The loose rocky soil shifted under his feet as he ran kicking up pebbles and filling the night air with the smell of grit and mud. The dark trees around him were silent as they loomed close, their inhabitance silenced by the presence of the beast snapping on his heels as completely as if someone had pressed a mute button on their TV. His chest ached, his throat red raw as he gasped for air running as fast as he could up the sloping hill with the hilt of the dagger he clutched cold in his hand.

Up. Up. Up. His feet slipped multiple times and it was a miracle that he didn't fall. If he had, the monster on his heels would have caught him for sure.

Just when he thought that he couldn't climb any further the mountainside flattened out into a large open ledge. Before him rose the gaping maw of the mountain, the rotted through boards hammered into place across it sticking out at ragged angles like broken teeth. An ancient looking sign hung crooked above the shaft reading Jezt's mine, and painted across it in faded red letters was the word BORASCA.

"Harrison!" The same broken snarl that he'd heard it speak in when it broke into his room. It spurred him forwards despite his exhaustion, burning chest and aching limbs. "Harrison!" The boards were so rotted through that they broke on contact with his body as he barreled through them. The shaft was damp and cold and the moist air rested heavy on his skin. The small puddles of water splattered across the ground splashed loudly as he ran deeper into the mountain. Ahead of him the shaft crumbled into a gaping hole bridged only by a decaying wooden pylon. In the bit, sixty feet below him, he could make out the numerous stake-like stalagmites rising from the bottom, glistening with water and thick veins of silver ore. "Harrison!"

He jerked awake and opened his eyes, blinking blearily up at Tom who stood over him at the foot of the bed. His garnet gaze appeared to be concerned, but he couldn't clearly make out his features when his glasses were still sitting on the nightstand.

"Tom?" the raven questioned, the raised hairs and goosebumps along his arms slowly beginning to settle. "What happened?"

The brunet exhaled in what almost amounted to relief and handed him his glasses. "I heard you thrashing around from downstairs and came up to wake you. You were having a nightmare." He gently ran a hand through his wild black hair.

That was a bit of an understatement. What he'd seen wasn't too terrifying in the grand scheme of things but the adrenaline and overall disorientation of the situation had left him feeling extremely off balanced and confused.

"Nightmare, yeah. You could definitely call it that." He said, sliding the sight aid back into its proper place on his face. "What's a borasca?"

"A borasca?" Tom looked at him oddly. "Why are you asking me about the Spanish word for squall?"

"Because I saw the word in my dream; it was painted on a sign hung over a mine shaft."

The confusion remained on the older man's handsome face for a moment longer before a look of realization and understanding passed across it. "With a bit of context it makes more sense. In mining terminology it refers to a mine which has been abandoned, usually because it's underperforming due to running dry collapsing or having otherwise been made too dangerous to continue to use. Might I ask what a mine, abandoned or otherwise, was doing in your dreams?"

Harry shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. But, then again, when do dreams ever make sense?"

Tom hummed, leaving his position at the foot of the bed and crossing to the window instead. "When indeed." He threw the curtains wide and gazed smugly out at the moon, barely visible in the still bright sky. "The full moon will be beautiful tonight." He said, offering no other explanation despite the raven's raised eyebrows. "Come downstairs, my love. Dinner is ready."

"Sounds good; I'm starving." Pausing only long enough to straighten his clothing into something presentable, Harry trotted after Tom back down the stairs and into the kitchen. The brunet had set the table, arranging fine china and positioning a lit candelabra in the center alongside a bottle of wine. Harry raised an eyebrow as the older man walked up behind him, pulling his smaller form against his chest and burying his face in his hair. "Wine?"

"Of course." He purred, squeezing him gently. "Tonight is to be special, as it is a special occasion. So why not splurge a bit on wine, hmm?"

"Why is it a special occasion? What's going on?" Was it Tom's birthday? Was it an early celebration for his own birthday? Was there a holiday which he'd forgotten about? Was there a holiday he'd never heard of before? Maybe something Pagan? The brunet smiled instead of answering and brushed passed him. "Come on, dove. The food it getting cold."

Harry, still brimming with questions, followed him further into the kitchen. Tom both pulled out and pushed in his chair for him. The food was a great deal more elaborate than anything that he'd ever made for him before.

"You didn't have to do this, Tom." Harry said after ten minutes had passed; he'd finished his water but hadn't touched the wine yet.

"I know that I didn't but I wanted to. Tonight is important; you'll see why soon."

"…" aware he'd be getting nothing else out of him Harry sighed. "It's delicious."

"Glad you think so. Drink your wine."

He picked it up and took a drink. The room immediately began to go slightly fuzzy around the edges; people weren't kidding when they said that wine was stronger than beer.

"Can I ask you something, dearest?" the brunet reached across the table, tilting his cup upwards to make him drink again. "Please answer honestly."

"What's wrong?" it was very hard to focus now. The room had started to spin.

"Were I to turn out a monster, would it affect how you feel for me? Would you run screaming or would you still be able to love me?"

"Of course I'd still love you because you'd still be you." His hiccupped, blinked and shook his head in an effort to clear it. This action quickly became one that he regretted as it made him feel worse. "Tom, I-I don't feel so good."

"You'll be alright. Just keep drinking."

His voice was all that he had left to cling to in an ever deepening fog. As he lifted the glass to do as he'd been told his vision caught the thin film of powder floating at the bottom and his sluggish mind clicked over. He raised his head to meet the smirking brunet's ruby gaze.

"You drugged me." Moments later he was lying on the floor, his vision spiraling into black.

The three teenagers were jittery and that did not bode well; it was an hour to midnight, informing them on how to use the weapons they'd be given would take about forty minutes and travel from their meeting point to Hill House where Tomar had made his den would take another ten. Already the night wasn't shaping up to be anything good.

"Have any of you ever used a crossbow before?" all three exchanged a glance which plainly answered the question for them. Snape resisted the urge to sneer. "Have any of you ever used a gun? Rifle? Bow?" Another moment passed before Ron hesitantly raised a hand, going pasty white when his gaze settled on him like stone. Snape all but threw the weapon at the red head; he caught it against his chest on reflex and nearly toppled over.

"A crossbow?" Granger piped up, eyeing the primitive firearm dubiously. "We're going to fight a seven foot tall wolf monster with a piece of equipment from the Middle Ages? Why not a gun? Wouldn't that be better?"

"No," he told her dryly. "The only material that affects his kind at all is silver. And if you knew anything about the compositions and softness of metals you'd be aware of the fact that silver doesn't hold up well when used to make bullets. A lot of Wolf Hunters died while the Order learned that lesson."

He pulled a pair of standard knives from his belt and handed one to each of the girls, along with vials full of an opaque purple liquid.

"Knives: silver. Wolvesbane. Throw it at Ridal should he get too close to you; harmless to humans aside from the fact that it's highly toxic, but will act as a powerful acid to any werewolves which come into contact with it. Hence the name." He said. "Though I doubt you'll find the need to use either of them, as all three of you will be focusing on rescuing your friend and will leave fighting with Ridal to me."

Both girls nodded wordlessly while Ron fiddled with the workings of the crossbow in his hands; the trigger released with a loud twang, the bolt narrowly avoided clipping Snape's shoulder and slammed into the trunk of the tree.

"O-Oh…that's how it fires."

"Weasley!" The boy jumped so badly it was lucky that the crossbow had already gone off. The Wolf Hunters yanked the bolt out of the tree and thrust it back at him. "Are you able to properly handle that weapon without shooting one of us in the back or do I need to give that to your sister instead?"

The boy shook his head. Hopefully he wouldn't end up regretting the decision to leave it with him.

"Spend the next twenty minutes learning to hit what you aim at; hopefully you won't prove too dim to be able to shoot that tree on purpose." He said. "As important as it is to put a stop to Ridal as quickly as possible you'll be of no use unable to use it.

The next twenty minutes passed agonizingly slowly, with the Wolf Hunter alternating between watching the red head attempt to improve his aim while being lectured on technique by the girls and glancing at the clock.

At twenty minutes to midnight and with the sun all but vanished from the sky they began to make their way towards Hill House. They made their way towards Hill House. They made the trek on foot, not wanting to alert the wolf to their arrival with the sound of an approaching engine.

In the dying light Hill House looked more ominous than ever before. There was a candle burning on the sill of the attic window and the wolf's massive truck sat quiet in the driveway. Sitting on the porch, almost as if standing guard was Nagini.

"What are we going to do about Riddle's dog?" Hermione hissed from where they stood just out of sight of the porch. "That thing barks at everything it sees!"

"The only way to get passed her is to kill her."

"Kill her? But she's only an animal! Even if she is vicious and we do need to get passed her I'm not sure that killing an innocent dog is-."

"That, Ms. Granger, is not a dog." Snape told her grimly. "That is the Demon which Tomar invoked for his revenge. And it's anything but innocent. Make yourself useful, Weasley; with any luck you're competent enough to hit the thing."

"F-From here?" Ron had gone from white to green, no doubt for fear of what would happen if he missed.

"If you don't think you can hit it from here, Ron, then move closer; there's a small copse of trees right over there that should give you a good enough angle to hit her." Ginny said, gently pushing her brother forward. "We need to get to Harry; he's alone in there with that monster and God only knows what that thing is doing to him."

The reminder of his best friend's distress seemed to be the spur the red head needed to begin creeping towards the copse of trees, all be it at a near snail's pace. Everything went to shit about half a minute later when he stepped on a fallen branch. The wood shattered and the dog's head snapped around.

Amber eyes caught them a split second before the dog leapt to her feet and, instead of barking or growling and well before any of them could react, let loose with an awful spine-chilling shriek that surely wasn't natural. It were as if total silence fell across the entire town, but that only lasted a brief moment before he black pelt split along her back and fell to the wooden porch with a heavy thump. The creature it revealed resembled a dog only vaguely: its body seemed to be made up entirely of bare muscle and bone, a ridge of spines ran down its back and its paws had been replaced with a fan of curving coal black talons the length of carving knives.

Snape swore viciously and ripped a sword from his belt as the nightmare beast bounded off the porch.

"All three of you stay back!"

Harry jerked awake to a horrible sound which didn't have a place anywhere outside the deepest circles of hell. He tried to jerk upwards from the chair which he'd been propped up in only to nearly topple over. His hands were tied behind his back with thick ropes. His shirt had, at some point prior while he'd been unconscious, been removed.

Tom had drugged him. He was in the attic, the small cramped room lit only by the flickering candles set up around the room and the full moon which spilled in through the dusty window.

"It would seem that we have wedding guests, come to wish us well on this our night of matrimony. How…quaint." His voice was laced with a thick sneer. Caustic in the severity of its derisiveness. "Nagini will take care of them. There's no need for us to concern ourselves."

Harry squinted through the thick gloom, the light spilling through the window directly in front of him-broken up by the branches of the tree just outside-could only do so much for his already terrible vision, and managed to locate Tom standing at a table a couple of feet in front and to the right of him.

Along with the typical scents of dust and dry wood the attic air smelled of numerous herbs and incense. The table was strewn with an assortment of odd objects, chief among them a bowl of hammered gold set in the center of a ritual circle traced in charcoal. Most of Harry's attention was caught by Tom's attire; a wolf pelt was slung across his shoulders, the head pulled over his curls like a frightful hood, and nothing beneath but a pair of deerskin trousers.

"Awake at last, my love? It would seem that I misjudged the dose; modern medicine truly is a fickle thing. It was so much simpler before nature was pushed aside in favor of 'technology' but you and I both know what they say, I'm sure: adapt or die." He said, still not turning towards him. "I'd begun to fear that you'd miss our entire wedding. There's only the final binding left."

He wrenched the athame out of the wood and cut his palm; dark red blood welled and dripped loudly into the bowl, already filled with what he could only guess from the smell was wine. It was only then that he turned and approached him, handsome features set into a coldness which he'd never seen before. Harry was more concerned with the weapon in his hand, the blood still on the blade staining its leading edge a sinister crimson.

"T-Tom." He whimpered, eyes wide as his feet pushed against the flood. A useless scrabble against the old wood in hopes of scooting the chair further away. He'd never been anything but gentle before. Had promised that he wouldn't hurt him. So surely he wasn't about to slit his throat now.

"Shh." He reached out a hand to cup his face; his fingers were longer than they should have been and ended in pointed claws. His features no longer looked quite…right. "Did you not hear me when I told you what I'd do? When I said, just moments ago, what tonight was? I only need a few drops of blood to finish the binding, and then forgiveness for the pain I've no choice but to cause you. You'll hate me for a time but that won't last forever." His hand traveled down the column of his throat; he wasn't certain if the accompanying shudder was from fear or pleasure. "You won't be able to resist your alpha for long, my precious little mate."

All along the monster had been him. Tom Riddle. Tomar Ridal. It all made so much sense and Harry, hissing in pain when the blade cut his hand to drip blood into the bowl, couldn't believe that he hadn't been able to put it together before.

'Were I him, I'd renew the ceremonial marriage and then make you like me. Because then we'd both be immortal and you'd be with me forever; we'd never have to lose each other."

Harry would be lying if he said there wasn't a small part of him that desperately wanted that. To be with Tom forever. Immortal. Young for all eternity. To be cared for by the brunet for the rest of time. To travel the world with him and run with him at night.

But the price was too high. Even if he would be different once the curse took hold, even if resisting meant losing Tom, he wasn't willing to exchange that future for further bloodshed.

Not that there was anything which he could really do to save himself, what with his being tied to a chair at the mercy of a centuries out Werewolf!

Tom tipped his head back and drained half of the bowl of wine and blood. The other half he forced on Harry who swallowed only because he didn't want to risk what the brunet might do to him if he tried to refuse. He chuckled and stroked his cheek again.

"Good boy, my love. You won't have to be tied up much longer." He uncoiled the pelt's front paws from around his neck and tossed it aside as the wrongness of his features became more pronounced. "This will all be over soon."

Harry looked on in horror as he fell to his knees, his legs warping as his heel stretched up towards his knee and his ribcage rounded outwards. The ridges of his spine shifting along with the muscles which slithered beneath his skin. Alabaster flesh split, revealing thick dark fur matted down with a layer of blood.

The most nightmarish part of the transformation was Tom's face, and despite the horror Harry couldn't help but stand transfixed. His ears had sharpened to points and now stuck up from his hair which had gone from immaculate to shaggy and long. It were as if an invisible hand were yanking his jaw outwards, transforming it into a long muzzle filled with teeth. His face finally peeled away, revealing the wolf hidden underneath.

The massive beast rose to its full high and stared down at him with burning eyes and drooling jaws. Harry had never felt so terrified before in his life. His heart was pounding out of his chest as it moved towards him, its hot coarse fur and wiry whiskers brushing against his cheek and ear.

"Hold still. I don't want to hurt you more than I must, little mate."

The raven barely had the time to take a hitching breath before its jaws snapped shut on his shoulder like a bear trap. Incredible pressure registered briefly before its teeth broke his skin and the pressure was replaced by an incredible pain. Harry screamed, his body writhing in a desperate effort to free itself which only wound up hurting him more. Tom snarled low in his massive chest and bit down harder. The window, finagled open with a branch broken off from the tree that she was sitting in, flew open to reveal Ginny on the other side.

"Hey dog breath!" Tom released him and whirled around in time for the vial she'd thrown through the window to break against his muzzle. Glass and droplets of a strong smelling fluid flew in all directions. Tom bellowed in agony, clawing at his face and chest where the fluid had stuck him in an effort to remove it, and barreled clear through the wall disappearing deeper into the house. Ginny was through the window seconds later.

"Harry!" She ran up to him and quickly cut his hands free with the blade in her hands. Not a pocket knife, utility knife or even a hunting knife but rather a dagger. Where the hell had she gotten her hands on that?

"Ginny! What are you doing here? What did you throw at him?"

"I'm here to save you, idiot, and I'm not alone! Ron and Hermione are with me-the twins helped as well-and we've gotten so professional help."

Professional help? Did she mean the Wolf Hunters which Tom had briefly mentioned during his 'story'? "But what did you throw at him?" Had it been acid? He hoped not. Twisted as it was, he still cared to much about the man-beast?-to want him to suffer like that.

"Wolvesbane." Ginny grabbed his hand and began dragging him forwards. "Come on."

He dug his heels into the floorboards and yanked her to a stop. She spun around to glare at him, silently demanding an explanation. "Ginny, no! He went that way!" He must have looked ridiculous, or at the very least a fright, pale as marble and covered in his own blood.

"It's the only way we're getting out of this house, Harry, because you're in no state to be climbing down that tree!"

She was right. He knew that she was right. And he didn't like it but they didn't have a choice.

They bolted out of Hill House at full tilt, nearly tumbling down the stairs, and only narrowly avoided slamming into an unfamiliar man with a beak like nose. His hair was long and lanky and as black as the clothing he wore; a glittering belt of silver blades hung around his hips. In the yard lay a four legged pile of meat which he assumed had once been Nagini.

He caught Harry as he nearly tipped but released him abruptly when he yelled in pain, the fingertips of his leather gloves stained in his blood.

"You've been bitten." A statement, not a question. The answer was obvious and the younger raven didn't bother to address it. The older male didn't seem bothered by this reaction. "The only chance you have is if we kill him quickly."

Without warning the man grabbed him again, pulling him against his chest and pressing the largest dagger on his belt against his throat. Contact with the metal burned like fire but his whine of pain and fear was drowned out by a furious guttural snarl from just out of sight in the darkness. Show yourself, Ridal. Come out or you watch him die again!"

"Spill even a drop of my mate's blood, Snape, and I'll wipe the 'Wolf Hunters' from the face of the earth!"

"Come out!"

Harry's heart had begun to hammer again. This man wasn't really going to kill him, was he? With this…dagger which happened to look exactly like one from his dream, right down to the age clouded stone set into its pommel. He could clearly remember exactly how that narrow hilt had felt clenched in his hand as he'd run towards that mine.

He needed to go there, now. Harry had no idea why but he was suddenly overcome but the undeniable urge to go there. Up that mountain. Into that mine. His body acted before his brain had time to catch up; a massive surge of inhuman strength knocked the man off balance and he wrenched the dagger from his grasp before bolting off the porch.

"Harry!" His name was shouted in five voices; Tom's, his friends' and the Wolf Hunter's. Heavy paws thudded just behind him but he didn't look back, not wanting to see the monster which his lover had revealed himself to be. He threw himself into Tom's truck and slammed the door behind him, locking it with one hand and fumbling for the keys which he knew Tom left in the cup holder with the other. Harry grabbed them and forced them into the ignition, slamming on the accelerator just as Tom landed on the hood with a crash.

The great wolf toppled over with a howl as Harry peeled out of the driveway and onto the street. Driving purely on instinct, hoping that he'd manage to find his ultimate destination. Was Tom still behind him? He had no way of knowing. There was nothing in his rear view mirror but an empty road and his own reflection; spindles of red, like the color of Tom's own eyes, had spiraled out from his pupils and now marred his once emerald irises.

Harry picked up the other object which Tom had developed the habit of leaving in his truck; his cellphone. Without removing his eyes from the road he dialed the familiar number and listened to it ring a few times before the other end was picked up.

"Dad." Damn it all that he was becoming emotional now. Tears blurred his vision as he drove one handed with the dagger pinned to the wheel, a combination of shock and sadness and burning pain.

"Harry? You don't normally call me while I'm at work. Is something-?"

"Please, just listen." Something about his tone must have tipped his father off to the fact that something really was wrong. James repeated his name in a much grimmer tone but said nothing else. Harry quickly pounced on the opportunity and forged onward with his explanation. "Jezt's silver mine. The borasca. I'm headed there now in Tom's truck; I have a knife and I'm almost certain that he's chasing me. I'm going to end this."

"End this? Tom's…a knife? Harry-!"

"I'm sorry. Tell Mom I'm sorry. And Sirius and Remus too. I-I really do love you all I just…I don't have a choice. He's bitten me. I have to stop him. I love you both."

"Harrison-!"

He hung up before his father could say any more and threw the phone out the window when it started to ring. Harry turned left. Then right. Then left again. The road began to slope upwards. Another fifteen minutes passed before he came to where the little road dead ended, narrowing into a steep rocky path which was a familiar as the dagger.

He didn't put the truck in park or bother with turning off the engine and hit the ground running. The raven only made it a handful of paces before the question of whether or not Tom had followed him was answered.

The werewolf exploded from the undergrowth and came tearing up the hill after him, dirt and rock spraying in all directions. Harry had never run so fast before in his life, the shot of pure adrenaline which raced to his legs overcoming the exhaustion and blood loss that had left him weakened.

It was nothing short of a miracle that he didn't trip and fall; if he had the frothing beast on his heels would have caught him for sure.

He could see it now. The sign over the mineshaft which read out that one word. Borasca. Like in his dream the wooden boards gave way at the blow from his body. Like in his dream, the cold heavy air rested against his skin. Like in his dream the decaying pylon spanning the gaping hole loomed from the darkness before him.

He only slowed to a stop once he'd reached the center of the beam, the ancient wound sagging beneath his weight but not breaking. The dagger smarted in his grip; it felt as if he was holding onto a white hot poker but he had to grin and bear it. It was the only weapon that he had. Tom skidded to stop at the edge of the shaft, snarling at him before managing to form words.

"Harrison, drop the dagger. Throw it into the shaft and come back to me."

"No!"

"Harrison, come back to me!"

"Never!"

"You're going to fall!" The wood was emitting low cracks below his feet. Rather than allowing it to frighten him back to the solid ground, and Tom's grasp, he moved further back. The wolf snarled and leapt forward to grab him and pull him to safety but their combined weight was too much for the rotted wood.

It snapped in half and both of them were falling. Tom's howl echoed off the closed in stone walls of the shaft. The frigid air whipped passed him. Harry's fall was broken by a narrow ledge jutting from the wall, saving him from the stone spines which lined the bottom. Unconsciousness rushed in before any pain could truly register.

He didn't know how long he'd spent out cold but when he woke up his entire body felt as if he'd been thoroughly clubbed with a metal bat. Harry felt around for a moment before finding the dagger again and sitting up. Slowly, so as not to further exacerbate his injuries he was sure he had.

"Harrison!" Tom's voice came out as a weak wheeze, laced with obvious pain. It sounded like he'd been calling for a while. "H-Harry! Dove, answer me, please!"

"Tom." His own voice sounded horribly loud in the confined space as Harry peered over the lip of the shallow ledge. "Where are you?"

"Down." Was the strained reply. "Stuck. Help me!"

The raven clenched the blade between his teeth and clambered down the ledge as best he could, cautious to avoid the numerous stalagmites which came up to almost the center of his chest. Tom had not been so lucky as Harry with his landing. He'd shifted back into his human form, and the stalagmite which had pierced his stomach was coated in blood. His eyes were wide and desperate, pleading with him for help.

"Little mate." Dark red blood welled between his lips when he spoke, misting his chin and trickling down his cheek. "Please."

"Tom." He knelt beside him, struggling to steel himself against the desire to pull him free of the stone and the empathy for his pain as he reached out to cup his face. "I'm sorry, but this has to end Tom. This has to end."

"Did you lie to me, little mate?" one of his shaking hands reached up to clasp his own. His palm was cold and slick with blood. "You told me that the truth would change nothing. That you wouldn't stop loving me if you knew."

"I did say that. And I didn't lie to you because I won't. I'll never stop loving you Tom." Harry said. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to stop you."

He gripped the dagger in both hands, gritting his teeth against the pain from the metal. The silver blade glinted in the low light as he raised it over his head.

"Harry." Tom's voice was barely audible now as the ore laced spine sucked the strength from his body. He tried to push against his arms but was too weak to keep him at bay; he knew it. There was as much resignation on his face as fear. "Little mate, please! Don't do this!"

Tom choked as the dagger sank into his chest, arms falling heavy to the shaft's stone floor and his eyes rolling back into his head. Revealing the white behind the red. After almost three thousand years, his curse had finally come to an end.

Harry had to brace himself against his cooling body to pull the dagger free. The point was slicked in blood as it rest against his own chest, sharp enough to break the skin with only the slightest pressure.

"I'm right behind you."

They'd only made it a mile on foot in the direction they thought Harry had gone before James had showed up, the lights of his cruiser chasing the darkness from the street. They'd piled in and set out after the raven, his father demanding information from anyone and everyone as they drove in between explanations of his own. That Harry had called him. Had told him where he was going and why. He was panicked, that was clear, in the way that only a father could be.

The half hour drive up to the mine was incredibly tense. They expected to find the area outside the mine deserted, or at the very most occupied by Harry and Tom, but what they found instead was a young woman in a silver dress who had seated herself in the bed of his truck, her bare feet hanging over the side. Her hair was long and pale blonde in color and her eyes were large and blue. Perhaps the oddest thing about her was the fact that she was accompanied by a pair of massive wolves; a black one whose head rested in her lap like a tame dog, peaceably accepting her stroking hand, and a brown one which snorted at them as they approached.

The black wolf whined and the woman reached back to tug gently on its scruff. "The Gulping Plimpies I had following you have made sure I knew exactly what you were up to, Tomar. You've caused them enough trouble for a life time; they don't mean Harry any harm."

The shock of the sight of her had left the mall stunned; Severus was the first to recover, eyeing the wolves and the woman with a pointed caution. If she noticed she didn't seem bothered by it; her dreamy expression didn't falter and she removed her hand from the brown wolf's pelt to push her hair back over one pointed shoulder.

"Might I ask who you are and just what it is you think that you're doing out here?"

"What am I doing out here? Not much of anything, really. I just came to collect the Alpha and his mate; he's been gone for a very long time-a Demon used his pain to blind him-and his mate left to find him after he couldn't take waiting any more. He's needed back at White Paw Wash; the pack has missed them both." The smaller black wolf leaped up into the bed of the truck and slipped passed her to press closer to the other. The brown wolf immediately adhered itself to the other, tucking its smaller form against its side. "As for who I am, I've had a lot of names throughout the ages. Most of those have been forgotten now. You can just call me Luna, if you'd like."

"Luna." James repeated, finding his voice but still seeming bewildered. He was staring at the pair of green eyes which peeked out at them from behind the brown wolf's back. "I…wolves…my son…?"

"Oh, these two aren't wolves exactly. That's just the form they think they have. Or wish to have. One of the two. They can change it if they like but I think they're happy like this for now." Her dreamy expression didn't falter in the slightest as she scratched behind both their ears. "I'll be leaving with them now; it's been too long already since they've been home." Luna slid out of the bed of the truck and brushed the dust and wrinkles off the skirt of her dress. "You'll find them up in the mine; you should leave them together though. It's important mates not be parted. Also, do mind the Wrackspurts; they seem to have developed a horrible infestation of them up in the rotting wood in the mine. And do remember that just because someone is dead doesn't mean they're gone; it's more of a beginning than an end."

Humming softly under her breathe Luna skipped away into the dark trees, the two wolves following behind her. The black wolf looked back at them once before disappearing.

Little time was spared standing there after the trio had vanished from sight. The little group scrambled up the hill and the two adults rushed into the unstable shaft of the abandoned mine. Their progress ended when the earth opened up into another, vertical shaft. Not that they needed to go any further. Their search for the pair came to an end at the bottom of the shaft; Tom, impaled on one of the stalagmites, lay in a pool of blood with Harry slumped across his chest, the glittering blade of the dagger he'd stolen protruding from his side.

There was a quiet splash as James' knees hit the flood, his head falling into his hands. Snape stared down at the scene below without expression: Tomar was finally slain, Harrison was dead as well and Dumbledore had gotten what he wanted. And now, almost certainly, any attempts at retrieving one or both of the bodies would end in failure.

It seemed an eternity before the other man finally brought himself to return to his feet, trudging out of the mine and back down towards the cruiser to use the radio inside. He watched the three teens follow him, asking questions that went unanswered before finally resigning themselves to standing by and drawing comfort from each other. It was almost dawn, now, and his work in Alaska was finished.

With one last brief glance at the mine which had become a monster's tomb Snape turned and started back down the road.