Title: Live by Slytherin Summer
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Weekly Drabble Competition: Hermione x Fenrir Greyback WINNER WEEK 15
2017 Event: 365 Day Drabbles
Prompts: 268 – savage, 290 – razor
Summary: In the spring of 1998, instead of capturing her, Fenrir Greyback rescues Hermione from the Snatchers.
Final word count: 495
Never in Hermione Granger's eighteen years of living had she ever imagined the terrifyingly savage and brutal monster, known as Fenrir Greyback, who was more beast than human, more carnal than any other predator would truly save her.
Her heartbeat strummed rapidly against her chest while she remained cradled in between the vicious-looking man's large arms as his strong legs carried them towards the thick forest with inhumane speed that everything passing them was nothing but a blur.
"Greyback…" Hermione didn't move any closer as the werewolf alpha gently laid her on her feet when he knew the scene was safe.
"Where are you going?" She asked, somewhat hesitant to approach him as the tall bulk of a man started striding off the opposite direction.
Fenrir turned around and gazed at the witch amusingly. Hermione looked as if she couldn't decide whether to be frightened or suspicious of his actions.
"Some place dark and scary with creatures like me," he answered and a crooked smile spread across his face, exposing his many sharp, pointed teeth that made her flinch involuntarily.
He didn't know what came over him or why he saved her but he acted on impulse as soon as he felt it. It was a familiar sensation, something older than love… affection…yearning
It awakened his primal, bestial instincts toward the muggleborn and that was why he needed to pay a little visit to his pack knowing Voldemort would soon learn of his deception.
Fenrir cracked the knuckles of his long, razor claws, loathing the fact that he had to flee from the upheaval between Scabior and the rest of the Snatchers. He was not in his full form and he couldn't take the risk of having Hermione hurt.
An animalistic, bloodcurdling growl escaped his throat and shook the quiet forest. Why did it matter if the Mudblood got hurt? What was wrong with him?
The aggravated werewolf was snapped out of his conflicting thoughts when he heard the young witch speak to him.
"Be safe," Hermione spoke clearly of concern, masking the evident fear written on her face. "I don't want you to die."
It was a soft whisper, a gentle caress. And she was now staring at him, deep into his penetrating blue eyes as if she was trying to find the last sliver of hope and humanity from the man he once was because of his solitary act of kindness.
Fenrir was left speechless and blinked at her dumbfounded. He never realized that a human, a creature he was succumbed to despise, of whom who had cursed him to die for all the turmoil he had brought upon them. In the pitch blackness of this girl's innocent eyes, she wanted him to live…