Harry Potter, Wolf Among Us 1. I Saw a New Earth

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Wolf Among Us, or Fables, the comic upon which that game is based. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

This is in response to the challenge issued by speedster101. (viewable here: i1225 (d-o-t) photobucket (d-o-t) c-o-m/albums/ee385/RogueMudblood/Permissions/speedster101_zps12468bd9 (d-o-t) p-n-g)

_**Things you need to know:**_

This is not "Harry Potter Redux" or "Harry Potter, the Wolf Among Us Remix". This is a "what if" story, and what you think will/might happen won't if you're just looking for JKR's story. I'm **not** posting her work, I'm posting mine. _If that's an issue for you, the back button is in the upper left corner, the "X" is in the upper right. Either will navigate you away from this page._

There may be themes in this story that make you uncomfortable. I'm not going to saunter – or even stray – into MA territory, but the M rating is there because there are some topics that will come up that aren't appropriate for K-T readers.

Lastly, this deals with the game, not the Fables comic series. Events of that series aren't included if they happened after the game storyline.

* * *

Bigby Wolf was not known for his patience. He had never been accused of having a gentle temperament. No one who knew him – or knew of him – would be at all surprised to find him in Tottenham. He watched the life going on around him in disgust, lighting up his fifteenth cigarette as he leaned against a wall. The part he hated the most about leaving Fabletown to communicate with one of his contacts was the _waiting_.

He would normally have trusted this exercise to one of his subordinates. The falling out he had with the only woman whom he had ever loved had, however, given him an excuse to jump at the opportunity to investigate this situation himself. Standing in the midst of the scent of sex, Bigby had been chain-smoking for the last half hour. He had already seen two prostitutes taking their marks down a side alley. The woman had smelled of too many men when she passed, and his nose had wrinkled reflexively. The male prostitute had smelled of fear. The interactions of mundies, however, were not his concern.

The sound of a car screeching to a halt at the curb roused him from his musings. A tall, rotund man waddled out of one side of the vehicle, rounding it more rapidly than Bigby would have thought he could move. He wrenched the door open violently, dragging a boy appearing no more than five years old from the car. The minute he did, Bigby had to fight to suppress a growl.

One glance at the boy would let anyone know that he was malnourished. Even in the dim light from the distant streetlamp, Bigby was able to clearly count the boys' ribs through his shirt. Tear tracks were visible on his young face. The wolf could conceive of no reason why such a young child would be brought to Tottenham at night. Throwing his cigarette onto the sidewalk, he stubbed the butt out with the toe of his boot. His enhanced hearing allowed him to hear the boy's whispered pleas clearly. Snarling, the large man fisted the boy's shirt in his hand, pulling the tiny child close to his face. Bigby credited the youth's obviously poor condition for the man's ability to lift the boy so effortlessly.

"P-please, Uncle Vernon..." The boy was wheezing as he pleaded with the grotesquely obese man.

"No, you putrid little boy! Your aunt and I took you in out of the goodness of our hearts. We gave you a room to stay in." Spittle flew from the man's mouth as he shook the boy's rather limp form in his fist. "As far as I'm concerned, you deserve whatever you get here in this neighborhood!" Without bothering to lower his arm an inch, he loosened his grip, dropping the boy to the sidewalk. The crunch of the bone snapping in the boy's right arm as he landed on it echoed in Bigby's ears. The wolf's growl was clearly audible, his eyes glowing from the shadows. The boy looked up as Bigby stepped forward, fear written in every inch of his form.

The large man snarled at the boy, yelling at him to lift himself off the sidewalk. Despite the blood soaking into his shirt, the child rose slowly, fresh tears dripping from his eyes. Scenting the air, the wolf could clearly smell the urine soaking the boy's pants. He took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. Wind rushed quickly past them down the street, nearly knocking the child from his feet. The large man's hair was pushed back from his rotund face allowing Bigby to view him clearly. His flaring nostrils reminded the wolf of the pigs he had terrorized back in the Homelands.

Though he was a tough man, Bigby was not someone who took joy in the suffering of children. While he would normally have simply let the mundanes handle their own problems, this boy was _far_ from being mundane and seemed unaware of that fact, which intrigued the wolf. The more Bigby considered the possible injuries inflicted on the boy by the grotesquely obese mundy before him, the more menacing his countenance became.

His eyes glowed, causing the boy to gulp audibly. Seeing the boy's quivering, Vernon raised his hand to strike him. Bigby caught the wrist before it could even come close to the child. His grip on the joint was crushing. As he pulled the bones of Vernon's forearm in separate directions, Bigby was almost certain that he could hear the ligaments tearing. The large man's chin wobbling and the wince he tried to hide brought a feral grin to the wolf's lips.

Though the shadows largely hid Bigby's face, his teeth gleamed brightly in the light when he finally chose to speak. "I take it you've no further use for the boy then." Vernon shook his head, the rapid movement causing the odor of his sweat to reach the wolf's sensitive nostrils. Wrinkling his nose, Bigby leaned in closer. "Then let me have him."

A whimper from the boy greeted them both. Keeping the child in sight, Bigby moved so that he was between the pair. Despite the scent of fear which rolled off Vernon, the rotund man proceeded to attempt to bargain with the wolf. "Interested, eh? What are you willing to give me for him?"

Snarling, Bigby leaned forward, spittle falling from his teeth as he gnashed them. "How about I let you walk out of here without doing you any more damage?"

Vernon gulped. "Th-that sounds fair." When Bigby released the large man's wrist after twisting the bones unnaturally once more, the wolf stepped back, allowing Vernon to rush to his car. The engine choked and gasped, as though protesting its owner's presence, before finally turning over and revving to life. Squealing echoed from the buildings as the tires screeched against the pavement. Bigby turned his back on the inept mundane, his attention focused on the child lying on the sidewalk. Before he could take a moment to try and console the shuddering boy, his contact finally arrived.

"Shite. He's just a tiny one, yeah?" The sound of a match being struck reached Bigby's ears a moment before the scent of a cheap cigar reached his nose, vying for dominance over the odor of the urine emanating from the boy. "An' he passes, yeah?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the wolf turned to see the haggard looking man. One hand in his pocket, the man calmly pulled the cigar from his mouth, exhaling the smoke in a tight stream. He shrugged the trench coat from his shoulders, pulling his hand from his pocket to catch it before passing it to Bigby. The wolf raised an eyebrow. "For the boy, you arse."

Reigning in his temper, the wolf slowly let his breath hiss between his teeth before snatching the garment. A bitterly chill wind blew down the street, causing the man standing before Bigby to shiver. Turning from him, the wolf found the boy, eyes wide with terror, staring at him. His teeth were chattering, his limbs were shaking, and even though he grimaced with each tiny movement of his emaciated body, the child was determined to try to get away from the wolf. Another sigh from Bigby caused another cold breeze to blow through the street.

"You keep blowing air through here like that, you're going to freeze the boy to the sidewalk." Crouching down, he stared at the child. "Oy. Boy. What's yer name?" Green eyes stared back at him while the child tried to force his lips closed over his chattering teeth. Bigby blocked his view of the boy, wrapping the coat around the tiny shivering form, lifting the child from the sidewalk.

The acrid scent of fear flooded the wolf's nose, making him flare his nostrils as he tried to expel the odor. His contact merely smirked at him before getting the boy's attention. "He's not going to hurt you." Though the boy's facial muscles were completely void of reaction, his eyes were incredibly expressive. The child's incredulity could clearly be seen for the brief moment before he ducked his head. Bigby glared at his contact as the man began chuckling.

Still sniggering, he began to lead the wolf out of the main area of Tottenham into an area hidden from mundane eyes. The boy shuddered heavily as they passed through the invisible demarcation. Bigby's grip on the child tightened until the shaking subsided. The residents of London's version of Fabletown looked askance at the group as they passed by. Most gave the wolf a wide berth, his human form not capable of disguising him from their senses. One woman tried to approach the group, her eyes fixed on the boy in Bigby's arms. No longer in an environment where he needed to hold back, the wolf allowed a loud growl to sound clearly. It had the desired effect, scaring the woman back, though her gaze did not waver from the boy until the group turned the corner.

After walking through several of the darkened streets and back alleys of the undeniably poorer part of the town, they finally arrived at a building that appeared ready to collapse in on itself at any moment. Saying nothing with respect to the tenement, Bigby simply followed his contact up the central stairwell and into the room the man opened. Shutting the door and lighting up another cheap cigar, he looked up to see the wolf glaring at him. Smirking, he motioned down the hallway, chuckling softly as he heard Bigby setting the boy down and rifling for linens and soap. He tensed as he heard the wolf snarl. The sound of water met his ears shortly after that, followed by Bigby's large feet stomping back down his hallway.

"Find a place to burn this." The wolf's normally rough voice was tinged with hatred as he tossed what could only be considered rags at his contact. "And at some point, Jerome, I expect you to tell me why I've been dragged to this place."

The Briton let the rags fall to the floor, the odor coming from them too rough for even his sense of smell. He looked up at the sudden slamming of his door, listening as the infamous wolf stomped down the stairwell. Jerome shook his head as he looked back to the pile of filth laying in his floor. Heaving a great sigh, he retrieved his spell book, hoping he was still able to find the localized incendiary spell and cursing the day he agreed to be one of Bigby's spies.

* * *

"You left him _where_?" The wizened wizard's ire echoed through the living room, shaking the portraits as they hung on the walls. Vernon Dursley cringed, his chins wobbling as he attempted to squeeze an excuse from his plump lips. The wizard waved his hand, sparks spitting from his fingertips. "Do you understand just how important that boy is?" The rotund man nodded vigorously, watching with some apprehension as the wizard began to pace. "I have said nothing regarding your treatment of him to this point. It has served my purpose to allow you to cause him mental anguish." He stopped walking, turning on his heel, directing a glare back to Vernon. "Now, you've gone too far." His eyes seemed to glow with white-hot energy as he leaned towards the Muggle.

"The boy was asking for punishment." The woman's voice came from behind him. Vernon shook his head vigorously, closing his eyes when the wizard turned from him.

Approaching her slowly, the old wizard let a grin slowly spread over his face. "Did he now?" Her throat muscles visibly pulsed as she swallowed. Refusing to allow her fear to show on her face, she nodded once. "Well, Petunia, for _your_ son's sake you had better hope you can find him again." The chubby seven-year-old had peeked around his mother, wanting to see the wizard he had been told was so dangerous to them.

"He doesn't look dangerous." His voice was soft, but clearly audible in the quiet room. "What's your name, anyway?"

The wizard smiled, kneeling down so he was closer to being eye level with the child. "Professor Albus Dumbledore." His grin widened, though it managed to darken his face. "And you are Dudley." The boy nodded. "Do you want to know how I know that?"

Dudley shrugged. "Dad said you can read minds."

The grin fell from Dumbledore's face. He stood up, looking down at the boy from his height of nearly six feet. "I can indeed. Still, your name is known to me for another reason." Dudley's eyes had remained on the wizened wizard as he rose, widening considerably as the color drained from the boy's face. The frown on the old wizard's face frightened not only the overweight child, but his obese father, who quickly rose and pulled the boy to his side.

"Now see here!" Vernon's face seemed to swell as he stood up, his cheeks turning red. He pulled Dudley behind him, hoping to focus the wizard's attention away from the child. In his haste, the obese Muggle forgot the aged wizard's abilities. With but a wave of his hand, Dumbledore froze Vernon in place. A flick of his wand brought Dudley back towards him.

Petunia stepped forward, laying a hand on her son's shoulder. "Please. Vernon and I will go back to find him." The glimmer in her eye did not go unnoticed by the wizard. He smiled at her, the gesture devoid of any mirth.

"While you do, my dear, I will simply take Dudley with me." He bent down a bit, allowing his eyes to meet the boy's more easily once more. "Would you like to see a castle? Perhaps meet a real knight?" Dudley looked at the wizard skeptically. "Possibly talk to a dead person?" The boy perked up at that, a morbid curiosity bringing a mischievous light to his eyes. "Ah, you'd like that, eh?" Dumbledore's smile did not meet his eyes, but when Petunia reached toward Dudley to hold him back, he shrugged her off, happily approaching the wizard and accepting his invitation.

"Duddums?"

The chubby child turned back to his mother, a frown on his face. "I don't want to go with you and dad to find _Harry_. He's been nothing but trouble anyway. Besides, he said I can go have fun and talk to dead people! I wanna see if ooze drips from their bones when they rise from the grave!"

Petunia reared back slightly, unsure who this child before her was. She recalled many of the things Lily had told her about those freaks of nature she went to school with, including some of the regulations she was sure this old man had violated. Something about a secrecy act immediately came to mind, as it was one of the reasons that Lily had frequently cited for refusing to use magic to help her. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the thoughts swirling rapidly in her mind as her gaze switched between the wizard and her son. She was certain that, somehow, a spell had been woven over her child. Considering her options quickly, she stepped back, forcing a passive expression to her face.

"You'll have to release Vernon. I can't drive the car. I never was very good with a manual transmission." Nodding, Dumbledore flicked his wand. Another flick of his wand had a light settling over and around the pair. "Wh-what was that?"

The wizard grinned darkly. "Just a little insurance policy." Taking Dudley's hand in his own, he turned on the spot, vanishing from view.

* * *

When Bigby returned to the tenement, he found Jerome trying to douse a small inferno. Sighing, he took a deep breath before approaching the flame, exhaling a bitterly cold stream of air directly above it. The flames died quickly, revealing a pile of charred ash. Turning to Jerome, Bigby raised an eyebrow.

"That's what's left of the boy's clothes." The eyebrow lowered quickly, a scowl forming clearly on his face. "You _did_ tell me to."

Prepared to admonish the fable for the very mundy type of behavior, he stopped as his ears picked up the soft mumbles coming from the apparent lump of towels sitting on the very threadbare sofa. His brow furrowed as he walked slowly towards the clump of linen. The stream of words flowing from the pile was nearly incomprehensible, but his ears managed to discern the words '_I'm sorry_'. Pulling back one of the towels near the top of the pile, he found the boy wearing an oversized shirt rocking back and forth, cradling his broken arm while he chanted.

"Hey." He kept his voice soft. The child immediately stopped moving. Though the boy's limbs continued to shake slightly, he was no longer rocking himself. Bigby was unsure if this should be considered an improvement. The wolf turned back to face Jerome. "What the hell happened?"

Shrugging slightly, the man went to the closet. Bringing back a trowel and a garbage bag, he began trying to clean up the mess in the floor. After a few scrapes at the charred remains, he sighed and looked up at the wolf. "He came out of the water closet so quietly I wasn't aware he even had until he giggled." Shifting his attention back to the mess in the floor, he colored slightly as he continued. "Of course, I was the source of his amusement, or rather, my failed attempts to destroy those rags." Jerome stayed silent for a few moments as he concentrated on scraping at a particularly charred piece of carpet. After finally loosening the ash, he sat back on his heels, staring up at Bigby. "I don't know how it happened. I said something about not having to wear the rags again, and they just ignited. I think the mundies call it spontaneous combustion."

Bigby grunted, nodding in understanding. He turned his attention back to the couch, ignoring Jerome's mumbling about having to replace the carpet. He knelt down beside the sofa, staring at the boy. The child ducked his head, doing his best to appear invisible under the wolf's gaze.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The boy turned his head sharply, staring at Bigby in disbelief for only a moment before his face became impassive. Trying to alleviate the boy's fears, the wolf reached forward, holding his hand above the broken arm. He whispered a few words, watching as the skin sewed itself back together. The child looked up at him warily before testing his arm, moving it slowly. He grinned slightly as he realized it was no longer broken. "What's your name?"

The wolf watched as the boy swallowed. Silence settled over the pair, Bigby listening to the boy's breathing and heart rate. When the hammering of the child's heart settled, he finally spoke. "Harry."

"Harry." The wolf smirked a bit. He could not help but find humor in the name. "You called that man earlier your uncle." Harry nodded. "What happened?"

Still not sure just how much he was able – or willing – to trust Bigby, Harry shrugged one shoulder, looking down to his lap and picking at the hem of the oversized shirt. Noticing the line of his gaze, the wolf handed over the package he had brought in with him.

"Here. New clothes." Harry nodded, rising quickly from the couch so that he could change. He stood before the wolf for a moment with his head down, shuffling his bare foot against the carpet. Slowly looking up, he whispered a quick thanks, rushing from the room after he spoke.

"Skittish little thing, isn't he?" The wolf turned to face Jerome, finding the other man had cleaned the ash from the carpet as best he could. Bigby tilted his head to the side in question. "After he managed to start a fire I bungled a dozen times, he ran over to the couch and hid under those towels." Jerome tied the bag with the ashes tightly, not wanting to have to clean them up again. "He'd only been like that for a few minutes before you came in."

The sound of a door creaking open caught Bigby's attention. Turning to find the boy standing in the hallway, wide eyes looking at him with shock and surprise, the wolf took stock of the boy to make sure the clothes fit. He found that they were almost right – a little short in the torso, but otherwise, they seemed to be the right size. Motioning for Harry to come back in to the living room, he sat down in the chair opposite the couch.

Harry entered the room quickly, sitting on the sofa and keeping his head down. He hoped that he had not caused too much trouble. He could not help but be concerned for the punishment he was certain would be doled out for the fire he had somehow set. Several moments passed in silence. When he was certain that the other man must have fallen asleep, Harry raised his head. Instead of finding the man slumbering, he was met with hazel eyes staring at him. He gasped and tried to burrow further into the sofa.

Leaning forward, the wolf made certain to keep the boy's eyes on him. He wanted to judge his responses with more than the change in his scent and the increase of his heartbeat. The likelihood that this child would die of a heart attack before fifteen was high if he stayed this excitable. Careful to make his movements appear as non-threatening as he could, he slowly moved so his forearms were resting on his thighs. "My name's Bigby." The boy's head bobbed up and down so rapidly in acknowledgment the wolf was afraid it would detach.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Harry shuddered. "Hey, man, take it easy with that! You might have the fur to protect you from the cold you make, but me an' the kid aren't so lucky!" Though he had not intended to reveal what he was to the boy in such a crude way, he did note the boy's reaction. The child was not horrified at the revelation. Green eyes held both curiosity and fear as they took him in, the fear being replaced by confusion.

"I don't see any fur." Jerome dropped the bag, the plastic popping open a bit and letting some of the ash fall out. While the Briton swore behind him, Bigby watched Harry carefully. The boy had immediately covered his mouth with both hands after he spoke, certain that his comment would be met with some sort of punishment. The wolf's eyes narrowed briefly. Making his face as neutral as he could – which was somewhat difficult given his gruff demeanor – Bigby approached Harry quietly, crouching on the floor in front of the couch.

"Harry, it's okay." The boy lowered his hands slowly, Bigby taking note that both were shaking profusely. "You didn't upset me." The shuddering abated some, but the boy still seemed to be terrified. "Harry, how old are you?"

Meeting his gaze, the child swallowed before he answered. "I'm seven."

Not much could shock Bigby. He was, after all, the Big Bad Wolf. He had been a horror in the Homelands. His name struck terror in the hearts of fables everywhere. Even being on Earth and among the mundanes, his was a formidable presence that demanded respect. He found himself absolutely flabbergasted by the revelation. This small child could not weigh more than thirty or thirty-five pounds. He had carried him, and the small child had been no burden on him. Though he was about the right height for seven, he was far too thin. The wolf turned to face Jerome, allowing his eyes to narrow in his anger. The other man also seemed quite furious at the revelation.

Bigby returned his attention to Harry after taking several deep breaths to calm himself. "Harry, are you hungry?" The boy shrugged. "It's okay if you are."

Harry's eyes widened. He blinked rapidly to keep the tears pricking at his eyelids from falling. "A-are you sure?"

The wolf felt his ire increasing. If he came across that mundane again, he would happily slaughter him. Some of that alleged street art might find itself splattered with that foul creature's innards if he ever dared show his face anywhere near any of the fable areas of London.

Still thinking about all of the creative and horrifying methods by which he could mutilate the mundane, Bigby stood and grabbed his coat. He pulled a second coat from the inner pocket and handed it to Harry. "Put that on and we'll go get some food. What would you like?" The boy shrugged. "Burgers? Pizza?" Those were really the only two mundane dishes with which the wolf was at all familiar. He was grateful that the second one seemed to capture Harry's attention. "Pizza it is then. Jerome? You comin'?"

"You buyin'?" The other man flashed him a broad grin. The wolf grunted in response. "I'm taking that as a yes." Jerome snagged his coat from the closet, following the pair out so he could lock the apartment. "You heard 'im, kid. He tries to stiff me with the bill, an' I'm makin' 'im wash the dishes!"

Despite having to put up with his contact's antics, Bigby felt the ordeal might actually be worth it when he heard Harry giggle.

* * *

It had taken them an hour to get back to London. They spent another hour driving around the neighborhood where Vernon was certain he had left Harry. Petunia had been accosted several times, men on the streets thinking she was simply 'role-playing' her part for the evening. She had been thoroughly confused by the reference, and had let them know how affronted she was at their attentions. Even after all of the horribly grubby hands grabbing at her, they still had not been able to find the horrid child.

Sitting in the car in their driveway, they hoped that the wizard would not come back for her sister's errant child too quickly. Just as the thought passed through Petunia's mind, a thunderous clap sounded, announcing the return of the insane old wizard.

Dudley rushed from the house, running out to greet them. Vernon snatched his son up, tossing the child into the back seat of the car. He never looked up to see Dumbledore standing in their doorway, the light behind the wizard making him seem far more menacing. Petunia watched him flick his fingers at the car. When Vernon jumped back in, no matter what he did to try to start it, the engine simply would not turn over. As Petunia continued to hear her son's jabbering in the backseat, her eyes were focused on the approach of the angry wizard. When he reached the car, he simply snapped his fingers to unlock the doors before reaching over to pull Vernon's open.

Dumbledore's eyes were flashing with the magic he was suppressing. "Let's go inside, shall we." It was clear he had not intended it as a question, or even a suggestion. Despite how angry she was, Petunia had already learned that the wizard had done _something_ to them. She had tried at least four times to tell a bobby that her son had been kidnapped. Each time she had narrowly escaped being arrested for solicitation. She did not argue with the wizard, pulling Dudley from the back seat. He had simply kept chattering away.

Vernon reluctantly followed Petunia and Dudley back into the house, Dumbledore walking along behind them. Once the door was closed behind them all, he began waving his wand in intricate arcs. If it had been a lit baton, the Muggles might have found it impressive. Petunia kept Dudley next to her, doing her best to protect her son from whatever horrors the wizard might think to devise. When Dumbledore turned to look at her, the sickening smile pasted on his face as his eyes gleamed with anger, she realized she could not even begin to imagine what he could do to them. Whether she died protecting her child, she could not leave him with no defense against whatever was to come.

"So." Another flick of the wand, and a mirror seemed to appear from thin air. There were words written across the top that were in a strange tongue. "You didn't find him." Vernon shook his head, trying to shrink back into himself. Noticing that Petunia and Dudley were standing behind him, he moved so that they would be the first in the wizard's line of fire. Even while glowering at her husband, she kept herself between Dumbledore and her son.

"Dudley." Despite all of her efforts, the boy pushed past her at Dumbledore's call. "Did you have fun with me this evening?" The boy nodded. "Would you like to come back and spend some more time with me?" Dudley nodded rapidly, a grin spreading across his chubby face. "Well, I can offer you a way to stay until your parents are ready to come get you."

Shrugging off all of Petunia's efforts to restrain him, Dudley walked up to the wizard. "Give it to me!"

Dumbledore gave him a tight smile. "Simply read this." He produced a slip of papyrus from his sleeve, his eyes gleaming even as sparks flew from his fingers. Dudley snatched the paper from him, his eyebrows drawing together as he mouthed the words.

"It's not in English!" The boy stamped his foot as he spoke. There was nothing Dudley hated more than being promised a treat and someone playing a trick instead.

"Just sound it out, dear boy."

Rolling his eyes, Dudley stretched the paper out in front of him, squinting at it. He began slowly, stumbling over the first few words. "D...nu of eb... This is silly."

"If you want to come back with me, you have to say those words. Otherwise, I can't take you back into the magical world. It's only for witches and wizards, you know."

Dudley frowned. No one ever denied him anything he wanted. _No one_. He certainly was not going to let some old man tell him he could not go talk to the dead again. Resolved to read the words, he squinted at the paper as he began again. "Dnuof eb niaga eno?" He looked up at the wizard who smiled and nodded. Dudley grinned smugly at his mother before continuing. Petunia tried to snatch the paper from him, only to find her hands bound by an invisible force. "Nesohc eht litnu dnuob eb I llahs rorrim siht ni ylno!"

He was so proud of his accomplishment in reading the words that he did not notice at first that he was staring back at his parents without having turned around. He started to walk forward, inadvertently banging his nose against what he perceived as air. He could hear the wizard talking, though he could no longer see him. He noticed his mother had tears running down her cheeks, and his father had turned red – the way he did whenever Harry somehow did something simply by breathing. Placing his hands in front of him, he found the air in front of him had somehow turned solid. He was terrified when his mother reached out from the other side, her palm lying flat against his own, and he could feel nothing.

Petunia took her hand from the glass, staring at the wizard. "I'm sure there's some law of your... _people_ that you've just violated!"

Dumbledore simply laughed. "You know, they all criticized me for leaving the boy here. But when he comes back to our world in a few years – and make no mistake, he _will_ be coming – I needed him _nearly_ broken. He would then trust _me_. He would not question my edicts, for I would be the benevolence that you had never been." Any trace of mirth quickly faded from his face. "You've brought this down upon yourselves. When you find him, I'll return your son to you."

He waved his wand, the mirror vanishing from view. "Wait!" Petunia's voice held a tinge of hysteria. She was unsure how much longer she could hold on to her sanity, but she would certainly try, for her son's sake. "Why can't you use your own people to find him? You have more means than we do –"

"You foolish woman." Dumbeldore's voice was filled with venom. "You remembered those secrecy acts earlier, so certain I had violated them and willing to use them against me. Surely you realize that the same edicts would prevent us from launching a massive search for him. _You_ created this problem – you and your cowardly husband will _resolve_ it." Despite his intention to do exactly as she had suggested, he certainly was not going to forgive the Dursleys for their part in losing the Chosen One.

"How?" She made no effort to hide the tears streaming down her face.

Dumbledore grinned evilly. "Use your own police." Reaching his hand out to where the mirror had been, he seemed to grip the air tightly before turning. The loud pop was drowned out by Petunia's terrified wails. Vernon fell to the floor with a thud, unconscious.

* * *

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	2. And Fire Came Down

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own Wolf Among Us, or Fables, the comic upon which that game is based. I make no profit from this work of fiction._

**Things you need to know**

I realize that some of the events of this chapter are AU. I tend to view all crossovers as AU simply by the definition of what they are. I do hope the wait for the chapter proves to be worth it.

This chapter – in fact the next few chapters – will dramatize certain historical events. It is not my intention to in any way diminish these events or the impact that they had on the families of those involved. The events were chosen because it furthers my plot to include them. I have **not** included historical persons as it is the event I'm focused on rather than the people involved, may those who perished rest in peace.

* * *

The chill in the air brought the memory of him to the fore of Snow's mind. Rising to close the window in the office beside her desk, she was forced to admit that she had never expected to miss him. The changes in Fabletown, though, had made her reconsider her affection for him. While she would never admit to having an attraction to Bigby Wolf, Snow would also never deny that she had relied on him. As she turned back to the heavily laden desk stacked high with papers, she slowly let out a breath, closing her eyes in an attempt to momentarily block out the work waiting on her. The loud clang of the front door as its metal frame banged against the wall had Snow's eyes popping open quickly, her left hand reaching behind her to grab the pistol from the holster strapped to her back. It had never been necessary for her to carry such a thing when Bigby had been around.

Her thumb had snapped open the clasp holding the gun in place, her hand wrapped firmly around the grip, before her visitor managed to identify himself. His hands were stretched out before him, the spell which allowed him to pass as human in town failing in his anxiety. Toad had never been a fan of the glamour regulations, but his disgust for them had not kept him from adhering to them since Bigby's disappearance. The Tweedles had not been shy about turning his apartment complex upside down whenever they felt like it within one week of Bigby's leaving.

Toad blinked his eyes, the membrane moving over the surface slowly. His nervousness was obvious. Snow had always been known for being reasonable, calm and collected. Since Bigby's disappearance, she had changed quite a bit, leaving the amphibian fable unsure as to whether he would survive any particular encounter with the deputy mayor. Toad kept his hands visible, hoping that Snow would ease the grip he could tell she was keeping on her firearm.

"Listen. I'm not here to cause trouble." He spoke slowly and made sure to enunciate each word. His hands still raised in the air, he stepped slowly from the front door, not moving past the outer office. She moved her hand away from her waistband. Seeing that it was empty, the amphibian breathed a sigh of relief, letting his hands drop. Toad's posture slumped as the tension left his muscles in a rush. He managed a soft glare as he finally addressed the deputy mayor once more. "You know, you were never this jumpy before Bigby flew the coop."

Snow glowered at him. "You've a lot of gall, Toad." She rounded the desk, still in the inner office. She stepped over to the filing cabinet, opening it and rifling for a file. Despite the appearance of ignoring him, she was well aware of his every movement. Snow wanted to be able to put an obstacle between them if she saw the need for it. Pulling a folder out, she laid it on top of the cabinet. She turned back to him, placing her foot slightly behind the door so she would be able to kick it closed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you here?"

The amphibian looked down to the floor for a moment. Snow could see his pupils darting back and forth as his eyes moved in their overly large sockets. Nodding as though he had finally reached a decision, Toad raised his eyes to her. "Those of us that can't pass to the mundanes... We're leaving, Snow. We've had enough." Snow could not help the shock she felt from reflecting itself on her face. "We're vacating to the Farm. I came … Well, to let you know."

"Toad, what–?" The amphibian cut her off, waving his hand in the air between them.

"I know you and Bigby meant well, taking down the Crooked Man." Toad watched Snow's left eyebrow rise to nearly touch her hairline, her mouth turning down into a deep frown. "N-now, don't think we're not grateful." His gaze returned to the floor, not able to continue looking at her as he spoke. "W-we really appreciate what you a-and Bigby did." He ran one of his stubby fingers over the bulbous wart on his left hand, gently rubbing the discolored skin. "But th-the Tweedles... E-ever since..."

Taking pity on him, Snow stepped forward as he let his voice trail off into silence. Despite believing he had no ill intentions, she still took a moment to look through the window to her left as she walked into the outer office. Her steps sounded loudly in the sparsely furnished rooms, the clack of her heels echoing through the hardwood flooring. Reaching the shorter fable, she placed a hand gently on his shoulder. Toad looked up at her, his eyes wide. Though his mouth was usually angled downward from the natural tilt of his lips, it seemed even more drawn than what Snow considered usual. The skin on his face seemed dryer than normal, and somewhat flaky, as though he had been sitting out in the sun for far longer than customary for him. The leathery cracks along his face that normally seemed smooth appeared harsher and weathered.

Staring into his eyes, Snow only nodded. Toad's lip curled upward slightly in what she could only imagine was the best smile he had been able to muster in weeks. She let her hand drop from his shoulder as he turned from her, leaving the building as hurriedly as he had come. Frowning as she mulled over his words, she attempted to recall all of the incidents with the Tweedles since the Crooked Man had been turned into a raven by Aunty Greenleaf. She had never trusted the witch, and could never reconcile herself to the decision Bigby had made not to burn her tree. It would not have surprised Snow to learn that Greenleaf had woven a shape-shifting charm into the spell rather than simply transforming the fiend. In spite of the reasoning Bigby had given her for letting the tree survive, Snow could never quite agree with allowing a witch autonomy – even if it was limited simply to allowing a magical plant.

If Greenelaf had actually managed to fool them all, including the wardens that were sent at random intervals to check on the raven, it would explain why the Tweedles had seen fit to commence their reign of terror once Bigby had left. With the wolf there, they had been more than content to keep to themselves. While not Fabletown's most upright citizens, they had behaved relatively well after the trial. If Snow's guess was right, then it was entirely possible that the Crooked Man had used his altered appearance to his advantage. If he had kept his beak closed and his wings tucked close to his body as he flew, it was possible that people would have mistaken him for a common crow. Even fables could have been deceived if they were not looking for the distinctive characteristics which marked him as a magical being.

Snow walked back to the inner office as the thoughts turned tumultuously in her head. As a crow, it would have been simple for him to notice when fables left the town. Closing the door even though there were no beings to overhear her should she start thinking aloud, her eyes widened as the latch clicked. She leaned back against the wood, feeling the knob dig into the small of her back. If the Crooked Man hid himself among the mundanes – if Greenleaf had conjured something else to sit in his gilded prison in his place to let him go free, he would be able to wreak grater havoc on Fabletown than simply unleashing the Tweedles. He could help the mundanes to find them.

Her breath came in rapid pants. The thought of their entire way of life being under attack frightened her. She did not know if she could go through another horrifying war, especially when it could result in genocide. She was certain that the mundanes would treat them horribly if they found them. Feeling her heart pounding against her ribs as she let her weight sag against the inner office door, Snow knew what she needed to do. Resolve calmed her breath. Nodding to herself, she pushed off the door, moving through the office to lock things away. Finally satisfied with the state of her desk after an hour, she grabbed the keys. Exiting the inner office and locking the door behind her, she walked briskly through the building, her steps ringing out with determined purpose. Once she was out on the street and had closed up the building, only one purpose remained.

She would have to find Bigby and do whatever it took to get him to return to Fabletown. It didn't matter what witch she had to talk to in order to get a tracking spell cast, nor did she care what bargain she had to make to bring the wold back. She could not let the fables down again.

* * *

He might not know Bigby all that well, but Harry was certainly glad to have met him. At first, he had been thoroughly frightened of the burly man, terrified that he had gone from bad to worse. Surely such a muscular man would be able to do far more damage than his uncle had ever managed. Instead of hurting him, though, the large man had taken care of him. He had made sure Harry ate three meals a day. It took several months for him to grow into the clothes that he had been given that first night. When he had started to gain weight, Harry had stopped eating as much for a while. Bigby had been quite angry about that.

Even though Bigby had been upset at Harry's refusal to eat, the wolf could hardly blame the boy. He seemed to think that his clothes should not fit him properly. It had taken him quite some time to understand that he should not have to thread a shoelace through his belt loops in order to keep his pants from falling down to his ankles. It had taken even longer for Harry to accept that a shirt was not meant to come down to his knees.

When Bigby had managed to get the boy to accept that having his clothes fit properly did not mean he was liable to outgrow them overnight, and that even if he _did_ manage undergo a growth spurt it was not a punishable offense, the wolf had told Jerome to show them to the local shopping center. The nicotine-addict had gladly complied. Though that trip had been fun, Harry was glad that the luxuries were still a special treat and not something his new caretaker had expected him to accept as a daily routine.

It had been four months since Bigby had taken him in, and Harry could not have been happier with the change in his situation. The wolf certainly did not let him eat mundane junk food every day, but he was also careful to slowly introduce him to the more unusual of the fable foods. A boy who had only ever had water to drink with his meals certainly had not ever even considered drinking vegetable juice. Pumpkin juice had been a new item in Harry's diet since Halloween.

The wolf had been confused by the boy's behavior on that day. In his experience, it had been the one day each year that the fables who could not possibly pass for human without a glamour had been able to mingle freely among the mundanes. He could recall an instance where Toad had taken TJ out into the mundy world on that night. Parents walking with their mundane children, all dressed up in Halloween grandeur, had been sure to tell Toad how wonderful it was that he had worn an outfit to match his son's. It had made Bigby seriously wonder about the sanity of the mundanes.

But Harry had not reacted with joy or wonder when Halloween had come. He had been sullen and withdrawn. Bigby had been uncertain how to handle it. He had no experience with children really, and certainly not someone like this boy, who was neither fable nor mundane. He had tried, though. When Harry had shown no interest in running about in a silly costume to get candy, even Jerome had seemed perplexed. The chain-smoker did make a suggestion, though. A game had opened up in the States that enthralled most of the children there – so much so that it had resulted in a recent program on the telly.

On Halloween night, Jerome had smiled broadly as he pulled out the small package for Harry. The boy had been overwhelmed. Tears were in the corners of his eyes, and Bigby could not make much sense of the muddled emotions wafting from the child. Joy, fear, wonder, terror, uncertainty – they all mingled to confuse the wolf's nose. He had growled gruffly, ordering Harry to open the package just so that the odor would go away. Green eyes had widened so far that Bigby was concerned they might not close again. The scent of the boy's excitement, oddly enough, calmed the elder fable. With his nose no longer in turmoil, he had gladly joined the pair in sitting in front of the television.

The screen had lit up, bright flashes shooting across it as the show began. An impossible storyline had both Bigby and Jerome exchanging a look of utter disbelief in the strangeness of mundanes, but neither said anything as Harry leaned forward. If either had known that the boy's fascination stemmed from the fact that he was being allowed to watch television, Bigby might have insisted on something less ridiculous. The issue quickly became moot.

When a flash of bright green light had been fired from the laser gun in the villain's hand towards another person on the screen, Harry had tensed. When the camera had panned, facing the villain to give the viewer a sense of imminent danger, the hairs on the wolf's arms had stood on end. When the green flash covered the television screen, the boy seemed to react instinctively. One hand had come up to cover his face while the other reached out towards the video. The player began violently spewing the tape ribbon out onto the floor. The screen of Jerome's somewhat ancient television cracked and splintered. Bigby never asked how Jerome obtained the tape, and it was just as well since it was possible the little swindler would have wanted him to pay when Harry inadvertently destroyed it.

After the sparks had stopped flying and the lights had settled from the apparent power surge, Bigby turned to find that Harry was rocking himself back and forth as he had when he had burned the rags. The wolf became even more certain that the child was incredibly special. He was no fool, though. He knew that if he wanted to be sure he did not wake to find himself in an accidental inferno one night, he would need to get the boy some help with whatever strange gift the boy possessed. It had taken hours to calm Harry, to convince the child that neither he nor Jerome were angry with him.

Shortly after the incident, Jerome had been able to locate another odd mundane, but he had refused to accompany the pair to meet him. Bigby had frowned, growled, and even snarled at the smaller man. Despite the efforts of intimidation, Jerome had refused to change his mind. While he usually gave in to Bigby's demanding attitude, on this particular occasion, he insisted that he would be too out of place in their meeting. Harry had simply shaken his head before heading to the door, grabbing the new coat the wolf had given him and gingerly slipping it on. Strangely enough, he had become accustomed to the temper that the wolf displayed.

Bigby had been surly as they left the tenement. Despite his curiosity, Harry managed to keep from asking him anything until they were close to the train station. They had rarely traveled in the areas of London he had seen in the books he sneaked into the pantry he had lived in at the Dursleys. When they did go to places he recognized, he always felt like one of the tourists he could see with cameras, standing in the street with wide eyes as they snapped rolls of film to preserve the moment forever. Harry's wide-eyed wonder proved to be contagious.

Seeing the smile on the boy's face as he craned his neck to take in some piece of architecture, the sparkle in his eyes as he walked in an arc without a care as to the other foot traffic just so he could get a better look at the dome on the church as they passed, the wolf's temper calmed. He even managed a slight grin at Harry's boisterous enthusiasm. When they entered King's Cross, the boy was nearly glowing with the energy boiling up inside him. His gaze had steadily traveled upward, the high windows capturing his attention with the way they lit up the concourse. Bigby had slowed his gait to accommodate Harry's curiosity. Gently guiding the boy, head still swiveling about to take in all the sights of the terminal, Bigby managed to direct them to the line to purchase tickets. Even Harry's innocence could not keep his temper at bay forever, though.

The wolf's patience had begun to wane by the time they reached the counter, his voice coming out in a slight growl as he ordered two seats on the train to York. They would have to hire a car from the station to get to the meeting Jerome had arranged. The wolf had never liked being cooped up, especially not in such a small space as he would have to endure for this trip. Despite understanding the necessity, Bigby could not help his natural irritation. He was grateful that Jerome had given him some nose plugs. The mundanes apparently used them when swimming to keep themselves from breathing in water. Stepping away from the counter, he handed Harry the train tickets as he fished the package from his pocket. Enthralled by his surroundings, the boy simply stayed next to Bigby while the wolf tinkered with the package, snarling at the plastic that refused to open.

Finally shredding the tiny pouch into small slivers of plastic, Bigby barely managed to catch the plugs before they touched the dirt-covered floor. When he ducked down to snatch them, an acrid odor assaulted his nostrils. He recognized the stench of burning hair and flesh. More than one time in the Homelands he had found himself singed by a farmer's torch.

He stood quickly, his hand landing heavily on Harry's shoulder as he pulled the boy behind him. "Stay with me." He felt the small fingers grasping the cloth of his shirt just above his waist. Nodding to himself, Bigby wrinkled his nose as he sniffed, tilting his head back to try to track the scent. He made his way carefully through the crowd, keeping one arm behind him to hold Harry close. He wanted to make certain that the boy did not get lost – he could hardly afford to be tracking whatever this odor belonged to as well as the child.

His search for the source of the fetid odor was quickly interrupted as the mundanes began screaming and running towards him. He turned, grabbing Harry quickly to keep him from being swept away. The smell was thick in the air as the wolf lifted the boy into his arms, hoisting him up to his shoulders. Echoing off the walls of the station, the squeals of terror caused Bigby to cringe. He managed to stay upright, keeping the boy above the ruckus. Shaking his head, the wolf did his best to ignore the ringing noise as he waded into the thick of the crowd.

Sitting up high, Harry was able to see clearly over the herd of people rushing toward them. As Bigby continued to press forward through the crowd, Harry stared into the midst of those running. He saw bright flashes of light, but they paled in comparison to the blaze that filled a large void in the midst of the terminal. It seemed to grow the more people ran from it, but he could not be certain the perception was not just a trick of his imagination. The light reflected off of the tiled walls and floors. As they got closer, it became clear that there was some sort of fire blazing in the area that was being vacated.

The stench nearly overwhelmed Bigby. Stopping to set Harry back down, the wolf quickly put the plugs into his nostrils. With the smell dampened, he knelt down to look Harry in the eye. "Stay here." The boy was ready to protest, his mouth opened as he took a breath to try to be heard over the screaming that echoed through the cavernous station. "Not a word, boy." Bigby had never been one to let his concern for others show openly. Where another might have tried to gently convince the boy not to rush into danger, the wolf simply snarled to make his point. Harry's jaw clacked shut as he withdrew from the wolf, his face clearly reflecting the fear he felt.

Bigby winced as he turned from the boy, knowing he would have to rebuild what little trust he had managed to gain. Any temporary dislike was preferable to Harry's death or dismemberment, however. Swiveling his head to send one last glare over his shoulder, Bigby was content the boy would not stray into the blazing inferno where he himself was headed. He did not even spare a thought for his own safety as he rushed into the flames. If he could survive having his stomach cut open and passing stones while being underwater for nearly a month, he certainly would not concern himself over a little fire. He had, after all, once eaten a dragon.

Lights much like the laser show that Jerome had managed to find peppered the air, but when _these_ connected, the result was much different than simple light. Many of them were blue, a frigid icy shade that might have been an attempt to freeze the inferno at which they were aimed. Sadly, they simply fizzled on contact. Realizing that he could do better than snow that melted five feet from the fire, Bigby opened his mouth, concentrating on calling forth the lesser winds to help him cool the flames.

The blaze died down just enough for him to see into the center of the raging fire. Standing within was a creature the wolf could barely think to describe. It stood just over five feet tall, not including the enormous hump directly behind its neck. The added mass made it appear twice as formidable as the fire surrounding it. It ignored the streaks of light propelled towards it as it turned to face Bigby. Large black pupils were surrounded by skin reddened by the fire that it seemed to command. The blackened fur around the animal's head gave it an air of evil. Staring into its eyes, the wolf could tell it was quite intelligent. And very angry. All he had managed to do with the lesser winds was to attract the beast's attention.

As it glared into the wolf's eyes, it stamped its hooves, each strike against the tiles causing its nostrils to flare outward. The fire surrounding it grew hotter, and the tiles underneath it, already cracked from its massive weight, began melting. Without a thought to the consequences, Bigby transformed slightly. His eyes turned yellow, glowing menacingly in the flickering light. His beard filled out and his hair grew longer. His teeth sharpened, and when he opened his mouth, a growl that would rival any wild animal echoed from the tiled walls. It only seemed to anger the beast more.

It charged towards him. Bigby dodged the beast's first run, turning to watch as it barreled into the side of a train. The stationary car folded inward under the impact, mundane screams nearly matching pitch with the sound of the buckling metal. Watching as the siding melted from the heat of the flames, Bigby considered his options carefully. He certainly could not provoke the beast again as the only thing behind him now was a large group of people.

The melting siding stayed aflame as the beast disentangled itself from the mangled train car. It kicked the debris aside, scattering it across the tracks and platform. Sparks from the smaller pieces lit other parts of the station on fire as they landed. Mundanes who had been staying on the train in the hopes of not getting involved quickly came pouring off in droves. A scent wafted to the wolf from the group, familiar enough to him to overpower the acrid stench of the burning creature in front of him. Turning his attention from the five-foot living fire, he scanned the crowd. He could not see her, but he knew she was nearby. Snow, however, was very capable of taking care of herself. He would find her when this debacle had finally come to an end. Stopping this beast was his priority for the moment. He turned back to find the enormous beast staring down at him with a terrifying rage glowing in its eyes.

It charged towards him, landing a blow to his sternum with its horns. The fire immediately spread to his clothes, singeing the skin and hair underneath. He snarled as he tore the garments from his frame quickly, not bothering to even try to douse the flames with the lesser winds at his command. He growled at the beast, nearly completing his transformation into a werewolf. A brief moment of sanity kept him from making the mistake that would have had any weapons trained on him just as much as the fiery horror that he was intent on keeping from bringing down the station.

Scenting the air again, Bigby's nose discerned something it had not previously. This beast was female. The revelation stopped him from pressing the attack he normally would have. He could not quite pinpoint why that information shocked him so much, but the beast certainly took advantage of his momentary distraction. Barreling past him, she rushed towards the crowd leaving the train. The direction she was headed took her directly toward Harry.

Without thinking of the repercussions, Bigby rammed into the beast from behind, causing her knees to buckle with the impact. Her front legs faltered, sending her crashing into the tiles beneath her. She skidded across the floor, stopping only a few feet from Harry. Allowing himself to become distracted had been a nearly fatal error. The wolf snarled as he wrapped his hands around her left rear leg, ignoring the searing agony pulsing through his limbs as the flames of her skin consumed his flesh. He yanked her backwards, looking up to see the boy resolved and determined to help. He opened his mouth to warn the child back, but he never got the chance.

Snow stepped in front of the creature, pulling her pistol from its holster smoothly and training it on the beast. She yanked the boy to her side, her firm grip on his arm keeping his struggles from having any effect. Harry looked up to meet the wolf's gaze, the terrified thought that someone was trying to abduct him evident in his wide eyes. Bigby gave the boy what assurance he could, knowing his voice would not carry to the child over the din echoing through the concourse. Snow advanced on the flaming beast standing between them. Apparently realizing the inevitable conclusion of facing the pair of fables – even if the beast had no idea what they were, the creature bucked backward towards Bigby before using the momentary distraction to run from them, directly into the crowd of mundanes attempting to escape the growing conflagration.

The sparks that had connected with highly flammable material had caused an enormous fire to break out in the station. Even as she ran from them, the beast continued to engulf parts of the station in flames. The mundanes dropped to the ground when their clothes sparked, rolling to deny the blaze the oxygen it needed. Those who had been commanding small sparks of light seemed to have disappeared while he attacked the beast. Bigby had never been able to stomach cowardice. Even he, a fable among mundanes, had not abandoned the battle simply because the enemy seemed formidable. He snarled as he scented the air, but the putrid odor of singed hair clouded his sense of smell.

Walking over to Harry, he checked the boy to make certain there was no injuries that needed to be treated. The child was shaking, terrified at what had just happened. He picked Harry up, placing the boy astride his shoulders once more. Snow simply stared at the pair, one eyebrow raised in question as she holstered her gun.

Hearing the sirens coming closer, Bigby knew that they could not afford to be caught at King's Cross. The station would be crawling with medical personnel who would be determined to treat his superficial wounds. His skin would heal itself shortly, and the injured mundanes would need the attention more. He might not be fond of the non-magical beings, but he certainly did not want to be a catalyst for open warfare with them by revealing the existence of fables so carelessly.

With Harry on his shoulders, Bigby headed for the exit, weaving quickly through the crowd and managing to break through before the emergency vehicles arrived. Snow kept pace with the pair, her scent telegraphing her position as it wafted on the air. Once clear from from the train station, Bigby set Harry down. They were about two kilometers from the fire, and it could still clearly be seen over the tops of the buildings they had passed. Harry kept his arms wrapped firmly around one of the wolf's legs as he watched the blaze engulf the station more quickly than he had thought possible. Bigby listened to the sound of the hoses mundanes used to douse fires, quickly distracted by Snow as she approached him quietly. She was biting her lower lip from the inside, the action making her lower lip appear to be nothing more than a line against her face. Nodding her head as though reaching a decision, she finally spoke.

"You disappeared." It was a little less vulgar than what Bigby had expected her to open with, but he supposed she had tempered herself given the presence of such a young child. He simply nodded in response, watching her carefully He noted that her eyes seemed to be cataloging each injury he had suffered. "You didn't even leave any kind of notice." Bigby raised an eyebrow at the statement. "With anybody."

The wolf scoffed, the sound causing Harry to turn his attention from the inferno in the distance. "I'm not sure where you think you're going with that." Snow glowered at him. "Things were calm, and I had something I needed to check out." She crossed her arms over her chest. Bigby just shrugged, turning to check on Harry. The boy had a smirk on his face that he seemed to be trying to hide as he listened to the pair. Kneeling down, Bigby leaned close to Harry. "Got somethin' you want to say?"

The boy stopped trying to hide his mischievous grin. His eyes danced with mirth as he let his gaze shift between the two adults. "When's the wedding?"

* * *

The hissing that echoed through the stone chambers was at turns morose and angry. Like any woman, the enormous python paced when agitated. She slithered about the room, drying out her skin as her belly slid along the cold granite. Despite the comforting hiss of her master's voice in her mind as she shared her body with his spirit, her frustrations were readily apparent.

She took out her inward turmoil on each of her master's servants as they returned. With each new set of ankles that landed in her path, her teeth would snap as she tried to close them about an uncovered leg. She did not even give them the benefit of a warning hiss. When her attack was stopped by a spell forcing her mouth to stay open, she had looked up at the owner of the limb she had tried to bite. Obsidian eyes stared back at her, the mask obscuring his other features. She thrashed her tail several times, but he did not release the spell until he was well out of the range of her teeth.

Her master's voice hissed in her mind, insisting she stay with them so that he could learn of their exploits. He had been glad to know that, even though they were far more discrete, his followers continued in the path he had set for them before the unfortunate mishap resulting in his disembodied state. Sullenly, she obeyed.

"What the hell was that thing?" The question was quickly followed by a startled yelp from the speaker.

Slipping the mask from his face, the wizard with his wand still drawn shook out his overly long blond hair. "You've been spending far too much time among them, Gibbon." Sheathing his wand before turning away from the other wizard, the blond walked to the hallway leading to the lower levels. "You've started picking up their phrases." The heels of his expensive dragonhide boots clacked loudly against the stone floors as he walked away.

Glaring at his retreating figure, Gibbon paid no attention to the obsidian eyes observing him. The third wizard removed his mask, taking care to peel the covering slowly as he removed it from his hooked nose. Staring at him after watching the interaction between the other two, Nagini could not help her idle curiosity, wondering how the man could possibly have managed to fit his nose into such a mask and not be recognized instantly.

Walking past Gibbon, the younger man's boots made considerably less noise as he made his way down the same corridor. Nagini slithered alongside him, keeping pace with his long strides. His gait carried him quickly through the darkened hallway. No light entered other than what was produced from the tip of his wand as he cast a small _Lumos_ spell to keep from stumbling over her if she chose to cross his path. No portraits hung on the walls, not even blank enchanted canvas for any painted figure to enter. His nearly silent footfalls abruptly stopped as he reached the wall at the end. Looking down at her, he raised an eyebrow. She simply hissed for him to open the chamber.

He tapped three specific stones, canceling the _Lumos_ as he sheathed his wand. Light filtered into the corridor from the torches just beyond as the stones parted to allow them entry. Slithering ahead of him, Nagini rapped her tail heavily on the toe of his boot. She could feel her master's grin in her mind just as clearly as she could hear the splashes in the water below them and the taunts of the blond wizard who had preceded them.

"You'd be wise to get this over with. You've been here for seven years. Each year, you've become weaker from being confined. By the time you finally give in, you won't know what it's like to live out there in the ocean any longer, and those that were once your prey will _eat you alive_." The thrashing of a body within the water the wizard seemed to be addressing became more pronounced. Large waves of water came splashing over the side, drenching the wizard as the movements became more violent. He snarled incoherently as he drew his wand, his actions quickly halted as a spell froze him in place.

His steps were completely drowned out by the thrashing of the unhappy beast kept hidden in this room, but the wizard Nagini had entered with made his way around the blond to stare directly into his face. "Lucius, we have no idea _what_ the Dark Lord did to that creature. And I'm not interested in finding out if he can breathe on land just because you've decided to torture a water snake." Lucius' gainsboro-grey eyes darkened to silver as he glared at the other wizard. The spark of anger that flashed behind the muted face spoke more than any words he would have voiced, causing the obsidian eyes observing it to dance with laughter. "I'll release you once we're upstairs. I have no intentions of getting the beast in such a foul mood that he won't mate with Nagini as intended." Waves of anger rolled off of the blond wizard. "_You_ weren't in Turkey when we captured him."

No more words were spoken between the pair, and Nagini lost interest once the wall closed behind them. She turned her attention to the water, where her intended was calming. Slithering beside the pool, she asked him why he was so angry. Snakes did not bond for life the way other animals felt the need to do, but since there were no others large enough to mate with her, she tried to keep this one happy. Her hisses were answered only with silence. She slithered off to the corner, curling up and sulking, ignoring the angry orders of her master as he railed at her inside her mind. Beyond keeping this male happy enough to mate her twice a year, she needed to have him impregnate her. Her master needed his own body to inhabit. She was tired of sharing hers.

* * *

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