculine voice. "Harry Potter."
"Fuck." Oops, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Hermione was constantly telling him he cussed too much now, and he was going to end up cussing when he shouldn't. She was right, as usual.
A low rumble emerged from the other wolf, which was slightly smaller than the black wolf, and Harry somehow knew it— she —was laughing at him. The white wolf's snout angled to nuzzle the neck of the black next to her and her own teeth flashed as she spoke. "He's definitely got a large piece of your soul, Lycoan."
The black wolf let out a low rumbling growl that made his entire body spasm, and he fell to the ground again. Fuck, that hurt.
"Master of Death." The wolf rumbled as he stood, his large snout approaching where Harry barely managed to keep to his knees as his entire body felt like it wanted to shake apart. "We have a task for you."
"Y-yeah n-ot really up to it." Harry gritted out with difficulty, falling forward on his hands again. It was a testament to his body's uncontrollable shaking that he didn't even notice the white wolf joining the black until her snout came so close she puffed air on him.
"Our children are being mistreated, and we never had one that could handle more of the wolf without dying. You won't die. It has to be you, Harry Potter." She said while her faintly wet snout nosed at him, knocking him over.
You're the one.
The words whispered along his consciousness and he groaned both from pain and the idea of being the 'one' of anything. He was completely over that bollocks.
"This is going to hurt." The black wolf's lips pulled back from his teeth.
Yeah, he fucking figured.
Harry screamed as the wolves bit him, feeling his bones breaking into pieces as their teeth ground down, snapping him. The pain was unbearable, and he choked as they tore him apart, the darkness rushing over him.
When Harry opened his eyes next, he was on the unnaturally clean floor of the bright white of Kings Cross Station. No Dumbledore was waiting for him this time; instead, a man and woman sat leaning against each other on a bench a few feet away from where he lay on the floor, droplets of blood covering the large fur coats they wore. The gleam of the man's green eyes and the woman's amber-brown echoed the enormous wolves that had just fucking eaten him.
"Bloody hell." He murmured to himself, staring up at the ceiling. Dying for the second time had hurt quite a bit more.
"Don't be dramatic, Harry. Come sit down with us."
Even here, the resonance of her voice made something in his gut vibrate with the impulse to obey. "I prefer not to sit with people who have had me for dinner, thanks."
There was the sound of a sharp smack then, "Ow, it's not my fault he's a prick."
Harry angled his head so he could observe the strange couple with him in what he thought of as the waystation to true death. He waved his arm at them, not bothering to get up off the floor. His bones still ached. "Get on with it. What's this about then?"
"We told you, we need your help." The male said in an annoyed tone.
Crazy arsehole, Harry thought. You shouldn't eat someone, then ask them for help. "I'm not particularly inclined to help either of you after that."
"Do you want to help Bill Weasley then?" Asked the woman, and Harry's brows knit together.
The man stood up, rocking back on his heels for a second with a small laugh, looking over at the woman. "Having only two feet is so queer feeling."
"What about Bill Weasley?" Harry asked.
The woman held out her hand, and the man grasped it, helping her stand up. Then they walked gracefully to where Harry remained as he had awoken, on the floor of Death's version of King Cross. They knelt on either side of him, closer than he would have liked, but he remained relaxed, watching them closely. What else could they do to him here, after all?
The woman made a soft chuffing noise, tilting her head in a manner reminiscent of her wolf. "I am Morrighan, Harry Potter, and my children need your help." Her face came closer to his and he could see the flame of her bright amber eyes. "We felt it when you joined the pack. Such intriguing power you have."
'Joined .' That was quite a way to describe it.
Harry kept his sarcasm to himself though as he stared into her amber eyes; something about them reminded him of Hermione. His years in DMLE had helped him hone his bullshit meter and right now, every instinct he had said that she was actually quite desperate and truthful.
"What exactly are you asking of me?"
"You will be the Alpha of Alphas, Harry Potter."
Oh, great, another title. Better than the 'boy who lived' which the press had still liked to use until he threatened them with legal action. "That sounds like porn—"
A loud growl cut him off, and Harry glanced over at the man. "I may be in this body because you forced me, but I can still rip you apart again, Master of Death."
"I'll pass on that." Harry could feel a pull on the center of his chest. He was going to leave soon, and he needed more answers from these two. He sat up, crossing his legs and suppressing a small groan that wanted to escape at the pull on his thighs as he adjusted. "I don't have much time left here. Let's cut this short. Specifically, what are you asking of me?"
"Our wolves are being abused, have been abused for centuries now, since that stupid Myrddin placed a binding on our power in your world."
"Your wolves?"
She placed her hand over the center of her chest. "They, like you, carry a piece of our soul, the wolf. You know them! Lavender Brown, Bill Weasley, Fenrir Greyback, Remus Lupin!"
"You are the reason for the werewolf infection?"
The man cut in sharply. "It's not an infection! It's a blessing."
"To go through a painful shift on each full moon and be compelled to attack other humans mindlessly?"
"It wasn't like that! That wizard tried to pull the wolf out of our children and that's what was left! It's twisted! Of course, the wolf attacks other humans–they're the threat! The wolf does not forget." Her hands clenched angrily as she explained to Harry.
"When you became part of the pack, we knew you were different– stronger than the others. We could reach for you and give you more power without killing you." The man paused, looking around. "Well, killing you permanently, anyway."
"So you want me to fight for werewolf rights?"
The couple laughed before the man continued. "No, you're going to be the Alpha. They'll be your wolves now. You have to take care of them."
"You need to kill Mikhail Morozov." The woman's lip curled back in a snarl, reminiscent of her wolf form as she said the name.
The man looked at her before adding softly. "And you need to find Elara."
"Who—"
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"I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The trauma sustained combined with the blood loss was just too much for him." The calm voice spoke in a low compassionate tone.
An angry feminine voice responded. "You need to get out of my way. Now."
"I'm sorry I can't let you in the room."
Harry sucked in a deep breath as his eyes opened to a bright white room and for a second he thought he was still dead at Kings Cross, but then the smells assaulted his nose. Antiseptic. The rich iron of blood. Somebody needed to lay off the cologne. Fucking hell, it was intense. There was something else, though, almost buried underneath the other stronger smells. Faint.
Sweet.
Vanilla.
Books.
Hermione.
Harry rolled off the bloody hospital bed with a groan, crashing into the table at the side as he tried to keep his feet under him. He looked down and realized they had cut off all his bloody, torn clothing. He looked around, blinking. The room was still fuzzy. Great, he'd be the only werewolf with glasses perched on his face.
"You get out of my way or I will move you out of my way!"
Harry winced. Someone was going to get mowed over by Hermione in short order unless they knew what was good for them. He yanked the bloody sheet to cover his private bits, knowing Hermione was coming in at any minute. Just as he had it over himself, the door flung over and his best friend since his first year at Hogwarts stormed in, stopping abruptly at seeing him standing.
"Harry." Her voice was choked as she stared at him. "This stupid healer told me that–" Hermione cut off as she practically tackled him in a hug.
Mate.
"I came right away. I told you, you need to be careful. Ron is going to —" Hermione continued rambling on a mile a minute, de-stressing by listing everything that happened, but Harry could barely pay attention. Because some part of him was growling very inappropriate things about the way Hermione's breasts felt pressed against him and how good she smelled.
How she smelled like his mate.
Hermione paused awkwardly in her spiel to stare up at him with wide eyes. Because his fucking erection was pressing into her tummy. Could one die of embarrassment?
He used one hand to push her firmly back from him, while the other kept a tight hold on the sheet.
That was my wand in my pocket.
Yeah, okay, let's go with that. Harry opened his mouth (yup he was going to say it) and Ron burst into the room with Lavender following him. "Oh bloody hell mate, you wouldn't believe the bullshit they were just trying to tell me!"
Harry backed up a step. He could hear other footsteps approaching the healers were about to try to shut all this down in a minute. But something about Lavender caught him.
They'll be your wolves now.
Lavender had froze at the door, not approaching closer as she watched him. After the war and Fenrir's attack, she dressed very conservatively, in pants and long sleeve t-shirts with turtlenecks. Ron had tried for years to make her more comfortable appearing in public without being covered up but had finally given in to Lavender's stubbornness on the issue.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, but he still couldn't look away from Ron's wife, from the fact that he could feel a bond with her. What the fuck.
The already crowded room became even tighter as healers barged into the door. "We are going to need you all to leave except Auror Potter. Now."
Ron backed away first, trying to tug along Lavender who remained frozen, staring at him, and he knew she was waiting for his permission. He nodded at her and she moved out of the room still not looking away as her husband pulled her out. Ron, thank Merlin, remained oblivious to the interaction as he led his wife out.
Harry's eyes found Hermione, and as usual, she hadn't missed a beat. "We'll talk about this later." She murmured to him as she slipped past the impatient healers.
The older healer, with white threaded liberally through his blond hair, said in a bewildered tone. "You were dead! You weren't breathing and your heart had stopped. You were dead."
His hand rose to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah. That's a bit complicated. I wanted to ask, though, what about my partner? Is he okay?"
The three healers looked at each other before turning back to him. "He also—uh, he didn't make it. Both your wounds were so extensive—I don't know how you are regenerating yourself and healing your wounds so quickly, but your partner died within minutes of your arrival at the emergency entrance."
Greer's quiet smile as he flipped open his wallet to show Harry more pictures of his kids flashed in his mind.
Fuck.