Moonlight

Chapter 1

As the night creeps closer to midnight, the inky darkness of the Forbidden Forest is pierced only by pale beams of moonlight. Heavy in the sky, the nearly-full moon watches over the cloaked figure that waits patiently in a small clearing. The visitor to the enchanted place bides his time by watching the clouds pass over the celestial body and counting the stars. As he remains on his perch, a long-fallen tree trunk, the cloaked individual appears to be completely at home in the lair of some of the wizarding world's most sinister magical creatures.

One of these creatures, a lone grey wolf, watches the trespasser with rapt attention. The abnormally-large canine is shrouded in the protective shadows of the ancient trees, perfectly blended into its ominous environment.

"You're late, Fenrir," replies the visitor after a few moments pass. Raising his hood, none other than Harry James Potter stares back into the eerily-calm darkness that surrounds the small clearing. "Do you plan to just watch me all night?"

With a huff of amusement, the werewolf approaches Harry at his own confident stride. The moonlight glints off the silver strands that usually remain hidden in the wolf's dark grey fur and highlights the graceful power in the creature's movements. Fenrir's eyes lock onto green ones as he nears the wizard. His heavy paws make no noise as they pad across the forest floor. Once he is close enough, the large canine leisurely begins to circle around the Saviour of the Wizarding World—the alpha wolf taking his time to savor the unique scent that is Harry Potter. The lycan ignores personal boundaries as he buries his nose into the vulnerable curve of his companion's throat, his tongue lapping the delicate skin over the wizard's pulse. A shiver escapes Harry as he rakes his own hands through the wolf's thick fur.

If it were physically possible at the moment, Fenrir would be grinning.

Once he completes his scenting of the wizard, the werewolf turns and silently leads the way into the depths of the forest. Harry follows dutifully, his legs moving before his brain issues the command to do so. Meandering between age-old trees and ancient rock formations, the auror keeps pace with the large wolf. A weighted, yet comfortable, silence settles between the two as they make their way. Above them, the moonlight continues to trickle between the branches as the forest comes alive with the natural harmony of its inhabitants. Yet, the werewolf and the wizard remain silent as they continue their trek.

Out of the vast darkness of the Forbidden Forest, a familiar cave appears. The contentment that settles into Harry's scent makes another amused huff leaves Fenrir's muzzle—unbeknownst to the wizard beside him.

The wolf stands to the side of the cavern, waiting until Harry enters. Ducking low to avoid bumping his head, the wizard makes his way into the hideaway, his memory guiding him better than his senses. The den is pleasantly warm inside despite the cool autumn wind that still manages to blow through the wizard's robes. Harry mutters a soft "Lumos" to illuminate the end of his wand, a flick of his wrist creates a constellation of light points that linger above them. Now bathed in the soft artificial starlight, the wizard takes in the interior of the cave. Thick furs, that look like the pelt of some rather impressive bears, line the ground and provide a soft bedding. Breathing in the earthy scent, a wave of fondness passes over Harry's face as he remembers past nights of passion spent on the surprisingly-luxurious pelts.

Caught up in the memories, the wizard is surprised when two heavily-muscled arms wrap around his body. The warmth of the bare chest behind him, radiates through Harry's clothes, dispelling the chill from the forest. Trapped in the strong and possessive grip, a deep chuckle reverberates through out the cave as the wizard subconsciously leans back into the man now standing behind him.