Hey all! Before you begin, I just want to make sure everyone is aware of the TRIGGERS in this story!

Rape, non-con and Stockholm Syndrome will all play heavy roles in this story and likely won't improve much as it progresses.

You have been warned.

Once again.

***TRIGGERS!***

Otherwise, I'd like to thank Kabg01 for her delightful beta services.

~~~~0000~~~~

Chapter 1

This wasn't supposed to happen. They had been so careful not to be followed that Harry and Hermione hadn't really considered that they were being waited for. It became horrifyingly clear though, after Voldemort's most prized horcrux leapt from the body of poor Bathilda Bagshot, intent on killing the pair. Scrambling to escape the house, Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him toward the nearest exit, a window, and attempted to apparate away. Unfortunately they found themselves landing in a bush below, leading the witch to suspect anti-apparition wards had been erected at some point after they arrived.

"Harry!" Hermione tried not to scream at her friend who was still struggling to rid himself of the bush's prickly branches. "We have to run!"

The snake was closing in on them as they raced down the road, occasionally trying, and failing, to apparate away.

"Hermione, where's my wand?" The Chosen One shouted over the adrenaline-laced blood rushing through their ears. The brunette witch's mouth formed a grim line as she glanced at him and again attempted to apparate.

"I-I think we landed on-" she was abruptly cut off by a stunning spell that came from somewhere behind them. They thought they only had to worry about the snake! But just as Harry was about to stop to help her, another stunner hit him square in the back.

It looked like Fenrir Greyback was going to have a Happy Christmas after all. After pocketing the witch's wand, he slung Undesirables Numbers One and Two over his shoulders, brought down the anti-apparition wards, and disappeared with a crack.

~~~~0000~~~~

Instead of appearing at Malfoy Manor, the werewolf arrived at a large clearing in the middle of some unexplored forest. It was late, so visibility was low, but fortunately his senses of smell and hearing brought him through the woods with ease. His two charges hung limp over his shoulders and contributed almost no weight with their burden. They were too thin. He would need to change that if his plans were to be successful. His trek took longer than he had hoped so late at night, but he finally arrived at a large wooden gate that rose almost fifteen feet high.

"Ian!" He called out to the top of the watch tower that stood next to the structure. Instantly, a face appeared in the darkness and smiled.

"Alpha?" He called back. "Is that you? Don't move, I'll let you in right away!"

Greyback huffed in annoyance for having to wait, but tried to reign in his temper. Ian hadn't known he would be back this late, so he really shouldn't fault him. As the gate cracked open enough for him to walk through, Ian beamed at him from the other side.

"Alpha! We're so glad you're back!" The shorter man was practically bouncing on his toes as he welcomed his Alpha home, unaware of the larger werewolf's fatigue. "What've you got there?"

"Don't worry about it," Greyback mumbled, shifting the slight weight on his shoulders. The other man nodded, not put out in the slightest, and waved his Alpha along, farther into the territory.

It was only around two in the morning, so nearly everyone was still in bed, which made the large werewolf's journey to his own home easier. It would be a long process if he had to stop every five feet for someone welcoming him back. As it was, he needed to make two stops already. After another ten minutes of walking beyond the gate, Fenrir finally made it to stop number one, a small structure that could have easily been used as a shed at some point in the past.

He made quick work of the lock on the door and entered the warm room inside. It was tidy, almost cozy, but simple. There was a bed, a table, a fireplace, and a screen door that led to the quaint washroom. It was on the bed that he deposited the witch first. She landed with a soft thud but made no sound or movement. Confident that she would not wake in the time it took him to leave the room, Fenrir turned and carried the Boy-Who-Lived back outside. He then carefully warded the building to be soundproof and stay locked until he returned.

Stop number two was only a few steps away, in a similar structure. There were in fact many of these shed-buildings scattered throughout the general area, all sharing similar features. The werewolf unlocked this door as well and made his way towards the bed of the similarly furnished room. Dropping the boy from his shoulders took little effort, but he was glad to be free of the discomfort that carrying him brought to his neck.

After stepping back and cracking the kinks out, he stretched his arms over his head and sighed. He glanced back down at the young man in front of him and a small grin alighted his features. It certainly was a Happy Christmas.

Slowly, he approached the bed once more, and saw that the Chosen One may have transitioned from being stunned to simply being asleep, and as his deep breaths made his chest rise and fall slowly, Fenrir could see the dark circles beneath the youth's eyes. He very likely needed a good night's rest; the Dark Lord had been hunting him for many months after all. But what many weren't aware of, was that the Dark Lord didn't need Potter dead, simply out of the way. After all, if the Savior wasn't around to kill him, then he had nothing to worry about. It was because of this that the dark wizard, in all his benevolence, had decreed that any Death Eater who captured Harry Potter would be able to keep him and do as they wished, as extra incentive to capture the boy.

And Fenrir Greyback wished to claim a mate. A willing mate. Preferably more than one. And he would make sure that the Chosen One and his witch friend were willing whether they liked it or not.

Gazing down at the raven-haired wizard, Greyback began to unbutton the youth's trousers and slide them down his thighs, taking special care to touch as much of the boy's skin as possible. He spied the slight bulge in his underwear and licked his lips. Yes, he would make a fine mate indeed. He continued to disrobe the wizard, pulling the trousers down all the way, before making quick work of the red underwear and hiking up his shirt.

The appendage hung limply, but Fenrir was determined to change that. Again, he made sure to check that the boy didn't stir awake as he trailed his hands up his legs, placing his palm firmly on the ballsack between the Savior's legs. Gently, he rolled them in his hand, before lowering himself so his face was on level with the boy's chest. Gripping one of Potter's thighs for balance, he flicked his tongue out to graze one of the nipples before him and continuing his ministrations on the lower half of his body. He felt the boy's cock twitch against his hand, and flicked the nipple again, garnering the same reaction. Fenrir smiled to himself. He would enjoy this very much.

Eager to get things moving along, he withdrew himself from the body before him and disrobed completely, before returning to his position above the wizard and cradling the boy's balls once again. This time though, he summoned a bottle of lube he had stored in the drawer of the small table near the wall. Generously applying some to his other hand he began to firmly stroke the boy's twitching cock and resume licking and nipping at his chest.

With each stroke and bite, the body below Fenrir began to grow hotter, but remained unconscious. As the seconds went by, the boy's breathing became faster and he uttered small whimpers.

"That's it, boy. You like this don't you?" Greyback said from above him, slickening his fingers with more of the gel.

Slowly, he moved the hand rubbing the boy's balls farther south, to meet the puckered flesh of his entrance. He traced the skin with one finger, before gently breaching it, stroking every inch as he slid the digit in further. Potter moaned at the intrusion and his eyebrows scrunched together in his sleep. He didn't wake though, so Fenrir massaged the boy's chute and pushed a second finger to join the first. The body squirmed below him and the werewolf growled in delight as the boy hardened in his hand.

It didn't take long before Fenrir had the Chosen one humping his cock into his fist as the werewolf pumped his fingers, now three of them, into the tight channel of his entrance. Perhaps the boy was still under some effects of the stunning spell from earlier because he didn't wake, even though he was clearly approaching his climax. It was at this point that Greyback drew back, coated his own stiff cock liberally with the lube and began to inch his cock into the body before him. He took extra care to go slowly so as not to damage his new prize. He planned on using it often after all.

The boy gasped at penetration and moaned as it slid farther into him. Suspecting he might be in some pain, Greyback brought the boy's legs up to hook over his shoulders, making the entranceway easier to accept him, before he pulled out most of the way and pushed back in a bit faster. Fenrir was panting too at this point, nearly overcome with the tightness of Potter's chute.

"Yes. Yes," He gasped as his strokes gradually turned into pounding. "Take my cock little bitch and like it. You're mine. Mine," he growled.

Greyback knew he would have to stay clearheaded for the final part of this, despite how much he wanted to give into his primal instincts and just pound away at the boy's ass until he'd broken every bone in the Chosen One's body. No, to properly complete his claim, he would have to make sure not to hurt him too badly and bite only when they came, which would be very, very soon.

Fenrir lowered himself further, forcing the writhing body on the bed to bend nearly in half. He licked at the boy's chest and made his way up to his neck, leaving small bruises where his love bites traveled. He heard a high whine break free from the boy's lips and, just as the pair climaxed together, Fenrir laved the spot where the boy's neck met his shoulder, and bit hard.

He roared his release and the cock trapped between them spurted its own come across their stomachs and chests. As he lay there, on top of the boy, he could taste the blood in his mouth and feel the magic of his claiming mark spread over the both of them and he sighed in contentment. It wasn't for another few minutes that Greyback withdrew from the tight passage, watching as his come leaked from the Savior's raw opening. Still, he did not wake.

Fenrir was exhausted, but was determined not to stick around. No doubt the boy would figure out what had happened when he woke, and the werewolf wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with that when it happened. Instead, he hastily performed a cleaning charm on himself, redressed, warded the room, and locked the door on his way out.

All of his activities had taken less than an hour and it was still too early in the morning for anyone else to be awake, with the exception of the odd sentry. Giving a slight wave to one who happened to be walking past, Fenrir made his way to another building, this one much bigger than the rest; he was Alpha after all.

The front door to his home was unlocked, as usual. No one in his pack would ever dare enter without his permission. He made his way to his own washroom and turned the shower on. As the water heated up, he undressed, eager to rid himself of the filth of tracking his two charges for over a month. His adventures had taken him all across the UK, offering him little time for personal hygiene.

The hot water ran over the sore muscles of the werewolf's back once he stepped inside. He grabbed a flannel that was hanging on a nearby hook and lathered himself with his favorite soap, relishing the clean feeling. He washed his cock last, retaining the scent of his new mate for as long as possible.

Once he finished, the water had gotten cooler and he stepped out of the large shower, dripping onto the floor. He gave little thought to his nudity, allowing himself to air dry as he exited his washroom and dropped himself onto his spacious bed. Soon, he told himself, his mates would enjoy this bed with him.

~~~~0000~~~~

Hermione stirred when a stray beam of sunlight peeked through a glass panel in the ceiling of her new abode. At first, she burrowed deeper into the comfort of a soft bed underneath her. However, once her mind woke more fully, her eyes snapped open and she sprang into a sitting position. She found herself alone in the small room, with only a modest fire crackling in the grate for company. Glancing around, she was unable to find her wand and determined that whoever had brought her there must have taken it. With what little she had at her disposal, she began searching for an escape.

It must have been two hours before the witch decided to take a small break. Having found no plausible chance of breaking through the front door, she had begun trying to reach the glass window in the ceiling. She wasn't tall enough however, so had tried to MacGyver a solution to her problem. After the two hours, her table, chair and the bed linens were all stacked on top of each other to reach the ceiling. It was taller than it had appeared though, and she still couldn't reach.

She had been sitting on the bed for a few minutes when she heard a rustling at the door. Had someone come to kill her? Turn her over to Voldemort? She didn't think it was either, at least, if it was, then why would they keep her in a reasonably nice prison? Grabbing the only thing she could manage to turn into any sort of weapon, Hermione pulled the lightweight chair off of the table and held it in front of her in defense.

The door opened and in walked the most notorious werewolf in all of Britain, Fenrir Greyback. Had he been the one to kidnap her? Where was Harry? She gripped the back of the chair more firmly, making sure the legs aimed at the monster before her looked as threatening as possible.

"Hello, little witch. I see you're awake," Greyback shot her a toothy grin that looked almost feral.

"Where am I?" Hermione wasted no time with pleasantries, but she watched the man make his way around her and place a tray of food that she hadn't noticed him carrying before on the table she had moved. If she hadn't been standing in front of a deadly werewolf, she might have noticed that it smelled heavenly.

"We're in our territory," he answered simply, turning back to her from his new spot in the center of the room.

"Where's Harry." Greyback chuckled at how she demanded these answers instead of asking nicely. It might be endearing now, but he would have to train that out of her for later.

"Your Savior is here too. You'll see him eventually, I think."

"You think," she held the chair up higher.

"Well, it all depends on how good you two are." The girl scoffed at him and took a daring step forward, clearly trying to show that she wasn't afraid of him. Her scent told a different story.

"I suppose you'd love for me to grovel at your master's feet, wouldn't you. Well, it's not going to happen!" With a burst of reckless courage, the witch thrust the chair forward, aiming for the werewolf's head with its legs, and made a run for the door he had entered in. Of course, she found it locked once again, and she was now unarmed with an angry werewolf. She hadn't realized that she completely missed her target when she threw the chair, and that Greyback watched in amusement as she attempted to escape. He stormed up behind her as she struggled with the doorknob and slammed his palms against the frame when he reached her, causing her to jump in surprise as she turned to face him, finding his only inches from hers.

"It's not the Dark Lord you'll be groveling for, Sweeting." With a growl, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and nearly dragged her to the small bed. She began to scream as his clawed fingers dug into her scalp and she was roughly thrown on the stripped mattress. As soon as she landed, she scrambled back towards the headboard, falling off the side and banging her knee on the floor. Greyback laughed heartily at her attempts to flee, knowing she didn't stand a chance. She must have realized this as well because she had even begun to cry.

As the witch pushed off of the floor to get away, he grabbed her by the arm, pulled her in close, and pinned it behind her back. Her back was now facing him, with her arm trapped between them, and her sobs grew louder as Greyback used his free hand to wrap around her front and cup her breasts. She screamed again when his hand moved farther south, cupping the area between her legs and rubbing her through her jeans. It was then that he began to unbutton them and shift them down her legs. Of course, she struggled the whole time, determined not to let him get his way so easily. Fenrir was fine with that for now though. Before long, she would crave his touch.

Once her jeans had been pushed down to her knees, the werewolf was able to feel the soft cotton of her knickers. He used the hand that traveled over her body to hold her harder against him, so that he could use his dominant hand to rid himself of his own trousers. Once he had kicked them off, he ground his cock in the valley of her cheeks through her knickers. He had chosen to forego underwear for this very reason, relishing the sensation of the young woman in front of him.

Fenrir didn't much care to take her standing the way they were and it would likely make claiming her a tad more difficult, so he shuffled her forward a few steps and forced her to bend over the side of the bed. She screamed and struggled, of course, but he paid little attention to it. He instead focused again on rubbing her through the thin cloth separating them. She struggled against his touch, bringing her knee up to block the movement of his hands, but despite her protests, he could feel an undeniable dampening of the cloth beneath his hand. Whether she liked it or not, she was becoming aroused by his ministrations.

When he next moved to peel off her knickers, she screamed some more. The obscenities spewing from her mouth should never be tolerated by an Alpha and he would make sure she never uttered them again, but for now, he had a goal set in mind, so he brought the underwear to join her bunched up jeans, and shoved her chest into the mattress, muffling her protests. When Fenrir was confident that she wouldn't struggle more than one arm could handle, he brought his hand back to her mound, slipping past the lips to the now-slick nub beneath her folds.

She began to gasp between her sobs after a few moments of rubbing, and flinched when he stroked her on her most sensitive spot. Through her tears, Fenrir could see a flush come over her and he could smell her arousal in the air. Farther south his finger went and, when he reached the entrance to her cunt, he stifled a groan. She was so wet, despite her struggles against him.

"No!" She screamed again when he slipped a finger into her. "No no no no no…" She repeated dejectedly into the fabric of the mattress as he continued his gentle fingering of her pussy. He mostly did this for the entertainment of watching her deny what her body clearly wanted. He could already tell that it was more than ready to accept him.

Reluctantly, he withdrew his fingers and lined his cock up with her entrance from behind. When she felt his cockhead gracing her folds, she screamed one last time and he roughly pushed into her. Her sobs grew in volume for the first few thrusts, before quieting to soft whimpers once more. Every other thrust, a groan began to join the symphony of noises she made and her walls began to flutter in anticipation of her unwanted release.

In preparation for what was to come, Fenrir lowered himself so he was lying almost entirely on top of her, with his lips to her neck, where it met her left shoulder. He kissed and licked the spot he would mark as he stroked her clit two-three-four more times. She involuntarily ground against his hand and backwards onto his cock and screamed as her climax rushed over her. Fenrir's hit him as well and, as he did with the boy, his sharp teeth broke the skin at the base of her neck, marking her as his.

She continued to cry as he bottomed out inside her, his prick twitching with every spurt of come. When he was sure he was done, Fenrir slowly slid out of her, once again admiring the leaking fluid escaping from her spent entrance and the shiver of magic as their mate bond settled. When he let her go and rose to stand, she fell to the floor in defeat, choking on her tears.

"You're a monster," he heard her whisper after he pulled his trousers back up and made his way to the exit.

"That may be, but at least I get what I want." He smirked at her from over his shoulder and glanced at the bed that had been stripped of its linens, to the still steaming meal he had brought for her. "Have something to eat, Sweeting. You're skin and bones." And with those final words, Hermione Granger found herself alone once more.

Once Greyback was sure the door was securely shut, he made his way back to the kitchens to fetch some breakfast for his other mate. As he had done with the witch's meal, he collected a number of healthy options and a glass of juice. Again, just as he had done with the girl, he pulled a small vial from his pocket and let just a drop fall into the glass.