The Wolf Song

The Wolf Song

You will never be strong enough
They'll never see
I'll never be
I'll struggle on and on to feed this hunger
Burning deep inside of me
-Evanescence, Lies

Remus woke with the taste of blood on his tongue, and a fiery brand along his ribs, in a hand shaped patch. He groaned, memory of the night before flooding his mind as he stood, wobbling slightly on his feet. He was drenched in blood, and around him, sprawling or curled in whatever position they'd felt most comfortable in, were the others who had travelled with him for the last two years. He closed his eyes in pain, wishing it hadn't come to this. But it had, and he could only do what he could to protect his friends.

There was a moan as Sirius stirred, his lover looking up at him with blurry eyes. Remus had never figured out how his friend had survived, and Sirius was very close-lipped about it, refusing to tell anyone what had happened. The black-haired animagus stood slowly, reaching out to steady himself against the post of a bed that was rarely used when he swayed. Remus slid one shoulder under his arm, and the two picked their way out of the unconscious bodies of the other members of the pack of werewolves, making their way out to the other room, where another black-haired wizard waited, one eyebrow raised.

Severus said nothing, merely held up a steaming pot, and Remus nodded, reaching for the mug of tea as soon as it was filled, collapsing into a chair at the table, Sirius doing the same beside him. He indicated the carafe of coffee that also waited on the table, and Severus shoved it over, along with a mug. The three men sat in silence for a few moments, sipping at their drinks, before Severus's quiet voice broke the silence.

"He's dead?" There was no need to supply a name, they all knew who was being spoke of.

"Very." Sirius responded, his blue eyes a turbulent mix of sorrow and anger and regret. He stared into his coffee, silent once again, the atmosphere in the room one of unspoken and unshared tension, broken only with the purposely audible yawn from the brown-haired, amber-eyed young woman who leaned against the door frame to the main bedroom of the small cottage.

"Morning." Hermione came forward, pouring herself a mug of the tea, wrinkling her nose at the coffee in the mug Severus held as she took her seat next to him. "You and Sirius, and Ron... what do you see in that stuff?"

"Caffeine." That response from the third male in question as he staggered forth. It was the sign that most of the others were probably well on their way back from dreamland that he was awake. He closed his hands greedily around the mug that Severus floated in his direction, sucking the drink down black, stumbling towards the table, holding the mug out for more as he arrived.

Hermione rolled her eyes, filling it this time, patting the seat next to her, kissing her fiance as he took the hint and sat down. They were waiting for the other three of their small group to join them, and it was a little while longer before they did, Ginny glaring at anyone who looked like they would say anything, Neville looking a bit hungover, and Lenaria collapsing into Severus's lap with a sigh. She hadn't emerged from the main bedroom, but the one across from it, as she was, like Sirius, an animagus, not a werewolf.

A smile twitched at Remus's lips as he watched Severus and Lenaria. No one had known the dour man was married, and had been for the last fifteen years. Except, perhaps, Albus. But if he had, he'd never let on, and no one had thought to find out if Severus's raven was anything but what it appeared to be.

"Who's going to tell Albus his golden boy is dead?" Lenaria looked over the drooping mages, an eyebrow cocked in question. "That is, if he understands what he is being told." A grown emerged from half a dozen throats, and she held up her hands in surrender. "My apologies."

The fact that Albus had been in a magical coma for the last three years, with no signs of ever coming out of it was a sore subject with a majority of those gathered around the table. It was suspected that Harry had been at fault - shortly after Albus was attacked, he'd killed Voldemort, not to defeat evil, but to take his place. No one knew what had happened to him, and no one cared to ask

"I will." Remus spoke quietly, standing, and heading back to the main bedroom. Through another doorway was his closet, and he pulled out another set of robes, changing for the trip to Hogwarts. Poppy and Minerva both had refused to send him to St. Mungo's. It would have been far too easy to kill him there in his state.

Sirius came up behind him, the other wizard wrapping strong arms around his waist. "You want me to come with you, Remmy?" His voice was soft in Remus's ear, and he leaned back into the warmth the other man provided.

"No, Siri. I can do this by myself. But don't you go anywhere before I get back." His brown eyes met Sirius's blue a moment, and his lover nodded in understanding. Remus would not let the outside world see him hurt because of this, but he would not be so unwilling to weep around his own.