J.K. Rowling owns the characters.
R rated
Thnks for reviews :)
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In the corner of his eye Harry saw the fist of an unknown man coming towards him. As it collided with his face blackness overcame him as he was knocked out.
Harry awoke with his hands ties behind his back, which were then attached to a pole sticking up from the ground. The rough ropes of magical strings cut into his wrists, drawing blood and spilling it onto the ground. His back ached from the uncomfortable position and a pounding headache ran through his head from the punch he received earlier.
"Ah! So you are finally awake." A gruff from the side brought Harry's attention to the present.
Agrost watched the weedy boy try to turn in his binds so he could see his captors. The werewolf turned his back onto the boy and whistled to signal that the prisoner was a awake. Within no time the whole pack had arrived and were now watching Harry, eyes filled with greed as they knew a show was about to begin.
Muller walked forward and pulled Harry's head up by his hair. Big green orbs stared at the pack, darting back and forth in panic. Fenrir, who was standing over in the shadows, couldn't help but take in a deep breath as he saw the enchanting eyes.
"Here we have a murderer. This boy has been charged with the murder of third seat, Jay. Brother to myself and Agrost and son to Sara Ruddick." Muller announced to the pack. His tone was filled with mallice and although Muller couldn't wait to rip the boy to shreds, procedures had to be followed and the punishment would eventually be a pack decision.
It was a common misunderstanding that werewolves were riotous animals. No. Werewolves had laws, formalities and rules. Working together as a pack, they were actually very civilised.
"Mother, what do you suggest be a fitting punishment?"
Sara stepped into the inner circle. Although full of anger at the loss of her son, she couldn't help but feel pity at the young teenager before her. "We will hear his pleas. He has hunted in our alphas territory and will be questioned first. My alpha, you have first rights."
Fenrir left his shadowy corner to complete the formalities. An unwavering stare met his and Fenrir was disconcerted by it. Only fools and those wishing for death stood up to Fenrir Greyback. The same green eyes, which had only moments ago, taken Fenrir's breath away, glared at Fenrir with a cold, lifeless look.
Fenrir slowly circled the boy taking in every part of the petit figure. The spine jutted out from Harry's back in an awkward angle and Fenrir could count the small bumps if he wanted to. A sudden urge to lick and nip up and down the boys spine overcame Fenrir. He held his breath, trying to withhold the feeling and avoid the delectable scent that was flowing from the boys skin. Fenrir decided he was better off looking somewhere less appetizing and turned his back to the boy so he could continue circling him.
"Do you know who I am?" Fenrir asked. What Fenrir was really asking was why this boy was hunting in his, Fenrir Greyback's, territory.
Harry looked up at the large muscular man before him. Scars littered the mans muscled chest and it was obvious this wasn't a man to be reckoned with. Harry thought about the question he had just been asked. He didn't really care about who his captors were. He didn't really care about much right now. The tone of the question had been filled with arrogance and superiority; the man must have been someone Harry was supposed to know.
"No." Harry sighed.
The pack that was surrounding him, shuffled in a haughtily manner. They were all thinking the same thing: this boy is stupid; he doesn't know who he's dealing with.
"Perhaps I can enlighten you on the subject." started Fenrir. He wanted to invoke fear into the boy who was bound to the floor and yet dared to maintain eye contact with him. "I am Fenrir Greyback, maybe you recognize the name."
Fenrir Greyback…. Greyback... Who?… hmm, Fenrir Greyback. Harry knew he had heard the name but couldn't, for the life of him, remember where. The thought was eating him up and he was trying to rack his brains for where the name had been said.
Wait! Fenrir Greyback? THE FENRIR GREYBACK!!!! The ferocious werewolf who had gone around tearing peoples throat out and turning young children. The same Fenrir Greyback who had turned Remus Lupin. The man who was on Azkaban's most wanted list. The leader of the werewolves who supported Voldemort.
"Oh Shit. I'm screwed!" Harry muttered.
A dazzling grin appeared on Fenrir's face as he heard Harry's exclamation. Ah, so the boy knew who he was. Perhaps he still could break him yet.
Meanwhile in Harry's mind, he wasn't panicking about the fact that there was a crazy mass murderer, most wanted werewolf standing in front of him. No. The only thing Harry was thinking was that he was about to be handed over to Voldemort.
All of Harry's reasons for staying alive was to kill Voldemort and fulfil the prophecy. Harry was caught in between trying to kill himself out of guilt and to stop the monster he had become, and staying alive to complete his duty. And now the deaths of all those humans he had killed were for nothing because he was going to die at the hands of the dark lord. There would be no chance for Harry to kill him whilst tied to a pole, all his efforts were for naught and he consequently lost all hope.
Fenrir smelt the sudden wave of depression that the boy was emitting. It wasn't just on the smell that it was shown. The boys body now hung limp against the pole, his head hung and eyes closed as if awaiting the final blow. Fenrir sniffed the air again, he was surprised when he caught no hint of fear. No, this wasn't what he wanted. He wanted his victims screaming in terror, not staring with blank eyes that couldn't care less.
Fenrir tried again, wanting to get the response he wanted. "So you do know who I am. Well, you must no you have been hunting in my territory, you have killed a member of my pack and now you will suffer at my hand. The short amount of time that remains as your life is about to become a living hell."
"I s'pose." Harry grumbled, not really listening to the short speech.
Fenrir's prisoner was getting on his nerves. Wait, scratch that. Fenrir's prisoner was on his nerves. He wanted nothing more then to snap that scrawny neck and make a point that nobody doesn't fear Fenrir Greyback; of course this would mean that the prisoner would not have had time to fear him.
"DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!!" Fenrir roared out.
Harry looked up and his eyes once again met Fenrir's silver ones.
"Yes." Harry said, not a hint of insecurity in the tone. The answer was the honest to god truth.
Sara Ruddick was listening to the whole conversation between her alpha and son's murderer. She watched every emotion that flickered across the prisoner's face and analysed his every movement. Sara had already had her suspicions about the boy when they told her he was without a pack; but now she could see it before her: this boy believed himself to be a monster. He had no idea what a werewolf's life was like or how to control it. The boy was no murderer- just out of control, and an overwhelming feeling of pity swept over her.
"Alpha, will you let me speak to him?" Sara asked.
Fenrir nodded in approval before quickly sweeping back to the shadows, grateful for the chance to take a break would allow him to reign in his anger before he hurt somebody.
Sara bent down so she was at eye level with Harry. Her motherly feelings took over so her face was calm and her voice endearing. She wanted the boy to trust her.
"Where is your sire? You came without a pack, did you lose them?"
"…I don't have a pack and I don't know what a sire is." Harry answered. He liked this woman. She seemed kind and Harry relaxed. It's nice to see a kind face before death.
Members of the pack who were listening to the exchange, gasped in understanding when Harry answered the question. To not have a sire or pack would mean that this boy would have had no training in maintaining his newly found power. No wonder the boy was a mess, he couldn't control his wolf.
"Do you remember killing a wolf last night?"
Harry nodded and both Agrost and Mulller tensed. They were about to step forward and attack the boy when their mother turned and gave them a sharp glare, stopping them in their steps.
"That wolf was my son." Harry's head snapped up and absolute horror crossed his features. He was speaking to a relative of someone he murdered. It hurt just to be killing but to meet someone else he had affected was tearing him up.
"Now, what I want to know is if you meant to."
"NO! No. I didn't want to. I didn't mean to. I'm…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Blinking away his tears, Harry looked back down again.
"Why you bastard! Don't lie to me. HOW DARE YOU SAY MY BROTHER'S DEATH WAS AN ACCIDENT!!" Muller roared and ran towards Harry with murderous intent. His brother held him back along with another man.
Harry flinched at the accusations, keeping his head down.
"Calm down Muller. I want to speak privately for a minute." Sara stood she walked off to the side, away from the group. Muller, Agrost and Fenrir followed her.
"What is the problem, Sara?" Fenrir asked. He was still waiting to see some blood and was tired from all the fussing about.
"I have an idea for punishment…"