Mark of the Beast -Drarry-Ch7

The success at the match had led to Harry being officially welcomed to the Slytherins. To them the former lion had always been one of them, a snake in lion's clothes, and Harry agreed with them, at least he partially did. While he truly believed that he belonged with the Slytherins, at heart he knew that he would always be a Gryffindor, regardless of what they thought of him. However, at that moment in time he was disgusted with the entire house for how drastically they had turned against him, how hostile they could be. Harry Had thought that nothing could destroy his friendships and loyalty to those in the house, and after what had happened? He wondered if Godric Gryffindor would be rolling around in his grave at how the members of his noble house were behaving.

But the Slytherins welcomed him with open arms. They made him feel like he was one of them, and the more time he spent with them, the more he realized how much in common that they actually shared. Some of them had home lives that were just as difficult as he had growing up, something that they only shared with Harry after he had snapped at them for their poor treatment of the house-elves. Others, like Blaise, seemed to only hate muggle borns in public, when behind closed doors they would admit that the muggle borns had every right to be at Hogwarts. The Slytherins kept making Harry curious, wondering what else he had been wrong about. Yet the one person he was at least trying to be friends with, never talked to him about anything personal. In fact, no one seemed to know much about Draco Malfoy other than he did what he had to do to make his father proud, and that he was shagging Pansy Parkinson, as well as half of the other sixth and seventh year Slytherins. To Harry, Malfoy remained a completely mystery.

Despite how at home he felt with the snakes, there were times when he just had to get away from them all, when he needed so desperately to just think and be alone. He always would go to the same place, the old greenhouse. At one point they had been told not to go there, that it was infested with salamanders, but the fire creatures always left him alone. Salamanders could apparently tell that he was not human, that he was something to be feared and they stayed away. It made the perfect hiding spot for him. The walls around him sparkled in the afternoon sun, though it was only the parts of the glass that weren't covered with vines that glowed. The rest of the interior looked like something from a spooky haunted house; run down, old, overgrown, unloved and forgotten. He would sit among the plants that grew wild within the walls, and savor the silence, the escape from the hellish reality that had become his life. Everyone told him things would get better, kept telling him that. He never believed them; they didn't have a monster trapped inside their mind. But as much as he loved the silence, something would always happen to ruin his peace and quiet.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" And it was Neville that had interrupted him. His eyes fell on Neville's figure and gave him a rather blank stare in the hope that if he said nothing, that Neville would go away. "You all right? You're a bit pale…" Neville sounded worried, and that surprised harry. He had been so sure that they all hated him.

"M'fine Neville," Harry muttered as he got back to his feet, brushing off his pants absentmindedly. "Was just thinking, that's all."

That only seemed to worry Neville more. "But the salamanders-"

"Don't' like werewolves," Harry snapped at him. When he saw the hurt look in Neville's eyes he sighed. "Neville, look I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just I haven't had much like with…them."

The Gryffindor shrugged, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, seeming to be thinking over what exactly he should say. "It's okay. You just don't trust us. It makes sense, I guess. Cause of Ron and what he was saying…"

Harry felt his blood run cold as Neville continued to ramble on about what exactly Ron had been saying; that it was all Harry's fault, that he was the reason that Ginny was dead. That he had led her to her death. No wonder the entire house wanted to kill him…

"Not everyone believes him Harry. The younger ones yes, but some don't. Dean and Seamus think he's full of crap, but since we gotta live with him, they just pretend. Hermione, we don't' even see her much anymore. She refuses to take a side."

"Least I know who my real friends are…" Harry replied bitterly, his eyes on the ground as he began to make his way out of the old greenhouse. "And you? What do you think?" he asked, looking over his shoulder Neville as the other male followed him out.

"You're still my friend. Things happen." Neville paused. "Do they treat you okay? The Slytherins? They seem to like you, but…"

Harry knew that Neville was not at all fond of the Slytherins, and was completely afraid of Snape (though Harry did agree that Snape could be rather scary). It made him smile, however, that Neville had the heart enough to ask him. "They act like how we all used to, like how friends should act."

A small smile formed on Neville's lips. "Least when they're around, Ron doesn't try to do anything completely idiotic."

"That's true…"

There was a pause in which they said nothing, only the sound of the water lapping against the shore of the lake could be heard. The students were all inside as the weather was slowly growing colder by the day. "Hermione wants to see you…"

And there it was, the real reason why Neville was talking to him, it was for Hermione. "I dunno Neville…" Harry said cautiously, frowning with uncertainty.

"I-I just, forget it. I need to get back to class. Professor Sprout sent me to see who was in here." Neville started to walk away. "I'll see you around harry." And then Neville was gone, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

Hermione wanted to see him, and that alone made his stomach churn with unease and fear. He knew that, while Neville said she refused to take sides, she cared more about Ron than se ever had for him. It had been easy enough for him to see that much. Whether or not his suspicions remained the same, whether or not he could still tell that she loved Ron, or if she even still liked him, he didn't know, so much had happened since the start of school just over two months ago. Harry had only seen her in one or two of the classes that they shared, and to him she looked completely exhausted. Kind of how one other person he knew looked more and more often. Something had to be trouble Lupin, though even during his third year the werewolf seemed to be tired. Harry wanted to know why, his damn curiosity driving the desire of his to know what was going on, to be involved. If anything, perhaps that would help him to feel normal…
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"Hello Remus…" The werewolf froze at his desk for a split second, unable to remember if he had heard someone enter his office, before he actually registered whom the owner of that voice was. His gaze drifted up from the paper he was grading to land on the black clothed form of Severus. "There's someone here who wants to see you…" The man sounded tired, but before Remus could inquire as to who it was, the Potions master stepped aside to reveal a large gray wolf standing there.

A grin broke out over Remus's face as he stood up, watching the wolf trot into the room, followed by Severus. The door closed, Remus stepped from behind the desk and the wolf turned into a man. He was wearing well worn robes beneath which lay the scars typical of the creature that they both were. Dark brown hair streaked with a few strands of gray peppered his hair that was tangled, dirty, and probably had not been washed in a good long while. But none of that matter to Remus as he wrapped his arms around the man and hugged him close. "Hello Romulus…" he whispered as his twin hugged him back in a very strong embrace. He smelled of the forest, of the wild life he led with Greyback's pack, which he was only a part of by command of the Order.

"Remus. Back at school again it would see," Romulus replied, stepping back to get a better look at his twin brother. "We do need to make an effort to see more of each other…" To which Remus nodded his agreement. "I wish I could say this was a social visit but this matter is actually of grave importance… Remember when you told me of the story that could possibly bring back the dead? How we would need the philosopher's stone to do it again?"

Remus's eyes flickered from his brother's face to Snape's, then back again. "I remember, what about it?"

"Fenrir Greyback has it. If we can get it…"

"Then we can…" Remus's breath caught in his throat. If they could bring back the dead…if they could restore life to someone…repair a soul… If it could work…if it was possible… "I'll go get Dumbledore."

"No you'll have to tell him. I'll need you there with me, at the pack Remus. I need to head back but, promise me you will tell him."

"I promise."

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"I don't think you should go. It's pure insanity!" Sirius barked out angrily, flat out glaring at all the people present in the room. Snape was sitting in a chair by Dumbledore's desk, Remus stood by Sirius near one of the many book cases in the office with his fingers wrapped around Sirius's wrist in an effort to keep him calm. A cloaked figure stood by the window, a woman with short brunette hair, and Dumbledore himself made up the rest of the group present in the room. His anger was from the completely insane suggesting from Snape and Remus about what he thought Remus should go do. "Greyback would eat him completely alive!."

"Bullshit," said the short haired woman, leaning against the wall. "You're blinded by love for Remus not to see the obvious. If Greyback does have the-"

"Oh you're one to talk Riley. You fled back to the States when Lily and James were ki-" He didn't get a chance to finish, the glare that she sent him shut him up and stopped his words. "It's not safe Albus." Perhaps the headmaster would see some sort of reason…

"Remus would be perfectly fine Sirius. While Fenrir is cruel, the pack's beta is on our side. The one raised by wolves will rule the land, but shall fail without help from his other half. Remus is a part of an age old myth, a legend."

"One in which Romulus kills Remus," Sirius muttered darkly.

Snape scoffed, shaking his head. "We need the remaining part of the Philosopher's stone if our plane is to work."

"Don't care get someone else."

"Padfoot…" Remus said in his normally cam voice. "I have to do this…There is no one else who could. It has to be me…" The werewolf looked up at Sirius with almost pleading eyes. "I'm going regardless of what you think…"

Sirius again shook his head, but before he could reply, the cloaked figure cleared his throat. "He will be kept safe, do not worry. The end result will be worth it…" The man's voice sounded incredibly hoarse, almost like it would hurt to talk, that he hadn't spoken in a very long time.

That did not stop Sirius. "Like hell it will be. This plan." His glaring dark eyes darted to Dumbledore. "You're plan. Bring together the stone of life, the stone of death, and the ring of the white stag to have the dead live again? That sounds like something from a child's tale!"

"Sirius…" Dumbledore tried.

"It's not safe. Greback has always wanted both of them in the pack. Once he has him, Remus will never get back out. It's a death sentence!"

"Sirius stop for a-"

"Don't you start too Moony, not when it was your brother who suggested this! Surely you can see that this is madness!" He was beginning to get increasingly desperate, the overwhelming desperation reflecting in his eyes. "There's no proof that it will work."

"You want proof Pdfoot?" The room went silent, the voice that had once been hoarse was strong, clear, and familiar to all those who were apart of the 1978 Hogwarts graduating class. Sirius knew that voice, a voice that he had not heard in over a decade, but he did not dare turn around. He could see the look of complete shock on Remus's face, heard the small gasp from Snape. "Here's your proof."

I know that voice…but it can't be true…

"Look at me Sirius." Sirius slowly turned to face the speaker whose face had once been hidden by the hood of the black cloak.

I know that face…

The figure had brown-black unruly hair, sparkling mischievous eyes set behind a pair of black frame glasses, and the unmistakable smirk. "I'm no ghost, I'm real. I'm alive."

It can't be…

"Oh come on Padfoot aren't you going to say hello to your best mate?"

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out as the figure approached him. "Okay we'll start fresh then." The other man stuck out his hand.

Hesitantly Sirius took his hand, and shook it. "Hello…" he managed to get out. "I'm Sirius Black…"

"Hello Sirius. My name is James Potter, but you can call me Prongs."