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Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
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Severus Snape ran through the Forbidden Forest, werewolves and vampires snapping at his heels, herding him toward the darkest part of the forest. He pushed through the brush and the brambles, his hands and face whipped by flailing branches and thorny vines. He whimpered as one thorn caught his lip, tugged, and ripped the tender skin. Severus licked at the blood and spit as he tried to evade his pursuers.
A vampire materialized in front of him, its fangs gleaming in the filtered moonlight. “Incarcerous!” Severus screamed and then ran past the bound creature, shoving it aside and onto a broken branch. The resultant flames as it died slowed a few of the creatures, but several werewolves jumped the burning vampire with snarling barks, intent upon Severus’ blood.
Suddenly, he broke through the trees and found himself confronted by a gleaming stone ring! Even the werewolves hard on his heels skidded to a stop, their hunting howls cutting off in mid-timbre. Severus watched a few vampires fly and lope into the clearing and come to an abrupt stop, frozen in place as if they were flies caught in amber. “Bloody hell,” he gasped out.
All but one of the werewolves ran away when Severus turned, his wand sweeping from one unmoving vampire to another, and then flinging them through the air and far, far away from the unexpected stone ring. When only Severus and the single werewolf remained did he square his shoulders and stare down the length of his wand, the words of the Killing Curse hovering just behind his teeth. The beast sat down with a thumping tail sweeping side-to-side behind it, disconcerting Snape, it shook it.
Severus’ jaw dropped slightly. “Lupin? It’s you?” The werewolf’s tongue lolled out, shook its head and then flopped down on its side. “Bloody scared the shite right out of me, you mangy bag of fur!” Severus dropped to his knees, chest heaving once the adrenaline sustaining him began to ebb. He shook all over in reaction.
A cold, damp nose snuffled at Severus’ hair, and warm wolfish breath made his eyes water. He reared back, shoving at the lupine form. “Gah! You ate something very dead, didn’t you, Lupin?” he asked in a choked voice. Then he started laughing, sinking onto his heels as the strange sound passed his lips.
“Morgana’s tits! I must be mad!” Severus fell to his side and lay curled up on the damp ground, the moonlight reflected from within the very stones of the ring. He looked into Lupin’s yellowish eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Mad dogs and Englishmen, Lupin, that’s what we are…” Severus coughed and a thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Lupin whined and nudged Severus’ shoulder with his nose.
“Damn…thought Bellatrix missed me during that last volley…” Severus’ voice faded away.
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Moony understood nothing but that the man’s scent was that of a friend, the one that brewed the swill Two-legs drank to keep them both calm during the full moon’s reign. He knew that he had to protect the man and had maimed several vampires and werewolves as they raced willy-nilly through the Forbidden Forest, running toward the Crystal Hills hidden within it.
When the Two-legs fell and the smell of blood tainted the air, he sniffed at the mouth, licking away the blood, but more came. He sat down and threw back his head and howled to the sky. After a moment, the howl was returned….
The stone ring glowed with a faint blue tinge and a dire wolf—brindled and far larger than even Greyback at his most ferocious—leapt out over the ancient altar from thin air. It circled the interior of the stone circle, sniffing the air. When Moony’s protective growl threaded the stones, it slowly turned its head and stalked forward and between the standing stones, growing more substantial with every step.
One sharp woof and Moony was on his belly, teeth bared to show he was submitting but not voluntarily. The dire wolf seemed to huff and chuckle at the sight and then ignored the werewolf for the man dying in the clearing. It ran its nose under Severus’ chin and Moony was up in a flash, pushing aside the larger animal’s snout and snapping out a warning.
“Be still, Conrí. They mean us no harm.” A man, dressed in leather trews and a sleeveless jerkin, gleaming—gold?—armbands and a heavy gold torque around his neck stepped through the stone altar and strode arrogantly past the standing stones. Inside Moony, Remus was aware that the being before him had to be someone, something powerful, and when the antlers on the man’s head solidified, Moony rolled over on his back, belly up in true submission.
Another canine leapt out of nothingness and over the stone altar. It was large, black as midnight and its eyes glowed with a red light. Then it transformed into Sirius Black, the way he was before Azkaban, before the first war. “Moony? Oh, the Seven Hells! You just had to pick him, didn’t you?” Sirius knelt down and carded his fingers through the ruff and fur over Moony’s stomach.
Woof! Moony rolled away from Black’s fingers—they were cold! He jumped up and sat at Severus’ head, his teeth revealed in a soft growl.
“Yeah, I know, mate. It’s not warm behind the Veil, but the company is to die for!” Sirius’ barking laugh was joined by the dire wolf’s chuffing bark and the antlered-man’s deep chuckle. “Don’t think it’s funny, huh? Well, ‘bout as funny as you and Snape, but…” He waved his hand in a negligent manner and a tree fell into the clearing. “Whups! Still getting used to the powers.”
Arr-oof! Moony barked. He lay down with his head on Severus’ shoulder and watched the beings with sharp eyes.
“Sir, I think they’re still fighting that war I told you about.” Sirius stood up and Moony was surprised to see he was inches shorter than the being with the antlers. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“You can call me by the name your people use, Sirius. The werewolf’s eyes are curious.” The antlered head turned and nodded toward Moony and he barked a soft acknowledgement.
“Herne, Moony, he’s the leader of the Wild Hunt tonight. He wears Cernunnos’ horns so we all follow him.” The dire wolf, Conrí, howled and transformed into a fierce looking Celt, tattoos flaring as if they were made of blue fire swirled around his left eye and down his neck to twine around his left arm. “He’s Conrí, was here long before Hogwarts, and…”
“An’ he can speak fer himself. I take it yer druid needs help?” he asked. Moony nodded but didn’t leave Severus’ side as he stepped nearer. “I’ll na’ hurt him. I was once as him, I reckon I know his heart better ‘n all here.” Conrí knelt by Snape and ran his hands through the air just inches above the unconscious wizard. Moony watched closely, his nose following each movement, each touch.
Herne put two fingers in his mouth and whistled; it was a shrill, piercing call that cut through time and space. “Conrí, your mate will be here to help. The others need to venture forth and gain their footing while you heal the wizard.” He looked toward Hogwarts Castle, far, far on the other side of the Forbidden Forest. “He still has much to do.”
The sound of hooves—dozens of them—and baying hounds, and trumpets and harps grew louder and louder as the nothingness beyond the stone altar began to glow. Soon, the rest of the Wild Hunt burst through opening and passed the standing stones, filling the clearing with horses exhaling blue-white fire, elves dressed in delicate finery and fiercesome weapons and so fair as to blind and bemuse an ordinary human, lost souls that clung to the stirrups of some of the horses as they moaned out their sins, and one or two mythical beings that Moony’s human half couldn’t put a name to. They went round the stone circle thrice before coming to a stamping, snorting stop before Herne and the others.
“We heed your call, Master of the Hunt!” the elves shouted. The horses stamped and then stilled as a young woman who bore a remarkable resemblance to a stern Luna Lovegood slipped from her saddle and ran to Conrí’s side. The lost souls were suddenly released and ran away, only to disappear in puffs of fog as the riders laughed.
“Oh, no! It’s Severus,” the woman cried. Moony stared at her and thought he should know her, but her eyes were a cool blue that was like the sun through a sapphire. Then she turned her face and the profile was stately, and it belonged to Emmeline Vance. “Poor dear. Poor, poor boy. What do you need from me, Conrí?” She pulled out a wand that glowed as well and began making arcane runes over Severus’ body.
Sirius stood by, his arm crossed as he watched the witch Snape was supposed to have betrayed working to save his life. “He told Bellatrix he sent you to your death, Emmeline. Why in the all the hells known are you helping him?” Sirius growled. Moony growled back.
Finishing the runic phrase she was ascribing over Severus’ heart, Emmeline looked over her shoulder. “I was dying, you dolt! I knew Severus needed something to solidify his place with Voldemort. I’m not a looby, you know!” She turned back to smooth the hair off of Snape’s forehead. “He was a lonely boy, and a lonelier man. He also knew how to do his duty…” she turned back to stare at Sirius, “unlike some others I could mention. I had him finish it. He showed me mercy and I bought him more time to protect Potter.” Emmeline reached across Severus’ body to touch Conrí’s arm. “In dying, he sent me to my mate. For that alone I would heal him a thousand times over.” Conrí glanced up with a smile and then went back to healing Snape.
Soon Severus’ breathing was less labored and more like a man in a deep sleep. The ancient Animagus and the former Order of the Phoenix member labored over him as the Wild Hunt milled about, solidifying in the cold night air. Herne called out and the Cwn Annwn, his snow-white, red-eared spectral hounds, bayed and rushed between and underneath the horses’ hooves to gather ‘round him. Moony felt the call—it was wild and primeval and so very enticing—but he stayed near Severus, breathing in time with him as Conrí and Emmeline Vance finished their ministrations.
“Moony, wouldn’t you like to run with me?” Sirius asked when the other two had stepped away. He drew closer, his long-fingered hand reaching out to Moony. “With me? It’d be better than old times, mate. There’s so much to see, so many lost souls to gather.” Sirius bent closer to look Moony in the eye. “We do the world a service, Moony.”
Moony shook his head and laid it back on Severus’ shoulder, scooting closer to the wizard’s side. Sirius sighed and just as he reached forward, Herne’s hand stopped him. “You’ll not take the werewolf or the wizard, Sirius. They have work we cannot do. They are neither lost souls nor evil-doers. We ride for those creatures tonight, not them.” He pulled Sirius away and spun him into the midst of the Wild Hunt.
“Would you accept the laying of my hands upon your hide and your mate’s head?” Herne asked. When Moony nodded, he knelt across from the werewolf on Severus’ other side. Golden armbands glinting under the full moon, Herne the Hunter spoke a low, guttural phrase, over and over, until his hands seemed to burn with the same fire as Conrí’s tattoos. He reached out and put one hand on Severus’ head, cupping his right cheek, and the other on Moony’s shoulder, fingers digging through the fur to find skin. With a powerful yell, he finished his incantation and the power ripped out of him and into Moony and Severus, who both shook as it coursed through their bodies. The Wild Hunt stilled, the very air stopped, even the moonlight seemed to freeze as they were blessed by the ancient being.
Taking a deep breath, Herne shook his head and his antlers glinted in the moonlight. “I have not done that in many eons, werewolf. I have not met many who could withstand such power, and yet, here you still are.” He stood up with effortless grace and snapped his fingers. A seemingly docile warhorse trotted to his side, its eyes burning with the strange blue fairy-fire. “Your battle is almost at an end, Remus Lupin. My host and I will make certain of that!”
Herne leapt onto his horse in one motion and sat tall in his simple saddle. He grabbed a ram’s-horn trumpet from where it was tied and raised it to his lips. He looked down at Moony with a vicious grin. “Drag the wizard to the standing stones, werewolf, else he’ll become part of someone’s hooves.” Moony rushed to comply as the Hunter blew one, two, three long blasts on the trumpet.
“Go forth, my riders! Go forth and make the night one of fear for the evil! Bring me souls!” Herne cried out. He blew three short blasts on the trumpet and the Cwn Annwn sprang into the sky, baying like the hounds they were. Next, Herne the Hunter seemed to don the very darkness of night, his eyes glowing like coals and his skin marked with starry pinpoints, and he and his steed leapt into the sky. The host followed until only Conrí, Emmeline, and Sirius remained.
“He’s a good heart, that one, werewolf. I’d protect him if I were ye!” Conrí said before he Transformed back into the dire wolf.
Emmeline knelt down and hugged Moony, whispering in his ear, “He did all he could to save me, you know. But in the end, he knew his duty. Make certain he knows his heart as well, Remus.” She stood up and her steed knelt just far enough that she could climb into the saddle without much effort. She and Conrí seemed to salute Moony and Severus and then they joined the Wild Hunt as well.
“I’d take you with me, Moony, whatever Herne says…if you wanted,” Sirius muttered. “I miss you, mate.”
“You can’t have him!” Severus mumbled and wrapped an arm around Moony’s shoulder. “Not good ‘nuff for him!” he snarled weakly. Moony licked his cheek which set Snape to sputtering and Sirius to laughing. “’m not good ‘nuff either…”
“Well, at least the sod knows you’re worth ten of him, Moony!” Sirius backed away with a grin. “When your time comes, I’ll be there, just in case Snape there can’t be!” He winked and Padfoot stood there, the very essence of the Grim in his aspect, and gave a long, shiver-inducing howl. He bowed in the pairs’ direction and took a flying leap into the night sky, barking as he chased the Wild Hunt.
Moony struggled to his feet and howled out a farewell, and heard Conrí and Padfoot return it across the sky. Even the Cwn Annwn bayed out a reply for him as the Wild Hunt drew further away.
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Severus rolled over and realized he was still alive, and feeling better than he had when he’d woken up that morning. In fact, he thought he might have heard Emmeline Vance’s voice, muttering runic spells as she was wont to do when working on a problem. He’d even swear—and he shuddered at the idea—that Sirius Black had been there.
Woof!
He turned his head and saw Lupin’s werewolf form dancing around him, sharp claws digging into the grass of the clearing. The daft beast even flopped over and waggled its legs in the air like a puppy! “What’s come over you, Lupin?” Severus felt for his wand and found it in his hand, as well as another one, one he’d seen buried with Emmeline Vance years before! “What the hell happened?” He stood up shakily.
A voice spoke from behind him. “You were given a second chance, Severus Snape.” He turned and saw a woman in glowing robes walk between the standing stones of the circle. She drew closer, gliding over the grass without bending a single blade. When she was close enough, Severus fell to his knees.
“Yes, Severus Snape, I am Dôn, Mother of many in the Wild Hunt.” Severus bowed his head and felt Lupin’s furry shoulder press against his own. “My children deemed you worthy, Severus Snape. And you, Remus Lupin.” She laughed, and it was as if burbling steams flowed past them and crystal bells tinkled in the Forbidden Forest.
Lupin chuffed warm air into Severus’ ear and he shivered and looked up at the ancient goddess in awe. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
“Hush, wizard, hush. I agree with them. You are a child of mine as well, Severus Snape. As such, you and your mate have earned my blessing as well.” Dôn put her hands up in a prayerful attitude and began an ululating string of sounds. With each change in pitch, each octave shift, the air shimmered and grew warmer, and Severus’ spirit grew lighter.
As the last notes died away, Severus felt an icy sensation on his left arm. It was in the same place he was burned with the Dark Mark. He pulled his sleeve up slowly, dreading what he might find. Where the Dark Lord’s brand had been, a new tattoo wrapped around his arm: it was a Celtic chain drawn in blue fire, made of leaping wolves and what looked like rowan trees. He touched it with wondering fingertips and then looked up at the Mother Goddess. There was no pain, no pull on his magic anymore.
“Thank you,” he breathed out. She smiled upon him.
“Thank you.” Severus turned and saw Lupin standing in the moonlight, a blue-fire tattoo covering his shoulder. “Seems you and your family are fond of tattoos,” he said with a wry grin as he held up his hand. There were thin Celtic chains around his right thumb, middle and little fingers.
“We are fond of a great many things, Wolf-walker. Stout hearts and dutiful men are my weaknesses.” Dôn turned and began walking through the standing stones, growing more insubstantial with each step. “May these blessing bring you long life and strength in your war, my sons.” As the last word left her lips, the goddess disappeared.
“Severus?” Remus brushed his fingers over Severus’ tattoo, feeling only the cool skin and no Dark Magic. “Severus? I’d rather prefer you liking what just happened and not pitching a fit.” He stepped close enough that he could feel Severus’ breath stutter.
“You’re a dream. A nightmare. You’re what I wanted for so long, but this is only in my mind,” Severus whispered. He turned away and stared into the Forbidden Forest. When strong, scarred arms wrapped around him and drew him close, Severus started and squirmed.
Lupin’s voice was directly in his ear, and the man’s cock was pressing into his buttocks. “I think this proves I’m real, that your Dark Mark is gone, and I think we should celebrate before we go back to the war.” He rolled his hips and Severus bit off a surprised moan. “This is a special night, and with the Wild Hunt on the prowl, we can rest for a bit, here in this magical glade.”
Severus turned in Remus’ arms, a half-hearted scowl on his lips. He parted his lips to deny everything just as Remus leaned up and kissed him for the first time. He didn’t even feel his arms wrap around Lupin until they were cock-to-cock, their tattoos seeming to throb with cool fire as the kiss deepened. Severus pushed his tongue into Remus’ mouth, delving into his cheeks, under the man’s tongue, seeking that indefinable taste that was Lupin’s alone and finding it a very fine vintage indeed!
“Mmm…” Remus murmured as he slid his lips over Severus’ mouth, letting him map every tooth in his head instead of taking a deep, and needed, breath of air. When Severus’ tongue withdrew, Remus’ followed and found out that not all the wizard’s teeth were crooked or snaggled and that he tasted rich and earthy and was intoxicating. Finally, the necessity for breath drove them apart, and both gulped in lungfuls of air, their arms wrapped tight around each other.
“Gods, Severus, you taste like dark chocolate and fine wine and all the best parts of ambrosia,” Remus whispered into Severus’ shoulder. He turned his head and kissed the tattoo that wandered down the right side of Severus’ face. The skin was cool under his lips but seemed to catch fire as he lavished attention on it. “Fire and ice and spice, that’s my Severus Snape,” he whispered into Snape’s ear and then nipped the lobe.
“Guh!” Severus’ knees buckled and they slowly fell to earth, Remus guiding their descent with his powerful thighs and calves. “How did you know?” he gasped, pointing his chin and offering more of his neck, and his ear, for Remus’ consideration and attention. Each nip and lick seemed to wrack Severus’ body with desire, driving him to press against Remus’ naked body until his hips rhythmically began rolling up and down.
“Yes…oh, yes, Severus…” Remus breathed out. His hands were busy trying to get through Severus’ wooly armor and then he just took a grip with each hand and tore the robes apart, frantic to get Snape naked. “Want you…wanted you so long…” he murmured over and over as he began revealing Severus’ smooth, pale skin to the moonlight.
Shuddering on his knees, Severus bit his lip and tried to think clearly. “I’m a bloody wizard, Lupin. You are too…” He wheezed when the cool night air caressed his buttocks. “I want a bed, Lupin, or that gorgeous cock isn’t getting anywhere near me.” He laughed when Remus grabbed Emmeline’s wand and conjured a standard Hogwarts’ four-poster piled high with pillows and duvets. “I’ll have to motivate you more often…Remus,” Severus breathed against Lupin’s mouth before he attempted to crawl inside via his mate’s tongue.
The bed was forgotten for a few moments as Severus rewarded Remus. When they found themselves on the damp grass, both laughed and then picked themselves up, Remus’ hands skimming the torn robes and other clothes off of Severus’ body before they tumbled onto the bed. They rolled and slowly aligned their bodies to touch from lips to cocks, arms and legs wrapping around each other. The blue fairy-fire of their tattoos glowed within their skins, flaring whenever either one brushed lips or fingertips over them.
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At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just past the clearing’s perimeter, glowing eyes watched as Remus crawled down Snape’s body, mouthing lover’s-words into the wizard’s skin and leaving love-bites to mark the trail. They fluttered shut when Remus’ mouth slowly closed over the purple mushroom head, slowly swallowing it as if it were the best treat ever invented. The sounds of the forest faded as Severus’ moans increased in volume and Remus’ muted sounds were caught against Snape’s groin.
The watcher shivered, and the branches around him moved in sympathy. His hands smoothed down his body to cup his aching prick, fingers grasping in time with Remus’ bobbing head. Every time Snape moaned, the watcher pinched his own nipples, biting his lip to keep from moaning aloud.
When Remus’ left hand disappeared between Snape’s legs and the wizard writhed and begged, the watcher undid his trousers and pushed his smalls down under his bollocks and slid shaking fingers up and down his throbbing prick. He stroked in time with Snape’s gasped pleas, twisting at the fleshy knob and then squeezing when Remus’ tongue peeked out. Soon he was pulling at his bollocks, trying to hold back as Remus sucked the very essence from Snape’s cock.
Strangling the base of his prick, the watcher breathed rapidly through his nose, puffs of fog writhing before his face in the cool night air. He bit his tongue when Remus gently rolled Snape over, a limp, pliant partner whose voice was softer now. He bit harder, tasting blood, when Remus’ face pressed between the globes of Snape’s arse, sounds of slurping floating on the air. Still his fingers encircled the base of his throbbing prick, waiting to join them in their final act of love.
When Snape pushed to his arms, his back bowing, and his thighs spreading wider, the watcher took a shuddering, silent breath in through his mouth, his eyes glued to the winking dark opening Remus was pushing first his thumb against, laughing as it sucked at the digit. He then pushed two shiny fingers in, both of them stilling on the conjured bed. The watcher’s breath caught in his chest as his grip tightened and his other hand pulled at his bollocks.
“Damn you, Lupin!” Snape cried as he tried to fill himself. “Fuck me like you mean it!” he ordered.
“Oh, I can do that, love,” Remus purred as he replaced his fingers with his slicked cock. He pressed inexorably past the tight ring of muscle, his face stiffening into a rictus of painful pleasure as Snape howled beneath him. When Remus stopped, his groin was tight against Snape’s arse, and the watcher was choking his prick with each stroke, blood filling his mouth as kept biting his lip.
“So right!” Remus gasped. “Feels so right! I knew it would…” he moaned. Snape flexed beneath him, his arse seeming to swallow more of Remus with the move.
“Bloody right it’s right! You’re mine, Lupin!” Snape growled. He shimmied and the motion set Remus to pounding into him, the bed skittered across the damp grass of the clearing.
The watcher pressed back and found his body against a sturdy oak, his body shaking as he tried to hold back the swelling tide building in his bollocks. When Remus stiffened and pulled Snape upright so he could press one hand against the man’s heart and wrap the other around his renewed erection, the watcher moaned thinly and erupted over his hands, coating the leaves and bushes in front of him. The pair on the conjured bed didn’t notice a thing.
Snape cried out and thrust into Remus’ gripping hand as a thick stream of pearly cream exploded from him. He shook in Remus’ arms as the werewolf kept pounding into him and then howled as he filled Snape. The watcher slid down the bumpy bark of the oak, his hands sticky and his lips bloody. He saw the pair roll together to the undecorated side of the bed, their bodies still pressed close together.
As Snape and Remus murmured sweet nothings, the watcher waved his wand over his groin and hands, a barely-breathed Scourgify passing his abused lips as his eyes never left them. Finally, as Remus pulled away and searched for Snape’s wand, the watcher cast a wordless Silencio on himself and pushed away from the oak, dragging himself up the tree. As he turned, a stray beam of moonlight illuminated him.
Harry Potter closed his eyes, a stray tear falling down his cheek. “I want that!” he whispered to the dark as he walked quietly away.
If he would have turned, he’d have seen Herne the Hunter slipping out of the oak tree he’d leaned against, the faint tang of wood smoke and fertile earth scenting the air. Harry didn’t feel the zing of his blessing but his spine straightened and his steps were surer as he headed back to Hogwarts and the war.
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Severus saw the flash of fairy-fire in the Forbidden Forest, but covered by Remus, he didn’t feel an overwhelming urge to investigate. He murmured against his lover’s ear, “I think someone saw us, Remus.”
“Uh, huh…I could smell them.” Remus turned his head to nuzzle Severus’ throat. “I think it was Harry.” He nipped and then licked Severus’ throat, his tongue following the bob of Snape’s Adam’s-apple.
“I’ll Obliviate him later then…” Severus sighed as his body responded once more to Remus’ overtures. “Do we have time yet?” he asked softly.
Remus lifted his head and saw the moon still in the same position as when the Wild Hunt had taken flight. “I think we’ve been given time, Severus.” He breathed deeply as he nosed behind Severus’ ear. “Let’s make the most of it, shall we?” he asked before stealing yet another kiss.
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Vampires and werewolves ignored the youth slipping through the Forbidden Forest. He carried the scent of the Ancient Ones. When the Wild Hunt came howling out of the Crystal Hills and swept across the Hogwarts’ night sky, they were caught by the elves. Greyback’s spine was broken by both the dire wolf and the Grim. Bellatrix Lestrange screamed as Emmeline Vance’s magical arrow caught her in the throat. MacNair stood stock-still as the Cwn Annwn surrounded him, their fangs bared as they slowly circled him, their prey.
As Remus and Severus made love once again in their gift of stilled time, Harry stepped out onto a field strewn with robes and cloaks and wands. There were no Death Eaters, no werewolves, no vampires, nothing Dark of any kind. He picked up a cracked Death Eater mask and threw it into the air and blasted it to nothingness with a barely muttered Incendio!
He turned as the sounds of hounds baying and hooves striking stone grew louder behind him. Harry fell on his arse as the Wild Hunt flew above him, his eyes growing wider as the elves smirked at him, the horses breath flaring with blue flame, and the horned leader wheeled his steed in the air and cantered down to the ground, waving the rest of the Hunt on. Only a large black dog, a Grim, followed.
As the horned man jumped from his horse, the Grim became Sirius Black running to scoop Harry up into a hug. “Harry!” he cried as he whirled the young man around in a circle. “I’m so glad I found you, lad.”
“Set the boy down, Sirius. His color is not good.” Herne’s dark look was leavened by a swift grin as Sirius did as he was told. Harry wobbled and then clutched at his godfather.
Herne watched the Hunt swoop around the hills around Hogwarts, his senses filled with the wealth of lost souls they’d captured and the toll they’d dealt that eon’s Dark Lord. He listened with half an ear as Sirius and Harry spoke together, their voices soft in the night. “We have to go, Sirius Black. The Hunt needs to continue for several more hours,” Herne said. “You have work to do tonight to help the young man, do you not?” he asked with a smirk. His horse butted his shoulder and Herne grabbed the reins and mounted him with one leap.
“I’ve got to go, Harry.” Sirius hugged him close and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Tonight’s work will make Moldy Voldie blistering hot under that snakeskin collar, Harry. But don’t worry. Remus and Snape will be there to help.” Harry nodded and then stepped back, his arms catching on Sirius’ ribs.
“I’ll miss you, like always, Sirius.” Harry put up his hand as Herne and his steed flew into the night sky and then Padfoot joined them with a joyful yip. Herne wheeled back and ran over Harry’s head, a scroll dropping into his hands.
Harry watched them race toward the West. He pulled his wand and conjured a Blue-bell Flame, grinning as the color reminded him of what he’d seen of Remus and Snape’s tattoos. Then he let the scroll unroll and whistled as he read the ancient spell of Undoing. All he needed was a Grey Wizard and a Werewolf to cast it…he looked back into the Forbidden Forest with a grin. “I know just who to ask for help,” he whispered.
“Of course you do, Harry…” He turned around, his wand stabbing toward the forest. Moony stepped out from between the trees, Snape at his side.
“You’re the luckiest damned boy I’ve ever met, Potter,” Severus said with a sly grin. “And I knew there had to be a catch to such largesse.” Snape cast a sideways glance at his lover, eyebrow quirked. Remus just smiled.
“We’ll make them proud, won’t we?” Harry asked.
“We will, Harry,” Remus said. He was naked, but he stood proudly at Snape’s side. His form then shimmered and Moony sat in his place.
Moony pushed against Severus and then ran to Harry’s side. He sniffed the scroll and then sat down, his tail sweeping across the ground slowly. “Yeah, Sirius was here.” Harry looked to the West.
“As my mate so eloquently stated ‘We will…Harry.” Snape gestured Harry ahead of him and the trio began walking toward Hogwarts Castle. “Now, how many points shall I take from Gryffindor for tonight’s excursion?”
“Hey, now!” Harry exclaimed. “You’re out here!”
Moony gave a chuffing laugh and loped ahead as Harry tried to change Severus’ mind. Herne blew his ram’s-horn trumpet and led the Wild Hunt across the starry sky and to the South, toward the blight on his homeland, and even more lost souls.
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