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WARNING: This is a slash story, which means it contains male/male erotic content involving consenting adults. If you're not of legal age or are offended by such material, please go find something else to read.

Title: The Last Night
Author: Jemisard
E-Mail: jemisard@internode.on.net
Rating: PG
Summary: Injured and alone, Severus is trapped outside and there's something out there looking for him.
Warnings: A bit of violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own them, and everyone is fully aware of that. If I did I would be a lot richer than I actually am and have no need to be writing fan-fiction.

 

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Two wars were two too many for any lifetime.

Severus dragged himself to the shelter of the forest, his bloodied hand loosely gripping his wand as he pulled himself by the other one.

He propped himself against a tree and leant back, relaxing into the hard wood. He rummaged in his bag for the potion supply he had been taking to the front line.

The attack had been well organised. The leak in their information had been dealt with too late. The three of them had been hit two days ago.

He didn't know what had happened to Granger or Malfoy. They had split up to try and escape through the lines.

He shivered and pulled his cloak around him tighter. The sun had set.

He looked up, the moon was already overhead. It was swollen, heavy, bloated in the night sky.

There was a distant howl.

He pulled out the flasks he had been carrying. Two healing potions, several salves and the dark bottle of the Wolfsbane potion.

It wouldn't have been an issue, except that Lupin's bottle had been destroyed in an enemy raid on his camp. Severus had been bringing the emergency supply.

He drank one of the healing potions and carefully tucked all the bottles back into his bag. The empty bottle would stay, it stopped the other flasks from clanging against one another when he moved.

He lay down, curling up on his side. He'd only managed to get himself a few hundred metres from the cliff face, but he hoped that the few dark wizards left up there were busy trying to get their pet Graphorn back under control.

The horn wound through his back was healing, uncomfortably, but he would live. His legs were numb, he would probably need a medi wizard to regain any feeling in them.

Provided he made it through the night.

He smiled bitterly.

He must have passed out. He had no memory of going to sleep, so it was probably shock.

Certainly, he was freezing cold, trembling violently and in horrendous amounts of pain. It would account for a lot.

He heard another howl. It was closer now, disturbingly close. He prayed it wasn't Lupin.

He chuckled slightly.

He didn't want to put Lupin through the agonising over eating his old classmate. Though, if he had to pick a werewolf to eat him, maybe Lupin would be best.

He started laughing harder, covering his mouth his hands to stifle the hysterics.

The only way he had always wished not to die, was at the teeth of a werewolf. Since he was sixteen, it had been his greatest nightmare.

He pulled out the other healing potion and awkwardly drank some of it, keeping the rest for later. Prolonged exposure to smaller amounts would probably help better, give more time for the wounds to try and heal.

He tucked the bag under his head, staring out into the darkness. The howling had stopped, the silence was far worse though. He had no idea where it was or what it was doing.

That was far more frightening that anything else he could have been confronted with. Wondering.

He was trying to stay quiet, slow breath, slow movements. Nothing to give him away. His cloak was enchanted to provide a level of camouflage, but it would not fool the werewolf's nose if it caught his scent.

Realisation dawned on him. He blamed the shock for slowing his thinking down.

The blood trail would lead straight back to him. He had left enough blood behind to tell any werewolf within a mile where he was.

His hands were numb. He was struggling to hold onto his wand, but he pulled it to his chest and cradled his injured hand with his frozen, but undamaged, one.

The moon was still in the sky, still there for a while yet. Daybreak was nowhere in the foreseeable future for him.

He fell asleep watching his breath puff in front of him.

He woke up when he heard explosions. Distant, far away from where he was, but large enough to light up the sky even here. Reds and blues exploding, green splattering into the dark purple.

The main fronts must have finally clashed.

He sighed and shifted ever so slightly. He had always wanted to be there when they confronted each other, see how it went down. He was certain that Lupin would have wanted to be there, to wrap his hands around Pettigrew's neck...

Or maybe not. Lupin wasn't the sort for violence. Not unless it was a night like this. He'd probably forgive Voldemort if he thought he could change.

Maybe he was trying to forgive the world since he couldn't forgive himself.

He scowled angrily. He did not want to be having insights into Lupin's behaviour or mind, and certainly not when it seemed like he was going to die that night at the man's claws.

Stupid Lupin. Stupid, forgiving Lupin.

There was a howl, it cut through the air the same way it cut through his bones.

It was close, and it had caught a scent. He had heard that howl twice before in his life. Once only four years ago, once in his childhood.

It was hunting.

He looked up at the pine he was curled next to. If his legs were working, he could scrambled up there. Werewolves were excellent hunters, but terrible climbers, like any dog. It would have circled and paced until it got bored and gave up or the sun came up.

No use thinking on what ifs. It wouldn't help him now.

He couldn't even get the bag open, his fingers were too numb. The blood had stuck his wand to his hand, he hoped it would suffice.

Merlin, he hoped it didn't find him. He'd be lucky not to blow himself up trying to bring down the creature.

He struggled to sit up, leant against the tree. He would not die curled up like an infant, too scared to move.

Twigs snapped to his side. His eyes slanted sideways, his head slowly followed.

It watched him, mouth open, tongue hanging between razor sharp teeth. It flexed its claws, its head tipped to look at him with bright amber eyes.

His heart caught in his throat.

It paced forwards a few steps. It took a few seconds for him to realise it was trying to work out if he was still alive. The amount of blood on the ground was confusing its senses, his movement hadn't been noticed.

It stepped into the moonlight. Its fur was a pale brown, shot with streaks of grey that were silver in the moonlight.

His stomach clenched, and pain erupted through his back. He tried to control his reaction, instead falling to his side again, his traitorous wand coming free from the blood as he tried to catch himself on the ground.

Lupin blinked and walked closer. There was no way he could mistake that fur and those bright eyes as any other werewolf.

He closed his eyes and waited for the snarl and snap. He hoped it would be quick and final.

A wet nose nuzzled his face and a wet tongue licked over his face. He shivered and tried to pull away, but something in his back clicked and instead he found his vision collapsing in on itself, the wickedly curved talons on Lupin's front paw the last thing he saw.

Severus opened his eyes. The painful cold was gone, he could feel the pain in his right hand now.

It was still dark, but the moon was nearer the horizon and larger than ever.

The memory rushed back. Lupin, stalking him, before he passed out the thing had licked his face.

He became aware of something else. Warmth against his back. Fearfully, he twisted as much as he could to look behind him.

Sleepy amber eyes blinked at him and the huge snout pushed his face. He felt fear rush through him but the snap never came. The jaws stayed firmly closed except to let a tiny whimper escape, such a ridiculous sound for such a huge monster.

The fear was still there, but Severus was getting increasingly curious. What was Lupin up to? Maybe he had managed to scrounge up a potion from somewhere.

He looked into its eyes. There was no intelligence there, nothing human anyway.

It growled. He immediately looked away and to his wand, but a heavy paw came down on him and held him where he was.

Dear gods, Lupin thought he had been initiating a challenge for leadership. He looked back, careful to keep his eyes averted.

He was 'rewarded' by a wet tongue licking his face and neck and the massive form cuddling closer to him. The thick pelt was soft where it brushed his skin, he could even feel the warmth through his cloak, the muscled bulk blocking the wind from getting in through the tears in his clothing.

A fur covered cheek butted his, he lay down, his head pillowed on one foreleg. Lupin whimpered again and rubbed their cheeks together.

He was being marked. How charming.

Still, it was preferable to the way normal way dogs marked property.

He dimly noticed that the wolf, no, werewolf; he should keep hs mind sharp about these things, the thing was still a potential killer; was nosing through his bag. His snout barely fit but he managed to pulled out the three flasks, sniffing disdainfully at the black bottle of Wolfsbane.

No one had never seen how a werewolf would react to the potentially poisonous mixture. He was about to make history.

Lupin nosed it for a while, pausing only to sniff at the prone man before it moved back again.

Maybe it could smell the potion on him. Or him on the bottle.

Lupin gave up after a few minutes and settled down, nuzzling at Severus' neck for a few moments before lying still.

Severus could feel the deep slow breaths against his back. He waited until the evened out further, slowed down to the regular pattern of sleep.

He had no idea what had happened. The explosions had stopped, so the battle was over, for better or worse.

He hoped they'd won. Or, if they had lost, he hoped he didn't wake up. He wouldn't mind dying in his sleep, warm and feeling safe, even if he was really far from it.

He had no idea why Lupin hadn't attacked him. He was by no means himself, but nor did he seem to be in the throes of moon madness.

Or, he thought as he dozed off, maybe Lupin had somehow known him.

Third time's a charm and all that.

 

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