Chapter Six

Where It All Started

Wow, this is awkward, Harry thought to himself. He was sitting by the lake with Ron and Hermione, trying to ignore the tension that filled the air like a Dementor's presence.

"Lovely day isn't it?" Hermione asked, her voice slightly wobbly and high. For the entirety of the time they had been sat here, she kept finding something to say to eliminate the uncomfortable silence.

Harry nodded and Ron mumbled in agreement.

There was a small silence before another conversation starter was asked.

"S-so what lessons do you two have tomorrow?" she said timidly.

Even through the awkwardness, Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"You've already asked that one, Hermione."

"Oh," she said, blushing furiously.

Harry's gaze flickered from Hermione to Ron for a split second and their eyes met. Ron had been smiling too, but as soon as they made eye contact, they averted their gazes.

"Oh, this is getting silly," Hermione said with a sigh as she stood up.

"Where are you going?" Ron demanded.

"I'm leaving you two alone so you can talk about this. I'm sick of making conversation."

She grabbed her bag and stormed back up to the castle.

Harry watched her go for as long as possible, not wanting to turn back to where it was only him and Ron. When she had completely disappeared from sight he slowly turned around to find Ron staring at him, his blue eyes looking strained.

"Harry –"

"Ron –"

"No, wait," Ron said firmly. "I need to say something."

Harry looked at his best friend's desperate expression and nodded. Ron breathed in deeply through his nostrils as though he was bracing himself for a game of Quidditch.

"I know you probably hate me right now – even I hate me – so I understand if you don't want to forgive me yet. But there's one thing I want you to know; I didn't tell the guys about you and... Greyback because I wanted to; I just... it slipped out of my mouth before I realised what I'd said. I would never betray you in spite, mate, even if you'd done something awful to me. Not saying you would, mind..."

Harry felt his mouth twitch at Ron's concluding sentence; the boy always babbled when he was uncomfortable.

"Ron, I don't hate you," Harry said honestly. "It's just, with everything that's happened recently with Fenrir and this mark, not to mention Dumbledore... what you did sort of topped it off. But," he added quickly, "I understand why you did it. Peer pressure and all that."

The two boys grinned at each other nervously. Then Ron held his hand out.

"So, we're good?"

Harry nodded and took it.

"We're good."

"Shall we go and find Hermione then?" Ron asked.

"Library?" Harry suggested with a smirk.

"Where else," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

As they left the shady spot under the tree, they missed the grinning blonde boy hiding behind the trunk.

*F-H*

Draco's mind was whirring from the things he'd heard from Potter and Weasley. He tried putting all the strange words together, wanting to know what Potter was hiding.

Firstly, Weasley had mentioned Greyback... Draco knew of him; his father had told him how dangerous that wolf was. Then Potter had said 'Fenrir' which confirmed that Draco hadn't misheard the name. However, what made his brain tick most was when Potter had said, 'everything that's happened recently with Fenrir and this mark...' Draco couldn't help but feel curious about this; was that bruise on Potter's neck something more than a love bite from one of his adoring, Gryffindor fan girls?

He might have to do a Granger and research in the library – anything that could knock the spirit out of that worthless Gryffindor was worth spending time on.

*F-H*

The next morning found Harry screaming. Again.

It was the same dream as yesterday, but instead of feeling scared after waking up, he felt frustrated and embarrassed. Even the dreams about Voldemort never made him scream this much. However, he had decided to put silencing spells up, not only for his roommates' benefits, but also to save him the humiliation.

Sighing, he rubbed his face and looked at the clock on his bedside table; it was six o'clock on a Monday morning. He could go back to sleep for another hour but he doubted that he would even be able to, and he had no intention of lying on his back dwelling on his situation.

So, instead he got out of bed, dressed and made his way down to the Great Hall. The hall wasn't empty but luckily it wasn't too crowded either; there was only a few students, all scattered around on various house tables. The Gryffindor table was empty apart from a few second and third years.

Harry took a seat far away from them and poured himself some juice. However, before he could reach for the toast a hand grabbed his shoulder and a voice hissed in his ear, "Alright, wolfy?"

Harry froze before turning to see who had spoken. His green eyes met grey ones.

"Malfoy," he whispered, his eyes wide. Hastily he composed himself. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to let you know, Potter," Draco said, "that I know."

Harry swallowed and licked his dry lips.

"Know what?" he managed to ask.

"Your little secret," Malfoy whispered in his ear. "I know the meaning behind that thing on your neck, as well as who gave it to you. Weasley will be crushed to learn you're a werewolf's bitch, won't she?"

He laughed in immense joy before stalking away.

Harry couldn't think. His hands were shaking and he felt his eyes well up. Hurriedly, he left the Great Hall, deliberately not looking left where Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table wearing a victorious smirk.

He ran out of the castle, across the courtyard, down the grassy hill and didn't stop until he reached the Forbidden Forest.

He looked up at the vast growing trees and thought to himself why he had come here.

Hermione said I shouldn't isolate myself, a voice in his head said.

But by the time you get back to the castle, Malfoy would have told everyone, said another, louder voice. You'll be isolated from their disgust, anyway.

Not from my friends! But this voice seemed to be drowned out by the harsh words from the other.

Suit yourself, said the stronger voice, and, in his minds eye, Harry pictured a figure that looked a lot like a mix between himself and Fenrir Greyback, smirking. Go back to the castle and face the rumours and spite you'll receive, then.

Harry didn't know what to do. He took a few steps away from the forest before staggering forwards again. He dawdled in front of the trees for what had to have been five minutes before he walked with determined haste into the woods.

It was only now that he realised Fenrir could still be in there, but the thought seemed more appealing than dangerous. So, unsure of his actions, he let his feet wander the forest aimlessly.

After twenty minutes of walking Harry found himself just outside a familiar looking clearing. He gulped and stared at the grassy circle as he remembered his encounter with the werewolf.

Slowly and shakily he fought his way through the trees that seemed to guard the glade. He thought back to how quick he had crossed them the first time when he was running for his life; he hadn't cared about getting his robes torn or his face scratched on the branches then.

Finally, after lots of twig snapping and branch bending, he was inside the open area. He closed his eyes, remembering the fear that had coursed through him as he stood here before, waiting for Fenrir to do something.

Harry shook his head, trying to get rid of the hysteria that was steadily building inside of him. He then noticed something in the middle of the clearing. There was an imprint on the long grass which must have been from where Harry had been thrown to the floor. Slowly he walked over to it and knelt down in the meadow-like grass.

Theoretically this place should scare him – it was where this madness had all started – but instead he found it... comforting. It was as though he was visiting a precious place that held fond, childhood memories.

He looked at his wristwatch and realised that the Great Hall would be completely filled now. Surely Draco had already told his Slytherin gang what he knew; after that, the fact that Harry belonged to Fenrir Greyback would spread like a forest fire.

The thought of going back and facing all the rumours, whispers and pointing fingers was almost too much to tolerate.

I'm sure I can miss one lesson, Harry thought to himself as he pulled his knees up to his chest. McGonagall said I need to relax a lot more, anyway.

Then, for some strange reason, he found himself positioning his body so he was lying down in the sunken-in grass. He felt safe being hidden by the long grass around him; it was as though it was some sort of protective barrier from the rumours that were flying around Hogwarts. All he needed now was someone to protect him from the people inside the school.

*F-H*

Fenrir leant back against the cave wall feeling thoroughly bored. And deprived. And – unsurprisingly – horny.

He was hiding out in a cave in the mountains surrounding the wizard village, Hogsmeade.

At this moment in time he was so frustrated at himself for leaving the school grounds; the urge to see his mate again was overpowering. He had known that Harry would feel this way for him, but he'd always thought the dominant partner would have it easier.

Obviously not.

It wasn't only the need to see Potter, but to touch him again... to feel that soft skin beneath his coarse hands, and to perforate it with his teeth.

It came as quite a surprise when he felt his cock twitch at the thought of Harry and his perfectly pale, smooth skin... He'd noticed in the forest that the boy had an almost ethereal glow, just like the moon; that thought only made him harder.

Growling to himself he looked down at his tattered, torn trousers, not surprised to find a bulge where his erection was pressing. Without thinking about what he was doing, he yanked them off and got down onto his knees, one hand grasping a large boulder in front of him, the other already attending to his cock. Furiously and roughly he pumped himself, imagining his hand was Harry's tight arse which was up in the air for him...

After several minutes of violent rubbing and rasping his mate's name, he gave a raucous roar as he felt himself release; his hand that was clenching the boulder tightened until his knuckles turned white, and he threw his head back gasping for breath.

"Not... good... enough," he muttered to himself.

He pushed himself up, not bothering to put his Muggle trousers back on seeing as he wasn't going out in the village.

He moved to the entrance of the cave, ignoring the mess he was making from his come, and leant his head on the wall. He stared at the castle that held his mate and hoped Harry would feel his gaze on him.

*F-H*

Harry jerked awake, unable to remember when he'd fallen asleep. He wasn't sure what had woken him but – as strange as it sounded – he felt as though someone had been watching him. He sat up and glanced around nervously, expecting to find a pair of amber eyes staring at him. However, he could neither see nor hear a thing. This didn't help him calm down – it would be less frightening if he knew for definite that there was something near him, rather than guess there was.

"F-Fenrir?" he croaked. The name rolled off his tongue easily and he felt a spark of excitement run through him as he imagined the werewolf emerging from the trees to see him.

Am I weak for giving into this urge? he thought to himself. It's only been a couple of days and already I'm yielding to the mark.

He held his head in his hands and let his mind drift...

Thousands of eyes were staring at him in repugnance and distain, blaming him for his own fate. He tried to get through the crowd but he was constantly poked, shoved, kicked and whacked. He tried telling them to stop but he only received insulting remarks.

"You werewolf whore!"

"Disgusting half-breed!"

"Our saviour: the mate of a werewolf? We'll strive on our own, thanks..."

Harry let out a choked sob and bit his knuckles to prevent himself from breaking down.

He couldn't take that... he couldn't go back to a place filled with such malice and frivolity. He laid himself back down and closed his eyes, trying to think of something that would prevent his hysterics from getting out of control...

More cruel names were hurled at him, each word a stabbing pain like the Cruciatus curse. But as he pushed through the twisted crowd, he saw someone at the end of it all. He was tall, muscular, amber-eyed and silver-haired.

Fenrir held out a large hand and Harry outstretched his arm, even before they were in touching distance. He walked purposefully towards his mate, his eyes focused on nothing but the amber ones ahead of him.

Finally he reached the man and as soon as their hands touched, the crowd disappeared.

Fenrir looked at Harry indifferently, even sneeringly, but didn't let go.

And Harry was glad, because if they parted the crowd would come back.

Snapping his eyes open, Harry tried to clear his head – that really wasn't the way to think. Fenrir wasn't the answer to his problems.

What was he doing here, sitting in the place where he had been "marked"?

He pushed himself up and made to leave the forest but stopped when he felt he was being watched again.

"Ignore it," he muttered to himself. He had to go back and face whatever rumours were floating around.

*F-H*

"Harry! Where on earth have you been?" Hermione shrieked as Harry reached the corridor outside Professor McGonagall's classroom.

"Yeah, where've you been, mate?" Ron asked. "You missed Potions."

"Needed to think," he mumbled, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Harry..." Hermione started warily, her expression fearful, "where did you go?"

"Uh, the library?" He hadn't meant to make it a question, but Hermione's strict, Mrs Weasley tone made it almost impossible to lie to her.

"Don't insult my intelligence," she said harshly. "I know you weren't at the library because we looked for you in there. Anyway, you're covered in grass; it's even in your hair! What were you doing?"

Her voice grew louder with each word and Harry cringed at the stares while trying to brush the grass out of his hair.

"Honestly, just yesterday I told you not to isolate yourself, and what do you do? Detach yourself from everyone! If I didn't know any better I'd –"

"Hermione, leave it!" he snapped finally, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

She blinked and jumped back slightly. Ron narrowed his eyes and everyone else looked on alarmed.

"Don't blame Hermione for worrying about you, mate," Ron said firmly. "You could've at least told us where you were."

Harry glared at him, forgetting their truce.

"Listen, mate," Harry snarled, sneering as he used Ron's favourite word, "I didn't tell you because I know you wouldn't let me go, not that I should need permission to go outdoors for some alone time..."

He didn't know where all this rage was coming from – he didn't want to shout or fall out with his friends but at the moment they were the only ones for him to express his rage at.

"Don't you start on us!" Ron roared, his ears red. "Just because we're trying to help you doesn't mean we'll let you take your mood swings out on us!"

"Ah, this looks like a fun show," came the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

Harry cursed and kicked at the wall.

"What's got your tail in a twist, Potter?" Draco asked as he strode up to Harry, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him.

Harry glared at the Slytherin with all the hate he could muster.

"Piss off, Malfoy," he spat.

"Don't worry," he said, and he leant into Harry's ear so only he could hear, "I haven't told. Yet."

Harry's eyes widened and his brow furrowed in confusion.

"What? Why?"

"I'm waiting for the perfect opportunity," he said with a leer.

"Come in," called Professor McGonagall, startling Harry and Draco out of their eye contact. Harry saw Ron and Hermione enter, not bothering to wait for him. He found he couldn't care less.

Before Draco could move away, Harry grabbed his arm subtly.

"Please," he mouthed.

"Oho, I'm going to enjoy dragging this on, Potter," Draco breathed. "I can manipulate you in any way I want now I know your secret."

Draco pulled his arm out of Harry's grip and Harry let him, his own arm flopping lifelessly to his side.

His eyes stared straight ahead as he ignored everything else around him.

He didn't think his life could get any worse; trust Draco Malfoy to change that.