A/N—hello darkness my old friend….

Through The Cyclone Of The Phoenix

By- RobinTheSlytherin

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Chapter 14

The Alpha and The Whip

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"Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful."

-Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley-

'Frankenstein'

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The prison was a maze, Fenrir thought, panting heavily.

But he did as he was told and followed the faint wisp of air towards its opening.

He encountered no one, but heard echoing sounds of screaming, and cries of pain.

And then he saw it!

It was a crack in the stone barely big enough for Fenrir to squeeze through.

He had to twist the ring so that his armor would disappear, and he could slip through. Once outside he was able to twist the ring again.

Fenrir looked around desperately. The prison was on an edge of a cliff, above trashing angry waves. It was also dark.

Fenrir didn't notice the full moon rising over the clouds.

And even if he did, he wouldn't think much of it.

He raised his wand hand as Hermione instructed, but nothing happened.

Must still be within the wards, he thought looking around.

And then he heard it.

Multiple growling sounds came from a thicket of trees, and then Fenrir saw something that made his blood run cold

Within the trees were a dozen sets of glowing eyes.

Werewolves….

Fenrir gulped taking one hesitate step back.

His heart hammered within his small chest, and paralyzing fear run through his veins.

He thought of Hermione and his promise to save her, and just as suddenly felt a rush of courage burst through his chest.

His legs were moving, running away from the pounding paws that chased him.

Still, Fenrir ran as fast as he could.

He couldn't breath and his heart would surely explode, but still he kept going.

If only he had his wand!

Finally, Fenrir saw the edge of the glowing anti magic barrier. Werewolves, being magical creatures would not be able to cross it without a wizard's help.

Fenrir was feet away from the barrier when he leapt through it.

Or at least he almost did.

Halfway out, Fenrir was yanked back violently.

And then his world exploded with unimaginable pain when the wolf pinned him down…

And sank its teeth into Fenrir's neck.

He screamed as he felt the wolf rip a chunk out of him.

Without much thought, Fenrir grabbed his whip and twisted it around the wolf's neck.

The werewolf hadn't expected Fenrir to fight back and gasped in surprise as the boy yanked the golden whip as hard as he could.

And the wolf's head came off its shoulders with one quick tug.

Blood and gore sprayed over Fenrir as he gasped and scrambled over the barrier.

The other wolfs watched on as the boy killed their pack leader, Adolfo.

They eyed the sobbing boy, and his bite with newfound excitement. The pack lowered their heads, exposing the backs of their necks in submission and acceptance.

Still struggling to get away, Fenrir held the bleed8ng side of his neck with one hand and lifted his wand hand to summon the night bus.

The Night Bus screeched to a halt, opening its purple doors to welcome him.

Fenrir twisted his ring, shaking and sheet white as the golden armor disappeared.

"Crikey lad! Get on quick! Oh Merlin, your hurt!" Ernie the conductors gasped, pulling Fenrir aboard when he saw the werewolves "By Merlin!"

"Hog…Hogwarts." Fenrir breathed in shock and pure terror "Headmaster D-Dumbledore! Please!"

"Right-o lad, sit down, hold this to your neck!" Ernie said shoving a sheet into his hand from one of the wobbling beds "Take her away Johnny! Hogwarts, and make it quick!"

As the Night Bus disappeared into the night, the glowing eyes of the wolf pack flickered over one another in agreement.

It seemed they had a new master, whether the boy knew it or not.

To kill the alpha, made one an alpha.

And the boy had already been bitten…

It was only a matter of time before he came back to them…

As their new pack alpha.

…..…..…..…..

Hermione was thrown roughly onto the stone floor. The chains prevented her arms from lowering, but it was enough for her head to smash onto the ground causing a sharp gasp to escape her.

Her head had already been injured, and the pain was making her feel sick.

Trochar had drained Hermione to the point of utter weakness, and yet she remained conscious. She felt the vampire's cold hands grabbing her and pulling her to her knees.

Hermione's vision blurred in and out of focus, but she could see Trochar inches from her face.

"Those eyes," Trochar whispered "Those golden eyes, so much like your murderous father's. Perhaps I should pluck them out and put them into a nice jar?"

Hermione looked up into the vampire's yellow orbs that held so much hatred.

"I have nothing to do with what Nicholas did to your clan!" Hermione hissed between her clenched teeth, trying to relieve her pain. "Your fight isn't with me!"

Trochar suddenly walked away from Hermione to lean against the opposite wall.

"But it is, don't you see?" Trochar spat with fustration lacing his voice "His golden blood runs through your perfect veins. And as such, so does his legacy of murder and deceit. I could taste him within you when I drank from you."

"I wanted to help you." Hermione could barely breathe.

"Nicholas Flamel is playing you like a chess piece in a game he knows he will win! He is an immortal, and as such cannot die…but you." Trochar smiled "you can."

Already Hermione could feel her wound repairing itself slowly.

"Although, it may take a little effort to do so." Trochar laughed "and by the time I'm finished with you, you'll understand that your beloved father is nothing more than a spider."

Hermione stared at the vampire blankly, refusing to make further conversation with him.

"Yes, a spider at the center of a web containing over 600 years of plots, people, and governments." Trochar laughed "He is connected to anything and everything…. but how can I explain 600 years of corruption to a child? I cannot."

Hermione continued to stare blankly at the vampire, refusing to respond.

She had faced monsters before.

It wasn't poetic. It never was. It was always just blood and screams. Always red and painful.

She remembered something her father had once told her.

"Never trust a survivor, Hermione." He had warned, as he tried to steer her friendship away from Harry "Not until you find out what they did to stay alive."

But she wanted to know every terrible thing Harry and Ron did, so that she could love them even more for surviving.

Trochar, growing angrier at her unresponsive demeanor, lunged forward grabbing her by her bloody hair and lifting her to her feet.

She could have put up more of a fight, but Hermione already resigned herself to whatever fate life would deal her now.

By now Fenrir must have been caught by the wolves.

She hated herself for the cold way she treated him in her heart. She wanted to spare him this fate, and yet life always seemed to demand a blood sacrifice from children and innocents.

She was supposed to save him…. Everyone.

Perhaps, time was fixed and could never be changed? Perhaps their mission was in vain?

Trochar pulled at her chains so Hermione had no choice but to hang without rest. Her arms and muscles screamed in protest as the chains pulled at her.

But she remained silent, still.

Hermione understood that she would be tortured horribly. She knew the vampire would draw it out. She knew she couldn't stay silent forever, but for now her silence gave her one thing she could have control over.

That was enough.

Anticipation shinned behind Trochar's eyes.

"Auferte omnen!" Trochar hissed, extending his white had towards Hermione.

Instantly, her clothes disappeared leaving her naked and terribly exposed. She tried not to shudder as the cold air hit her body.

"You may be somewhat innocent after all," Trochar mused, lifting Hermione's chin to study her expression of anger and shame "but your father isn't."

There was a moment Hermione felt inexplicable and strongly sensuous confusion when the perfume of Trochar's skin filled her nostrils. It was a hunting tactic that vampires used to lure in their prey. They sent, their eyes, their fierceness- all of it was intoxicating. How could it not be?

His hand raised once more, and, in the vampires, hand was conjured a black whip.

On the outside Hermione remained stoic, but inside she was terrified.

All she could think about was Lucius Malfoys laughter as he whipped her. She remembered the blows cutting through her skin.

"I could see a memory when I took in your blood." Trochar breathed, looking lustful and mad "I could see a whip…and your back. I could hear your screams…will you scream for me too?"

Hermione lunged at Trochar, even as the chains bit deeply into her flesh.

In a feat of evil, He moved back away from me, as if pulled by an invisible force

Trochar unfurled the whip, swinging it in front of her face sadistically.

And then Trochar moved faster than Hermione could see. It was then that she felt the whip slash across her breasts and belly.

The sound of her flesh being torn echoed through the cell, but Hermione refused to cry out.

The muscles on her neck and arms tensed as the strikes fell.

Fenrir…

Please be alive!

Did I saved him from his fate, or am I the result of the inevitable?

Was he still alive?

By the time the tenth whip fell against her skin, Hermione whimpered making Trochar hit her harder.

She swayed unable to stand any longer but was unable to rest. Her hair was soaked with blood, and the slashes across her chest slowly began to heal.

"Demon!" Hermione cried as Trochar waited for her to heal, only to strike her all over again.

It was hours before the vampire tired himself out and rolled the whip around his hand.

Hermione hung from her wrists, her breathing labored and tight as her wounds began to heal, again.

By this time, the marks healed themselves into scars. Trochar gave her another sadistic smile, lifting the whip to his lips, which was covered in blood, and licked it.

She would not give into fear, she would not give him the satisfaction!

Hermione howled, mad with rage. There were no tears, only anger.

For hours she fought against the binds, against the fall of each lash, until Hermione's feet would no longer support her. Having lost so much blood and magical energy that healed her repeatedly, she went limp.

Had it not been for the magical blood of the Flamel's, Hermione knew she would have been dead.

Her entire body ached even though her skin had healed. Her skin burned, escalating her into an unbearable level of pain. Her akin felt as thin as paper.

As Hermione closed her eyes, trying to block out the pain, she began to drift unconscious. She felt Trochar's cold fingers smoothing over her cheek gently, almost lovingly before she passed out.

Her one last wish being that Fenrir somehow managed to escape his fate.

"Dear God," Hermione prayed in her heart "Let Fenrir be okay…. let Harry and Ron come for me…. Please God, help me change our fate!"

It had been a long time since Hermione had prayed- perhaps to nothing…

but perhaps not.

….

"I received your letter, Lord Voldemort." The vampire Sanguini, eyeing the light at the end of Tom Riddle's wand with irritation "However, I only came to tell you never to contact me, or my master's clan again. You know how Lord Trochar feels about you, or haven't you learned your lesson?"

"What happened in the forest was unfortunate, but my intentions were pure." Tom said silkily, craning his head to the side to give the vampire a clearer view of his jugular.

Sanguini moved too quickly for Tom too see.

A gust of magic extinguished Tom's light, leaving him committed unmercifully to total darkness.

"Ha! Pure!" Sanguini laughed inches from Tom, playing with a lock of his hair "Neither of us knows such a word!"

It took everything in Tom not to strike out against the vampire, but all he could think about was Hermione Flamel…

No.

Hermione Grainger.

He didn't quite understand why he felt compelled to take her back. He didn't love the girl, and barely tolerated her. It was the sheer wave of possessiveness that urged Tom on.

"The revolution has already begun with Grindelwald." Tom smirked, licking his full lips "I know he has recruited all manner of creature. But he needs the support of wizards as well- preferably prominent wizards with connections."

With the most curious and poignant face, Sanguini stared at Tom.

"Take me to Lord Trochar." Tom spoke seriously "Allow me to make him a proper Blood Offering in myself, so that he would know my sincerity to the cause."

The vampire was silent for a moment before bursting out into peals of laughter.

"You're quite the silver-tongued snake, aren't you?" Sanguini chuckled "Fine, I'll take you to my master, if only to see him crush your skull in."

In one quick motion, Sanguini scooped Tom into his arms. One arm slip under Toms back and the other under his knees.

Tom didn't have time to sneer as Sanguini kicked off from the ground and flew impossibly fast through the night sky.