A/N: Hello lovely people. Here we go again. Another story inspired by the prompts in DEE.

WARNING: None as of yet.

Prompt words:

"Fenrir Greyback, "Are you supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood?", Hermione Granger, "I'm the Big Bad Wolf."

#betalove: A huge thank you to Gryffinkitty!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.


The bars closed with a resounding clank. He stumbled and fall, scraping his hands on the ground in front of him. His heightened senses didn't help. The stench made him nauseated. A part of him thought that he would have prefered Azkaban over this any day.

"Welcome home." A voice behind him addressed him sardonically. Slowly he turned around, his muscles protesting faster movement. His eyes narrowed when they settled on the woman before him. She looked out of place, dressed in her smart pants and a dark red blouse.

"Witch." He grumbled, his throat seizing at the sound pressed through it.

"Greyback." The smirk pulling at her lips made him sneer. He knew he was the caged wolf here, but he was feral, dangerous and he couldn't care less what would happen to him now. He bared his teeth, growled like the animal he was. A scent filtered through his anger, enticing and warm.

"Where did you leave his pack?" The witch asked, her eyes traveling along the papers clutched in her hands in front of her chest. The silence following her question was deafening.

"Well?" She pressed, anger lurking just behind that one word.

"Erm… they attacked us and we fought them off. Some of them are dead." The growl leaving her throat made the man in the cell lift an eyebrow. He took a deep breath, her anger a spicy undertone in the stench around him.

"You idiots!" She exclaimed in rage, her wand suddenly appearing in her hand. With a swish the guard fell to his knees, a shriek of pain piercing the present people's ears. The man in the cell was surprised that she wasn't aware that they slaughtered his pack. Interesting, he thought.

"Haven't I told you to spare them? We could have used them, you dim-witt." Her voice was low, scratching. Greyback smirked slightly. Ah, so that's how it is…

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger." The guard pressed out when she lifted the curse. The witch stared him down a bit longer, then she stood up straight again and let her eyes focus on the man in the cell.

"You may leave." She commanded. A few guards scrambled back to the entrance of the complex, but the guard that was still clutching his ribcage, stood rooted. Greyback watched how her eyes clouded and a dangerous glint entered them.

"Didn't I make myself clear enough?" The guard swallowed, the fear in his sweat waking the animal inside Greyback. His wolf purred in his mind.

"Yes, Miss Granger, but Auror Potter made himself clear. We shouldn't let you alone with him." His voice wasn't a stutter and the werewolf could respect him for that.

"Auror Potter isn't here yet and if he feels like he should reprimand you, you can send him my way." Her hand shooed him away in an annoyed gesture. The man didn't move. Greyback thought, he was either stupid or brave, or both. A dangerous combination.

"Leave. Now." The command in her scratchy voice settled in Greyback's bones and it seemed to finally reach the guard. He scurried away and suddenly the witch and the wolf were alone.

With measured steps she closed in on the cell, her cloak trailing behind her. Her movements disturbed the heavy fabric and he saw the deep red of her blouse mirrored in the inside of her cloak. Her feminine hands grabbed the bars and it seemed she didn't care that rust would color her hands an ugly brown-red.

"Fenrir." She mumbled and there was a deep longing that made his stomach tighten. He pulled his eyes away from her hands, these delicate hands, fragile hands and fixed his amber eyes on her whiskey-colored ones. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up, squatting in front of the bars. If he would lift his arms, he would reach her.

"Hello there, Hermione." He growled, the voice of his wolf and his own mixing into a timbre that made her close her eyes. The werewolf smirked.

"I'm… I'm so sorry…" She muttered and perplexed he watched a tear travel down her porcelain cheek. His wolf crooned, the sound escaping his hurt throat in a whine. It desperately wanted to calm her down. Fenrir growled.

"Didn't you want them to be dead?" He asked, his eyes slits in his face. Hermione pried her eyes open in shock, shaking her head fiercely.

"No. These poor wolves, all the pain…" A shudder took over her body, made the bars rattle. More tears ran down her cheeks, her crying coloring them a healthy red. Fenrir heard her blood rushing through her body, more felt than heard her heart beating in rhythm with his own. What an interesting development, he thought.

"We have to get you out of here. And soon. The moon's approaching. Only a few days…" She trailed off, her voice still scratchy and heavy with emotions. Her eyes were fixed behind him. Probably on the small bar covered hole that couldn't even be described as a window. With difficulty he threw a glance behind himself. He could feel the pull, the tide of the moon in tandem with the strength of his wolf.

"Why would you help me, witch?" Greyback growled and settled more comfortably on his heels, his weight balanced on his footpads. The cold of the stone cell creeped into his bones even though his elevated heat protected him against most changes in the weather. The question he had asked not because he was clueless, but he wanted to check how honest the woman he knew as a girl was.

Instead of answering, her eyes flashed amber. Her mouth opened revealing elongating teeth. Before a snout could form, she stopped the transformation. The older man was intrigued. It needed a lot of self-control to be able to do that and even more to do it so far away from a full moon. The implications clouded his eyes in lust.

"I see." He said, his voice a grumble between them. He pushed himself up, towering over the witch in front of him and closed the distance with a single step. The bars were too close to each other to really reach through them, but he put his large hands down on her feminine ones. The electric shock sent a shiver through both of them.

"I'll have to think of a distraction, but I promise I'll get you out of here." The determination in her voice made his wolf preen. Her breath puffed against his bare chest, goosebumps appearing on his arms. He shuddered.

"Good." He felt her hands turn around in his, the fingertips moving along his rough skin, caressing it as if she wanted to assure herself she was still there. Watching her with narrowed eyes they stood in silence. Her nails scratched along his wrists. The sharp pain traveled enticingly along his nerves. A distant metallic sound pulled her out of her ministrations and she stood back. Her eyes were filled with fear, then they seemed to gain a dull shimmer. She had closed herself off.

"Hello, Harry." She said and crossed her arms. The wizard closed in on them, his face all sharp angles in the bright light of the lamp above them. His cloak looked expensive. Intricate stitching formed into the symbol of the Ministry told anyone who hadn't read the monthly article about the hero and savior that he occupied a high position in the Minister's cabinet. Fenrir was amused by her open display of mistrust. If he remembered correctly they once were friends. What had changed, the wolf mused.

"Mione, I thought I made myself clear." The man pressed out through thin lips. He didn't seem to care that someone else was listening in on them. In fact, he just threw Greyback a dismissive glance. He growled deep in his throat, his will to dominate and punish the wizard for his actions coursing through his veins.

The witch changed her stance, aggression visible in every line of her body. She took a deep breath though and unclenched her hand a bit around her wand. The wolf inside Fenrir was disappointed. Potter sighed.

"What are you doing here anyway? Remus said it wouldn't be healthy to see him." His reprimand was delivered loftily. Even without knowing the woman in front of him very well, Greyback knew that was the wrong way to speak to her. He had gathered it after only a few minutes with her. As if to prove him right, the man flew back against the wall and stayed there. A gurgling sound left him. The witch hadn't even used magic.

"Careful, Potter." She spat, the knuckles of the hand around his throat white. Her scent changed, infiltrated the space around the wolf in the cell, made him strain against his trousers. He growled.

"I may not be able to hurt you with magic but I'm still a lot stronger than you." She bared her teeth in an animalistic display, her face closing in on his face. Harry tried to avoid her, pressing the left side of his face against the stones behind him. Hermione sniffed him and with a satisfied smirk let him go. His fear tasted sweet on her tongue, made her swallow in lust. His coughing was music to her enhanced hearing.

Harry picked himself up, his hands brushing away the dirt on his cloak to hide how they trembled when he could breath again. He cleared his throat and looked up, but avoided looking one of his best friends in the eyes.

"Hermione…" He began softly and the woman flinched. Intrigued Fenrir moved forward a bit more, afraid to miss any part of their interaction that would give him a clue at what exactly was going on. The witch crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised a mocking eyebrow.

"It's just… I'm worried about you." The wizard settled on an empty apology, his words hollow. Hermione swallowed thickly, bile rising in her throat. It was like acid running through her veins.

"Worried you say. Afraid you mean. Don't think I'm stupid." Her voice had lost some of the bite, but was still distant in regards to him. Cold even.

"You shouldn't be near him…" His voice was back to its commanding undertone. Hermione felt her back go rigid, her muscles clenching all throughout her body. It was a credit to her self-control that she hadn't ripped his throat out yet. She decided not to comment on it.

"I'm the Head of the Control and Regulations of Magical Creatures." Matter-of-factly always seemed to work between them nowadays. Sometimes even she was too tired to continue fighting. A soft purr, too low for any human ears, made her relax slightly.

"You are. But you are also a werewolf because of him. You obey him." Hermione growled at that and Fenrir couldn't hide his amusement. His deep chuckle penetrated the heavy tension. He saw Potter grit his teeth.

"Apart from that, he was a supporter of Voldemort and because of that, this falls into the legislative of the Auror Department." A strained smirk pulled the corners of her lips upwards.

"He doesn't carry the Dark Mark-" She was interrupted.

"Hermione, you can't be serious!" Typical, she thought to herself, glee glinting in her eyes.

"You were there! You saw the wolves-!" She lifted one of her hands and the boy with the disheveled hair fell silent.

"May I remind you that grudges aren't legal proofs? That the evidence you claim to have are statements from people far too traumatized to remember every face on the battlefield? Or shall we talk about Fenrir Greyback commanding his pack to stay out of the fight? A pack you-" Her voice echoed in the corridor, uncomfortably loud and laced with rage. For a second she averted her eyes. When Harry was faced with them again, he took a step back.

In the blink of an eye, she stood before him, cloak swishing around her small frame. He flinched, scared and was sure she would attack him again. But she just pointed a finger at his chest, bored the appendix into it. Perplexed he saw tears gathering in her eyes.

"You made them kill this pack. Without reason. And it wasn't just his pack." Her free hand waved to the man behind the bars.

"It was Remus' pack as well, and it was… it was" She swallowed thickly, narrowed her eyes, "my pack." Her hands fell back, feeling empty and Harry swallowed, empathy for her circumstances and regret for his actions in the far past and the killing of the pack clogging his voice. He closed his eyes for a moment. Hermione gritted her teeth when he opened them again. Disappointed that she - even for a few seconds - thought that she would have her brother back. There was no connection between them, no emotional link showing in the depth of his eyes. They were filled with coldness. He brushed past her, his shoulders in a display of his own anger connecting with hers.

"You may speak to him. But if I find you close to him again, I'll take it up with the Minister." She didn't reply just waited until the sound of the door closing behind him reassured her that he was gone. Taking a deep breath, she tried to sort out her scattered feelings. When she was as calm as she ever could be with a second mind in her body and the presence of too many distrustful people around her, she started pacing. Movement made her think better.

"I've to think of something else. He's suspicious enough, he won't allow me to visit Fenrir again. What to do… what to do." She muttered under her breath, her hands going through her wild hair. A growl made her turn around sharply, her eyes dark in her pale face. Greyback stood - a mountain of a man - just behind the bars, his hands clenched around the them. The metallic groaning made her aware that he was angry. Recognizing it, she felt the pressure in her mind as well. Moving forward, her hands laid down on his.

"I would know if I've turned you." He said. It was underlined with a command that she wouldn't ignore even though it hadn't the same effect on her as it would have on other wolves.

"You didn't. Not directly. It was an… accident." Fenrir liked that she was so forthcoming and allowed his fingers to intertwine with hers. He wanted to run his hands all over her, taste her, bite her. But he couldn't - not yet, at least. If her plan worked, he would be out of here soon. His wolf growled in urgency.

"I experimented with your saliva. I wanted to find out what exactly - which component - triggered the transmutation of the genetic structure. I… " She frowned, her lips pursed into a frown that spoke of anger.

"I wanted to help Remus. He has a son, you know. And his lycanthropy takes so much out of him…" A hollow laugh followed her explanation.

"I only started to understand why he was slowly wilting. Why the transformation took so much out of him." Fenrir hummed, one of his hands grabbing a curl, wrapping it around his fingers. She leaned into the sensation, closing her eyes. When she continued her voice was softer.

"Stupid man. He rejects his gifts, suppress his senses even in his human form. It's no wonder his wolf rebels when he does everything in his power to make him deaf and blind. He doesn't work well with other wolves as well. He isn't socialized. It took too long until he accepted me."

"He was stubborn even as a cub." The man before her said, his voice a low grumble reverberating against the stone walls. The witch sighed.

"I have to go. I'll make sure I'll get you out of here. I… sort of have a plan." She avoided his eyes when he tried to make contact. He pulled a bit more forcefully at her curl. She hissed, but her whole body closed the few millimeters to the cell. He sniffed, once, and couldn't suppress the dark chuckle escaping him. A moment later he was serious again.

"Sort of a plan." He mused, his eyes fixed on her cheek, following the movement of his pointer finger until it rested just above her pulse point. A strong, fast rhythm showed him everything he needed to know.

"You have to trust me." She mumbled, her head falling to the side to give him better access. A purr left her parted lips. The urge to taste her nearly overwhelmed him.

"Trust," he snorted and ended all bodily contact to her. Hermione whimpered in protest.

"Did trust help you? Stopped your friends from killing my pack? Our pack?" The questions were clenching her heart. She understood where he came from. Trust was dangerous. She once trusted two boys with everything she was. Look where it left her. Hermione shook her head and held her hand open. Even in the dim light the wolf could see the scars. He grasped her arm tightly, his nails boring into her skin and pulled it closer to his eyes.

"Shackles." He observed aggressively and turned away. Some part of him didn't want to let her see the beastial side of him. Not yet anyway.

"Yes. But that's beside the point now." Both of her hands clenched around the bars, her eyes imploring him to listen to her. Fenrir threw her a look over his shoulder. Hermione's lips turned into a small smile. Who would have thought he would be so amiable about listening to her.

"Maybe we both can't trust humans anymore. Maybe, we have to rely on something that is more instinct, closely-knit and not breakable." He pondered her words for a moment. She was right. They both were wolves, sometimes more than humans. And his saliva turned her. She was bound to obey him on some level at least. He smirked.

"Alright, witch." Fenrir snorted when he saw her blink as if she couldn't believe it worked. A question struck him then. For how long was she a wolf herself now? Before he could voice it, he heard her shuffle away. He turned around and his wolf was deeply satisfied that he could see and smell her reluctance to go.

"I'll see you soon." She mumbled and within a few seconds was out of sight.

"Hurry." He mumbled to himself and sat down in the corner of the room.


Thanks for reading! Review please!