Author's Note:
Thank you so much again for everyone who is reading and also those taking the time to let me know you're enjoying - it means a lot : )
.: Chapter Five :.
Waking with the Wolf
Like the morning before, Harry woke slowly in warmth and comfort, with the familiar feeling of a cosy blanket of fur over his head. Unlike last time, however, when Harry sat up and pushed the fur cloak off his head, he was not alone. Greyback was sitting nearby, watching him. Fully clothed and human again – thankfully.
"You reacted better to me during a full moon than I'd thought you would," Greyback murmured, his voice full of hidden meaning. "By the next moon your instincts will have taken root and you'll be completely prepared." Harry glared back in answer, sitting up a little straighter. The clothes that old woman had given him yesterday were still spotless somehow. He was glad, they were much comfier than the overlarge garments Greyback had given him before.
"You seemed more concerned with me being upset and afraid than fucking me," Harry said, trying for indifference and failing. A light flush touched his cheeks. The sun wasn't too high in the sky, meaning it was still early and most of the mist had dwindled but it was still quite chilly. He shivered and pulled the cloak round his shoulders securely, before realising he hadn't had it last night.
"You left," he said, immediately infuriated at how concerned the words had sounded.
Greyback smirked. "When the sun came up I left you with adequate scent protection," he said. "I went to the village and back as a wolf for speed. I was barely gone five minutes. I would have sensed if you were in danger, just like yesterday – the morning and the evening…"
Harry frowned. "You sensed I was in trouble both times?" He received a nod in answer and felt surprised. He hadn't known the bond between them allowed that, it made slightly more sense now. The bond existed so that they could protect each other more than invade each other's privacy. Yet the fact that he needed Greyback to protect him at all rubbed him up the wrong way. He snorted.
"You know if you gave me my wand you wouldn't have to defend me. I'm perfectly capable of defending myself with my magic," he griped, infuriated by the way Greyback's smile broadened at his words.
"After a little while those with the recessive gene can do magic without a wand. They draw their power from the earth and sky, the moon herself, like werewolves do," Greyback explained. "And I never took your wand, the Dark Lord still has it."
Harry nodded. In truth his own wand (that had been broken by Hermione's spell back in Godric's Hollow) was still perfectly safe along with the rest of his precious possessions. Still sitting in Hermione's beaded bag. The wand taken from him had been the blackthorn one Ron had given him after stealing it from a snatcher. Somehow, the thought that the wand wasn't his own in the first place, the knowledge that his own wand was safe (albeit still broken) made him feel a little better. It would've broken his heart to think his photo album, his cloak and all of his precious heirlooms from his parents and Sirius were gone.
Greyback's loud sniffing of the air snapped him from his melancholy thoughts. "Don't do that," the wolf growled warningly, getting to his feet.
Harry stared. "Do what?"
"Don't…don't foul the air with your misery, it's very…" He grit his teeth. "I can feel it and it pisses me off."
Harry blinked at him a moment before pulling the cloak around him so thoroughly that only his head was visible. Greyback could sense his upset and disliked it, because of the bond they shared or because it genuinely made him feel bad? Why did he even care? He was so confused. He'd heard of things like this and wished he had someone clever like Hermione to tell him what was going on inside him.
Stockholm Syndrome, was that was it was? As simple as a prisoner generating feelings for his captor in search of even the smallest comfort? That didn't feel quite right.
Suddenly Greyback was directly in front of him, staring down at him. "I said stop doing that," he growled.
Harry glared. "You can't control me or how I bloody feel. I don't belong with you!"
"You do belong with me! You can't deny how right last night felt for you, I felt it emanating from you. You've never been so content in your life!" Greyback snarled. "And I'm not trying to control you. I could if I wanted to but I'm not. All I'm trying to do is stop you from making me feel like shit when I've done everything in my power to take care of you! I'm an alpha, I don't coddle or indulge others, but I have with you. I've done everything for you!"
"Except let me go!" Harry roared, leaping to his feet, his jaw set. He barely came up to Greyback's armpit but he glared at him with vengeance all the same. "Your actions have ruined my life–"
"I claimed you to save you–"
"You claimed me to fuck me and get your own little werewolf brood out of me!" Harry protested. "You don't give two flying fucks about me as a man!"
Greyback seized him then by the scruff of his neck, drawing him up so close to his face that Harry had to rise onto his toes to remain touching the ground at all. "If that were true I wouldn't care if you were upset or afraid–"
"The wolf cares, not you," Harry began. But Greyback cut across him with a frustrated bellow.
"The wolf and me are the same!" His grip on Harry's shirt tightened and Harry saw rage. "Just as the wolf in you and the man you are now one!" Greyback growled out in infuriated frustration then, releasing Harry and spinning on his heel, visibly seething, struggling to control his temper.
"Why must you fight any comfort or good feeling?" he demanded without turning to face him again, as if the sight of him would make him flip. "Does there need to be a bloody rhyme or reason to everything?! I don't want you to be afraid or miserable. I wouldn't want to let you go even if doing so wouldn't mean the Dark Lord would kill you. I don't know the sodding reason, I don't. I just give a shit whether you live or die, alright?"
Silence fell and Harry could do nothing but stare at the creature before him. He had the feeling that he had become important to Fenrir Greyback over the last few days, precious even. A large part of that seemed to be to do with what he could do for him, but if there was one thing he could sympathise with in this alleged murderer, it was the need for a family of his own.
I don't want one with him and I certainly don't want to be the one to…to give birth to anything, Harry thought. But one day I want to have a family with someone I care about, deeply; I want that more than anything…
He considered the werewolf cautiously, again finding himself wondering if another time, another place he might have chosen this path for himself some day. He supposed he'd never know.
"Look," he began after the silence between them had long fallen stagnant. "I trust that you don't want anything to happen to me, I can hardly not after the last few days and I appreciate you saving my arse twice yesterday – literally, most likely. But I don't belong with you, Greyback." At that the werewolf whirled around, his mouth open, on the verge of speech, but Harry got there first.
"I don't belong here because I have a job to do." He paused there, wondering how much he could trust Greyback with. He knew his own mind was safe now; Greyback's connection to him meant that Voldemort could not venture into his mind as he once did. He had a suspicion that the reason the bond held Voldemort out was to do with emotions, the sincere kind that he found so abhorrent.
"I need to stop Voldemort before I can even think about a life of my own," he said at last deciding that the truth was the only hope in hell he had of convincing Greyback to let him go. "People I love and hundreds of thousands of more people besides will suffer and die if I don't. And I know you don't give a shit about anyone but yours and your own but do you really think Voldemort will leave any potential threat to him unconquered?" He looked at Greyback imploringly now.
"Once the muggles and half-bloods are under control he'll go after the other races that might oppose him, werewolves, vampires, giants – all of you until he's conquered you all! I've been inside his sick mind, I know him. He won't rest until he's invincible!"
Suddenly Greyback's huge hands were on his shoulders, gripping them tightly and his bright blue eyes were locked on his face. "This is exactly it, pet. When you accepted me under the moon you passed all of those burdens onto me. The sub doesn't fight or concern himself with such things. I will protect you from the Dark Lord, just like I did with those wolves yesterday – from everyone and anyone. You're safe now. No one will hurt you and you never have to worry about hunger or suffering again. As long as I have breath in me, anything you were worried about before is redundant, got it?" His voice was rough as ever, but there was a husky yearning behind it all, desperation for Harry to understand.
"Under the full moon last night and before, during the mating ritual, you felt carefree and safe because that's what you're meant to be now."
Harry tried to step back but those hands held him fast. "And what about my friends? The people I love? I won't abandon them to play your bitch," Harry retorted hotly. "Look, if there was a way I could buy your brute strength with my wretched body I would. But it doesn't work like that; you can't protect me from Voldemort. I'm the only one that can kill him!"
Greyback's grip was almost painful on his shoulders now. "Your instincts think I can protect you," he murmured coarsely, "or else they'd never have chosen me as your mate. I can protect you, pet, and I will. The Dark Lord can't afford to piss me off and risk losing every werewolf in Britain to the light side. Why do you think he gave you to me without much fuss? He walks a thin line with me. My race are his secret weapon in this war and he knows it."
Greyback released him then, surveying Harry from head to toe as he so often did, before leaning in. Harry's body went rigid, but with embarrassment as opposed to fear and his cheeks coloured when he felt the werewolf's hot breath on the marked side of his neck. He shuddered and not from the cold this time when those lips just skimmed the sensitive, scarred flesh there. He gasped.
"Don't ever talk about buying favours with your body again either, pet. If you want something from me, ask for it," Greyback breathed huskily against him. An instinctive, uncontrollable whine of bliss left Harry before he could stop it and his hands flew up to cover his mouth. Greyback growled heatedly in his throat, seizing each of Harry's wrists in his hands and pinning them fast to Harry's sides.
"Don't ever silence yourself either. The sounds you make are natural, for me only. Even you can't fight your instincts, can't deny that you want me." Greyback punctuated his words by nuzzling up just behind Harry's ear, his stubbly chin teasing the appendage until Harry felt it grow as hot as his cheeks.
"I don't want to buy your body, I don't need to when it's willingly mine anyway," the wolf all-but panted into the shell of his ear and Harry's eyes slammed shut in reaction, his body ramrod stiff in Greyback's grasp. "I will however, help your precious friends if you do something for me."
Harry's eyes flew open suddenly in shock. Greyback chuckled, sensing the surprise in him without seeing his face and that stubbly mouth tickled its way across his earlobe, where it suckled roughly. An animalistic groaning whimper shot from Harry's lips, followed by a very human moan.
"W-What do you mean help?" Harry demanded, trying to sound feisty but failing as arousal tinted every syllable. Greyback's mouth was against the side of his jaw now, those fangs grazing the flesh all the way down to his chin.
"I mean I will send word of your safety to them. I mean I will send my most trusted and powerful to aid them in whatever quest they were on with you when you got caught," Greyback said gruffly but simply, as if it had been obvious before his elaboration.
Harry groaned again, his one free hand flying up and seizing a fistful of the silver hair that hung over Greyback's shoulder. Whether it was to pull him close or push him away he didn't know anymore.
"What do you want?!" Harry gasped, desperate to escape the pleasure and for it to never end all at once. He felt Greyback chuckle against his chin and when he opened his eyes, he found their faces but a hairsbreadth apart and Greyback's mouth dangerously close to his own. As if they were about to kiss. Oh shit! His face was burning now – his entire body was on fire!
"Say my name, pet," Greyback demanded breathily, his words dancing across Harry's slightly parted lips.
Harry felt his mind fog. It was surely not right to be so affected by this beast. He's everything you want and need, a voice whispered at the back of his mind and he closed his eyes, trying to hide the thought from Greyback's gaze. "This won't stop me from trying to escape you," Harry breathed heavily, "I'm not going to be your litter bitch."
Greyback growled, tugging Harry's hair roughly. "Do you want my help or not, pet?" he asked gruffly.
Harry groaned at the tingling heat that shot down his spine from the tight grip on the roots of his hair. Their bond was ringing from honesty on Greyback's end; he meant what he was offering with no trickery and Harry felt so overwhelmingly confused by that and the heat coursing through him that he swore his head would explode.
And he's doing this purely to please me, he realised absently. He's still courting you, his instincts whispered quietly through the fog of arousal and confusion, still trying to win your approval, to prove himself a good mate.
He could feel Greyback's stubble against his smooth skin now. His breath hitched and he struggled to find his voice for Hermione, Ron and the others, for the sake of the mission Dumbledore had left them with. And if Greyback sends his minions, they are sure to try and get me out of here, aren't they?
"G-Grey–"
The fingers in his hair tugged harder,
"My given name, pet," Greyback corrected him. "I want to hear it on your dainty little lips."
Harry wanted to scowl, but…
***CENSORED. FOR FULL SCENE, PLEASE FOLLOW ONE OF THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE***
Harry continued to watch him, his feelings up in the air in confusion. He had just climaxed quite willingly under Fenrir Greyback and his moon-heat had already diminished along with the full moon. I wanted it, he thought with horror; I wanted how he made me feel. Everything felt simpler when Greyback made him feel like that, like he didn't have to think about anything else. Like he could lay back for the first time in his life and just…
An abrupt pressure against his forehead shook him from his reverie and he opened his eyes (not having realised he'd closed them) to find Greyback had butted his head against Harry's forehead and was now watching him. "You're thinking too much, pet. You just came spectacularly with me. What do you need to worry yourself over?"
Harry stared at him for a moment before sighing, closing his eyes in a display of exhaustion (when really it was to give himself an excuse to not look into those unfathomable eyes). "I wouldn't expect you to understand," he said quietly. Greyback merely scoffed in answer and pressed his nose into Harry's throat for a moment, inhaling.
"I understand better than you think – some things better than you it seems," Greyback murmured gruffly. He pulled his own trousers up to rest back on his hips, his upper body bare as always. Harry didn't know whether it was because he didn't like wearing clothes or because he liked to show of his hard, sculpted torso. He flushed slightly at the thought.
"And the few things that I don't understand, pet, you'll have plenty of time to teach me," the werewolf smirked, getting to his feet.
Harry scowled at him, pulling his shirt down and his own trousers up. "That's what you think," he snapped at Greyback, pulling the fur cloak around his shoulders. For now, he would stick with the unbearable alpha that his body and instincts adored so. It was his best chance of ever seeing Ron and Hermione again and fulfilling his unwanted destiny of defeating Voldemort. The latter was in no way as appealing as the first, of course but…necessary. There was no one else for the job, after all, he reminded himself with a pang of bitterness that he quickly quashed.
"You seem attached to that thing," Greyback said then, summoning Harry's attention back to him as he gestured to the cloak still wrapped around Harry's shoulders. Harry glared at him furiously but before he could spit out a retort, Greyback had shucked off his trousers again, effectively distracting him.
Harry's eyes widened. He hastily looked away. "What the bloody hell are you playing at?!" he gushed, not wanting to get anymore familiar with Greyback's body than he already was.
Greyback chuckled wolfishly, offering the garment out to Harry. Harry saw it out of the corner of his eye and his glower intensified.
"If you don't take it then when I change back you'll have a naked alpha you apparently despise for company," the werewolf mused gruffly. Harry snatched the garment off him, guessing what the next step was going to be. Although it would be undoubtedly quicker (and easier on his aching body) he was not sure his pride would suffer it.
"Good boy," Greyback mock-appraised him, before he took a step back and urged his body into a voluntary change. Muscle and flesh rippled. Bone merged into a larger, altogether different shape that after last night, Harry easily recognised. He felt oddly calmer at the sight of those amber eyes flecked with blue and that beautifully glossy silver coat. Perhaps it was an instinct/hormone thing, as even the smell of the morning breeze through that fur made his anger dissipate.
The alpha wolf padded towards him, brushing his furred face against Harry's chest, nearly knocking him off his feet with his strength. Harry managed to stay upright and gripped Greyback's mane to steady himself, surprised to feel that the fur was still soft and comforting under his hands. He thought he'd imagined it last night.
"You should stay like this, you're much easier to be with this way," Harry muttered, receiving another forceful brush of that head against his face this time. In this form, Greyback was immense in size. Harry wondered if the rest of his 'pack' boasted the same bear-sized dimensions. I'll find out soon enough, I reckon, he thought as he reluctantly pulled himself onto the alpha's back. It was only his survival instincts that enabled him to do so without more fuss.
It was no more unnerving than riding Buckbeak or a thestral – he was not now several hundred feet off the ground after all. It was also fairly easy to forget that this was Greyback beneath him, since the man couldn't taunt or provoke him; the scent rising from that soft fur made him feel quite laid back.
It was Greyback whose pride would suffer most anyway, since he was allowing Harry to ride on his back like some horse. Harry was in the superior position – on top. He wondered if Greyback knew that and if he did, why it didn't bother him. Besides which, if this got him far away from the rogue wolves that would rape him quicker, he would happily forgo a slither of pride. He cast a glance back at the place where Cannagan had fallen last night. Greyback had buried the bastard under a thick layer of soil, which now stood out from the surrounding grassland. Harry frowned. He hadn't realised that Greyback was the kind to give even an enemy a decent burial. It surprised him.
He's not exactly what you presumed he'd be, is he? His instincts whispered. It isn't like you to judge a book by its cover.
Harry frowned. I judged him by what he did to Bill and Remus – by how he made irreversible changes to my life without my permission.
He saved you! And as for Bill and Remus, perhaps he could justify those actions too.
Harry snorted. He might try and justify what he did to me, I might even be able to accept that on some level, he retorted in his own mind. But there is no way in hell he can make excuses for what he did to Bill and Remus. There's no forgiving that. With that thought, Greyback leapt forwards, throwing Harry flat against his back with the sudden movement.
"You did that on purpose," Harry griped as he struggled to steady himself. He gripped Greyback's ribs with his legs and knotted his hands in the wolf's fur at his neck as they bolted across the moor. The breeze intensified with their speed, rushing against his face and through his hair, inciting a smile to touch his lips despite the situation. It was like flying. Greyback was bounding at warp speed across the ground – so fast his massive paws were barely touching it.
Why hadn't they done this from the start, he wondered? But then he realised. Because he knew I'd say no before. So what was different now?
You came with him without any outside influence and without the moon's hold over you, his mind whispered. He grit his teeth and flushed darkly but could not deny it. He'd pulled Greyback to him for no other reason than wanting to feel good. What does that make me? A man who cuddles up to someone he dislikes so eagerly? He winced, not liking the words that sprang to mind.
Suddenly, Greyback sped up until the wind was howling in Harry's ears, pressing against his face with unyielding force. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open and he gripped Greyback harder with his hands and legs out of instinct. Greyback had sped up to distract him from his thoughts, no doubt having sensed his melancholy, Harry realised, silently thankful, but also guilty. Did he deserve such a reprieve?
Within moments they were rushing past the boundaries of the village and it was out of sight after another few. Harry turned slightly and watched it vanish from view as they flew across the moorlands. He would have to ask Greyback why those villagers were under their protection. Why had Greyback and his pack helped to set up the parameter that kept any invaders out of the village? They'd even set up a scent claim over the village to protect it. He recalled dimly the way Greyback had spoken to the old woman, as if he respected her. But Greyback loathed wizards and witches, didn't he?
The wind rushed through his hair, clearing his senses as they left the village far behind and the sun rose higher in the sky. Harry tipped his head back on his shoulders, closing his eyes and feeling the sun's warmth on his face, embracing the strength of the wind. This was just like last night when he had run under the moon, only more exhilarating.
"Wish I could run this fast," Harry mused, without realising he had spoken his words aloud. His body was heavy with exhaustion after the last few days, the moon heat having taken its toll. The itching, aching heat and desire had long since abated but the echo of tiredness it left behind remained. He kept his eyes closed, not realising in his daze that Greyback's pace had slowed a fraction.
He didn't realise when his body tipped slowly to lay flat, his face and torso pressed into the fur of Greyback's neck. He did vaguely register the wolf twisting his head to swipe his tongue across Harry's arm, which was now hanging limply at his side. Harry grumbled sleepily, drifting in a limbo between slumber and consciousness. "Can't give in to you," Harry mumbled, again without realising he'd spoken aloud, nearly lost to sleep, "Can't be yours. Got to finish…got to be me…"
Greyback pondered those words as he moved as fast as he could without dislodging or awakening the boy on his back. He was too light really for a man of his age, even if he was a little short. Needs feeding, he thought, trying not to think of how that glorious young body would fill once it was carrying his offspring.
The boy was so concerned with the responsibilities that he'd been lumbered with by much more powerful men. Perhaps that was why he was so obstinate and determined to not realise that he, Fenrir was the answer to everything he had never even dared to hope for. We're meant for each other, pet, you'll see, he thought, pausing at the edge of a great forest he knew all to well.
The Forest of Shae. He thought fondly of the name – the same as that of the village. They were both his 'mother's' namesake. The leaves were a rich array of greens and seemed to sparkle with their magic as the sun danced off them. The boughs and bark of the trees were a healthy, earthy brown and the trees themselves stood loosely together at first, growing closer together the further in he went. He wondered as he moved, just what his mother might have thought of the boy sleeping soundly on his back.
They were both as obstinate as each other, he thought with a grin that could not form due to the muzzle he now wore instead of his human mouth. Perhaps that was why he'd been so drawn to the boy back at Malfoy Manor, unable to let him slip through his grasp despite the trouble it was causing him now. Despite it meaning he now owed a favour to the Dark Lord. The second he had seen his strength, his stubbornness, it had been simply impossible to walk away.
His mother had done great things and was not the usual sub. His mate would do great things with his power, with his pride and tenacity just as his mother had, Fenrir was sure of it. You'd be proud, Fenrir thought, turning his attention back to the trees again.
The den of his pack was straight on into the very depths of the forest, protected by the Mountain of Adair that stood in the distance, surrounded by the mythical trees and rolling hillocks. It was said that the magic of the trees and the mountain their home was built within, was just as good as any protective enchantments the wizards made. Especially their flawed Fidelius charms. No one could apparate in or out. No one could use magic to locate it and the alpha and beta of the pack knew the moment any living being entered the forest domain.
Fenrir didn't know if there was any validity to the legends he'd been told since birth, but he knew that they had never been found by any living soul within this forest and any foe that had entered the boundaries had never defeated them. His father had told him that the forest was alive, one with them. He'd said that it gave them their own natural magic that rivalled anything the wizards produced with a wand. Fenrir could not help but believe it as he stepped into the shade of the trees.
The branches bent with the breeze to caress him and his precious cargo. He inclined his head and lapped at the crystal clear stream that wound between the trees and out of sight. After sating his thirst, he heard the belly of his mate grumble and cast his gaze in the direction he knew the den was in.
They would be there soon and then he would have to deal with whatever had happened in his absence as well as the endless questions – both from the pack and from the boy on his back. As said boy squirmed in his sleep however, defenceless and far more endearing than he was when awake, Fenrir thought it would be worth it. And ultimately, every one of his pack knew how valuable those like his mate were, especially since so many had been lost during the time wizards had hunted them down. He growled softly, banishing the bitter memories from his mind. He swore not to dwell on that time ever again; he was needed more in the present than he was in the past, after all…
Harry awoke slowly, groggy but definitely more refreshed than he had felt before. He was warm but immobile, which he knew he hadn't been when he had dozed off. We were moving weren't we? He thought, disorientated as his eyes fluttered open and he found himself squinting up at the afternoon sun peeping through a glistening canopy of leaves. It was like being in another world, some sort of paradise, he thought.
"I'm still dreaming," he murmured, voice hoarse with lack of use as his vision began to focus. He wiped the sleep from his eyes.
"I didn't know I was dream material," a gruff voice said from the side and Harry scowled at the smirk that rode across Greyback's lips. The wolf was a man again, thankfully dressed in the trousers Harry had held for him while he was changed. He was bent over a small fire with some sort of meat skewered over the flames. It was for him, Harry immediately realised but did not move or ask for the food, even if his stomach grumbled loudly at the sight and smell of it. Greyback's grin broadened in answer.
"You're far too scrawny. I'll need to ensure you get the best from each hunt so you fatten up a bit," the alpha said, plucking the wooden skewer up and bringing it over to Harry. He held the stick out to him, his brow rising when Harry didn't move. "I made an oath to you under the moon, pet, this is part of that oath. Eat it. They can hear your growling belly all the way back at the village."
"I don't need your charity," Harry snapped, snatching the skewer from Greyback all the same, holding each end with his hands. "If you gave me a wand, or at least showed me how to use this 'werewolf' magic I'm supposed to have then I can catch and cook my own food."
Greyback chuckled coarsely. "The 'werewolf magic' isn't something you can teach. You'll learn it when you're more in tune with your instincts and as for a wand, we're a long way from any wand maker, pet." He stared at Harry a moment, considering him before adding, "besides, it's my job as your alpha, your mate to provide for you. I'd be considered a failure by all if I didn't provide you with enough food. Eat." He punctuated the last word by dropping down heavily in front of Harry. Sitting rigidly, Greyback watched him with a hard stare until Harry lost the battle with his own hunger and sank his teeth into the perfectly plucked and cooked pheasant.
The taste exploded in his mouth, full and rich, as if Greyback had used some sort of spice. The meat was moist and delicious and Harry felt himself salivating as he sucked it ravenously from the stick. He was being watched but the emptiness in his stomach didn't care. It tasted like chicken with a slight twang – he didn't think he'd ever tasted something so delicious outside of Hogwarts.
"Looks like I built you up an appetite yesterday," Greyback chuckled roughly, watching Harry as if it provided him with infinitesimal pleasure.
Harry flushed darkly and ripped the last succulent strip of meat from the stick, before tossing it into the small fire that was now dwindling behind Greyback. It was as if the flames knew he was done with them. Harry wondered if that was part of the magic Greyback had said that werewolves had access to earlier.
They didn't need wands he said...
"You ready?" Greyback asked abruptly, calling Harry back from his reverie.
Harry blinked at him. "Ready for what?" he asked, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. It occurred to him to say thank you for the food, but the words died on his tongue. Surely if he was polite to Greyback, anything but flippant, indifferent or frustrated, it would be like accepting him, accepting…this?
"We're about half a mile from the den, pet," Greyback said simply, a knowing look in his otherwise impassive face. He was watching Harry still, gauging his reaction.
Harry scowled. "Don't call me pet!" he demanded, exasperated. "Don't give me pet names like we're bloody lovers or something."
Greyback's eyes flickered with an intense emotion Harry was loathe to put a name to.
"Oh, we're much more than lovers." Greyback punctuated the words by sliding forwards and capturing Harry's chin between his rough thumb and forefinger. Harry shook his grip off, glaring up at him hatefully. This only made Greyback's familiar smirk return to his lips.
"We're mated for life – you chose me, bound yourself to me and now you're coming home."
The word stuck in Harry's throat as he parted his lips to repeat it in sarcasm. That which Greyback had spoken of wasn't something he easily came by. Hogwarts was probably the only place he had ever considered home, although The Burrow had come close. That Greyback spoke of giving him one made his insides ache. He ducked his head, trying to hide his reaction (even if Greyback could sense it) and got to his feet, his arms tense by his sides.
"It can't be my home," Harry managed hoarsely, the second word a true struggle to utter. "I don't belong with you, whatever my body or instincts might think. I told you, I have things to do, things only I can do–"
"And I told you, that's my job now. Whatever you left undone is my responsibility by default," Greyback grunted, rising to his feet too and towering over him. He sounded and looked exasperated as well. "As your mate I'm an extension of you – just as your silly little wand was an extension of you." He looked annoyed now as well at having to use wizarding terms to make Harry understand. He hates wizards, Harry reminded himself, he doesn't consider me one anymore, obviously.
"I'm your strength, your power. You must use me to complete whatever task you set out to do," Greyback finished.
"I've got enough strength and power of my own, thanks," Harry retorted hotly. "And if I had my wand I'd gladly giveyou a demonstration." It was meant to sound threatening, but Greyback didn't look even remotely concerned. More amused, Harry thought, irritated. "And if you are my strength, what the hell am I to you?"
Greyback considered him, looking a little…embarrassed?
"They say the alpha numero is the heart of the alpha," Greyback muttered under his breath, crossing the forest floor to the fire, where he stomped out the last of the dying embers. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding Harry's eyes. "It is said that they give the brute strength and dominance purpose…"
Harry scoffed. "What a crock of shit," he grunted, "I'm the body for you to fuck, to do with and dispose of as you see fit. The litter bitch – I remember what those arseholes at the camp said." He was referring to that band of outsiders lead by the red-headed brothers of course. Judging by the look of fury on Greyback's face when he turned to look on him again, he'd registered that perfectly.
"Those mongrels are nothing like the rest of us!" Greyback snarled dangerously. His voice was so low it was almost a growl. "They're an insult to our very species! Our mates, our subs – those like you with the ability to bear us live young, they're precious to us. Gifts from the moon herself." Greyback winced then as if any thought otherwise was repugnant to him. "Those outcasts are disgusting things. They've no respect for life or the earth that gives us our magic…"
Harry frowned in confusion. "Magic is inside of us, not drawn from the elements," he began but Greyback's head snapped in his direction, silencing him.
"But the elements further the magic werewolves are born with, it's part of what makes us such formidable foes. They fortify our magic, they help us to channel magic without a wand–"
"But you had a wand," Harry cut across him. "I saw you with one the night Dumbledore died. You offered to kill him in Malfoy's place on the tower!"
For a moment a long silence fell between them. Greyback clearly hadn't realised Harry had seen that, or that Harry had seen him at all before he'd 'rescued' him from Voldemort. Another reason I will never be yours, Harry snarled bitterly in his mind. Greyback was very nearly the one who had ended Dumbledore's life as opposed to Snape. "You were ready to kill him," Harry said quietly, without really meaning to speak out loud.
Greyback sneered. "That old bastard kept one of my changelings from me," he grunted. "I can never forgive that."
Harry stared at him, his eyes wide. He had a feeling that he knew exactly which 'changeling' Greyback was referring to. His tongue darted over his suddenly dry lips and he tried to ignore the way those icy blue eyes followed the diminutive movement. "You mean Remus Lupin, don't you?" he asked. Greyback didn't need to answer with words, Harry saw that he was correct by the way the alpha's body stiffened.
"I know him. He's a good man. You snuck into his home and bit him against his will. He hates being a werewolf! He goes through agony every month because of you!"
"Because of that interfering fool Dumbledore," Greyback snarled, but he turned away, as if reluctant to continue on this subject. Something to hide? Harry's mind hissed accusingly.
"I bit the boy, yes," Greyback continued, "there is no other way for our subs to have children. We take orphans and mistreated brats from their homes and welcome them into ours, give them a new life–"
"A life they might not want!" Harry roared.
Greyback's muscles bunched as if he wanted to fly at Harry and pin him to the nearby tree by his throat. His large hands curled into fists and his eyes flared. "Surely anything is better than a life of abuse, pain and neglect?!" Greyback snapped through large, white gritted teeth. "As rumour has it you should have wished for anything to take you away from those muggles of yours."
Harry stopped. Would he have welcomed the bite? Would he have fallen happily into the arms of a new family? A werewolf foster mother and father? He closed his eyes, trying to reel in his emotions, his memories. The memory of Dudley jumping up and down on the stairs above the cupboard he slept in, of Uncle Vernon's biting comments about his unwanted presence, of every Christmas that Aunt Petunia showered Dudley with affection and presents – they swam through him like a bitter tide of aside. He held his breath.
"But Remus had loving parents and every day he is haunted by what you did to him," Harry said, ignoring the swell of understanding rising in his belly. "You ruined his life just as you ruined mine!"
"I don't have to justify to you what I did years before you were even born!" Greyback spat.
"You do when the victim is probably the closest thing I have left to a parent!" Harry retorted. Greyback snarled again and this time did surge forwards, slamming his fist into the bark of the tree beside Harry's head, caging him in with his arm and body.
"We hunt and watch, we search for our younglings," Greyback hissed dangerously, his face inches from Harry's. Harry could feel his hot, musky breath on his face and inhaled sharply, holding it in as Greyback calmly raged. "He was abused and in pain, but his parents were not the culprits. By the time we realised it was too late. We tried to talk to his parents afterwards, wanted to help him, to help them to raise him so he wouldn't suffer as he does now, but your precious Dumbledore stuck his great nose in…"
For a moment, Harry saw those azure eyes blaze with something unfamiliar, something akin to pain. Then the wolf stepped back from him, turning away. Harry breathed out at last, his heart still hammering. Had Remus been abused by someone else then? Or had Greyback mistaken the whole idea?
"So how many other children did you mistakenly take from their families?" he asked, his voice slightly higher than normal.
Greyback turned back to him again, but slowly this time. "I never made a mistake before then and I've not made one since." The wolf paused then, as if considering whether to elaborate further. Harry could sense his discomfiture, his angry wretchedness. Greyback's mouth twisted, opening and closing soundlessly and Harry swore he had been about to state his regret, but instead the wolf said, "I make a point of not making mistakes like that, as alpha."
Harry snorted. "It was a mistake to take me as your mate. You should have found yourself a nice bitch to rut with instead of me." Why did that notion fill his chest with such uncomfortable fire? He swore he heard his instincts growling at the suggestion – in jealousy. These words seemed to eradicate the angst hanging so pungently in the air, for Greyback staggered back to him with a smirk on his lips. He caught Harry's chin between calloused thumb and forefinger.
"Oh no, pet, you're the right one for me. And my pack is the home for you, you'll see," the werewolf said, his smirk not fading even when Harry shook his chin free of his grasp. Blue eyes were on fire, fuelled by an emotion entirely different from anger now and it unnerved Harry to see it.
After a moment, Greyback sniffed the air. Harry did so as well (as inconspicuously as possible to avoid Greyback noticing) but couldn't smell anything. There was nothing there apart from the fresh air, the birds, the stream he could hear nearby and Greyback's heady, musky scent. It made his cheeks colour a little as he realised he could still smell the evidence of their mating on the both of them. What would the pack say? They would know for sure!
"I want a bath before we go to the den," Harry said suddenly, looking to his right, the direction in which he sensed the clean water of the river. Greyback was looking at him knowingly. Harry refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing the embarrassment in his eyes and did not look at him directly. "I'll be quick," Harry added, moving hastily through the trees without waiting for a reply. He didn't want to give Greyback the chance to stop him. Or to mutter some tasteless remark, he thought as he hastened towards the water source.
The bubbling, crystal clear brook ran into a generous lake. The lake itself was headed by a grand waterfall that imbued the world around it with a rainbow of colours, the kind of image that seemed to be too beautiful to be natural. It was as if every droplet gushing over the waterfall was a liquid crystal, reflecting the light of the sun in stunning colour. It was a sight to behold, framed with those rich, magical trees and Harry's jaw was still open with awe as he stripped off, hurrying into the water.
It was cold and Harry shivered but did not stop. When he was waist deep, he began splashing the icy water over his skin, scrubbing with his hands to try and cleanse himself of the smells of sex. Besides whatever the pack thought, if he smelled this way when his friends came to save him, he didn't think he would ever be able to look them in the eye again. Remus and Bill would be able to identify the obvious scents if no one else.
The sun was warm, a fine contrast to the lake as it beamed down on his naked flesh – finally clean after an eternity of scrubbing. His hands were quite red now from his vigorous cleaning, but he felt whole at last, able to look down at his body without shame. It was pale as ever but bruised with the evidence of Greyback's passion and his cheeks darkened at the sight. He stalked out of the water.
Slut, his mind hissed. And you slept with him willingly the last time, all of your own volition. You came under him like some wanton…
I know! Harry berated himself, stooping down to pull on his trousers after the sun had dried him sufficiently. A moment of weakness, of wanting to feel wanted and cherished just like he said. But never again! Even if Greyback had had a reason to want to kill Dumbledore, if he hadn't attacked children maliciously and had even unwittingly ruined Remus' life, it didn't matter. He had still hurt Bill and still changed him, Harry without his consent. I will never consent to be with someone like that, he reminded himself fiercely. Much less have kids with them!
Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he sighed and reached for the shirt and fur cloak he had taken to wearing, but froze mid-motion. He could smell, no sense others around him. Whirling on the spot, he reached for a wand that wasn't there and gasped as a large hand seized his throat, choking the breath from him. It squeezed, lifting him high off his feet so that he spluttered and flailed, his hands clawing at the one holding him captive.
"Let go of me!" He choked, staring down at his attacker through clenched eyes that were beginning to water. There were three of them. None of them were Greyback. The brute holding him was tall and bulky like Greyback but with pallid flesh, short, dishevelled obsidian hair and hungry brown eyes that stared up at Harry. They were like knives penetrating his soul.
Harry struggled more as he felt the breath beginning to leave his lungs, felt his body shaking with spasms of oxygen starvation. The dark haired creature holding him leant in and inhaled him deeply, rolling his eyes back with pleasure. "Oh, a squirming sub. You smell so good, baby," he panted, his breath against Harry's neck. Harry winced, choking audibly now.
"Look at him wriggle," a high, biting voice from the right snarled, originating from a dark-blonde beauty who was glaring at Harry with pure loathing. That expression was the last clear thing he saw before his vision started to swirl into a haze of colour and pain at his throat. Accio wand! He thought desperately, stupidly in his panic. Accio wand! But nothing came.
"Let go of his throat!" A low, dangerous voice demanded and immediately Harry landed with a thud on the ground, clutching at his throbbing throat. He blinked blindly up at the bright sky and gasped, spluttering. He edged back as a shadow fell over him.
"No!" he choked but two hands heaved him to his knees by his shoulders regardless. One of them moved to his jaw, tilting his head back to expose the agonising bruises Harry knew must be brewing there. The fingers on his jawline were coarse but familiar, the claws that accompanied them digging lightly into his skin. Much to his dismay his hormones, instincts, whatever they were had flickered to life again alongside the flames of human panic inside him.
Greyback's breath danced across the side of his neck where his mark was no doubt being marred by bruising. He felt Greyback's concern overcome with fury. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?!" he roared. Harry blinked, finding his vision just in time to see his three attackers recoiling, falling to their knees as if struck and bowing their heads like scolded puppies.
The girl looked wiry and powerfully lean whereas the man that had held him and the dark-skinned male beside him were both bulky with taut muscle. They were huge, powerful and yet they were bowing and scraping under Greyback's gaze like whipped dogs. Harry felt shock ripple through him.
Surging forwards, Greyback bore down on them, his back arched as if he were about to transform in his rage. "Couldn't you smell he was mine?!"
"We couldn't smell you on him, sir!" the dark-skinned male further at the back murmured respectfully. "Apologies, Alpha, the scent was barely noticeable until we were up close and then we thought it came from the fur cloak – we thought he must have stolen it from you–"
"And when has anyone ever stolen anything from me?" Greyback cut across him. Harry could almost feel Greyback's fury rushing through him as if it were his own. His body was still shaking with the shock of being starved for air, but he felt the chill of the breeze on his skin and struggled in to his shirt. Greyback cast a glance back to him at his movement, seemingly annoyed that he had moved but turned that irritation on the three before him.
"You two smelt a piece of tail and you chased it without thought!" he spat, "and you–" He glared at the blonde woman. She bowed even lower at the address. "You egged them on. I'm disgusted that you're part of my pack–"
"Please, Alpha," the dark man at the back murmured again contritely, "we offer penance, we didn't know. We never should have–"
"Enough, Marrok," Greyback snapped, before turning his icy blue eyes to the man at the front, the man who had grabbed Harry. Greyback roared with fury and surged forwards again, seizing the man by the throat just as he had Harry, shaking him while he held him off the ground. The man himself was as big as Greyback, it was no mean feat. Harry could not help but being a little awed despite himself.
"And you, Weylyn," Greyback growled as if addressing the lowest piece of filth, "You laid your stinking fingers on my mate–"
"Alpha!" Weylyn spluttered, gasping for air, his deep voice broken with choking, "I didn't–"
"But you would have," Greyback cut across him tersely, "you would have seen my mark if you hadn't been so quick to wrap your mangy mitts around his neck. And even if he weren't mine, we don't treat subs that way. I should rip your throat out…" He punctuated his words by squeezing Weylyn's thick neck, blood oozing from where his claws pierced his skin. The two on the floor winced but did not raise their heads to defend their companion, Harry noted, he swallowed. Was Greyback's power over them so absolute? Harry wasn't sure he liked that.
They strangled you! They might have killed you or worse, a dark corner of his mind whispered. He should be angry. He should punish them! He's angry because they hurt you!
Or angry because they touched his property? Harry snarled back, still shaking from shock but forcing himself to rise to his feet regardless. "Fenrir, no!" Harry gasped, his throat aching at every word. He was just as surprised as Greyback to hear his first name on his lips, but it did the trick.
Greyback wheeled around to look at him; upon seeing him upright but unsteady, he dropped Weylyn unceremoniously and moved to his side. Harry tried to bat him off but was unsuccessful.
"Be still," Greyback growled, urging him back down to the grass and pulling his cloak around Harry's shoulders. Harry fought him fruitlessly and gripped those massive arms to force the alpha to look at him.
"Don't kill him. It's just a bruise, I'm fine," he said, no little amount of pleading in his voice. He'd seen so much death, he didn't want to see anymore – especially on his behalf. "I don't want anyone to die for me. And the other bloke didn't do anything at all anyway." His tongue darted over his dry lips when Greyback just looked at him, as if he were speaking some foreign language. "Please, Fenrir!" Harry demanded then, his frustration and desperation mounting. His fingers dug into Greyback's arms and he felt his blunt nails scrape that impenetrable flesh.
After a stagnant moment of uncertainty, Greyback shook his head and extricated himself from Harry's grip, getting to his feet. "Your alpha numero speaks out for you, though I don't think you deserve the honour," he snarled, addressing the three on the ground again, who had been staring at Harry but quickly snapped their gazes back to the grass. They were surprised I spoke out for them? Or that I stood up to Fen– Greyback? Harry wondered.
"He's my mate, your superior and you'll take the last scraps of each meal and border patrol every night until I'm satisfied you've repented enough," Greyback told them, giving the three of them a final, disparaging look before turning back to Harry as if they had vanished into thin air. When those azure eyes reached Harry, however, the concern Harry felt before the rage was all that was visible.
"Are you alright?" That low, rough voice asked and Harry nodded, his throat still too sore to make him want to risk speech if he didn't need to. As if asking permission, Greyback's hand hovered momentarily over Harry's jaw. Harry blinked at him for a moment, unsure what acquiescing would mean in their peculiar relationship. But he did save your life¸ that infuriating voice whispered. He sighed, tilting his head to the side.
Greyback hissed at the sight of his neck, a sound of sympathy pain and his thumb ghosted the sore skin gently. "Let me," he werewolf breathed and Harry frowned, not understanding what he meant until that hot breath dusted his throat, a wet tongue lapping at his bruised flesh. He winced but did not allow a sound to slip past his lips. Not even when that mouth coated his flesh with a light sheen of saliva that he felt healing his hurt.
A blush suffused his cheeks with heat and colour. What must he look like? Why do you give a shit? "S-Stop!" he whispered, breathing harshly. To his surprise, the wolf immediately drew back. Those darkened eyes considered him for a moment and then they were gone. Greyback helped him to his feet and then turned back to the trio, who still hadn't moved.
"Weylyn, Marrok, Larentia, you take the hunt. If you bring back a good kill for my mate's welcoming feast it might help me to forgive you," Greyback snapped, beginning to walk away from them, gesturing for Harry to follow. Harry still felt dazed, a little out of it from the lack of air but knew that he wouldn't usually have followed after the alpha so readily. But for some reason, whether it was an instinct or something else, he found that his feet were already carrying him forward, away from the chastised trio.
Harry swore it was his instincts that made him move, urged him to get away from the danger and as close to his mate as possible. But when my magic comes to me, or I find a wand (whichever comes first) I can defend myself, he told his instincts tersely, disliking the way they so readily urged him to depend on Greyback – without pause.
That part of me trusts him implicitly to protect me, to provide for me, Harry thought, watching the alpha's back as he followed him into the forest and well away from the lake. They were heading deeper into the forest, toward the 'cave' that was the den of the pack, he supposed. My pack, my home, he said, Harry remembered, trying not to dwell too long on that thought and distract himself from the important question at hand.
Did he trust Fenrir? The bastard couldn't lie to him, he cared about him (for whatever warped reason) and he had saved him more than once now. It was an odd thought, one Harry wasn't entirely sure of, but in this wilderness in the middle of nowhere, Fenrir Greyback was his only ally and a seemingly valuable one at that…
And he made me come, Harry thought, a frown furrowing his brow. I willingly did so, with him. What the hell does that mean?
"Stop over thinking things, you'll do yourself an injury," Greyback said suddenly, cutting through Harry's reverie.
Harry's frown intensified. "You're one to talk," he grumbled, stepping into stride with him. "Those three back there, they were your pack?" Harry asked. He received only a nod in answerGreyback nodded. "Do all werewolves bow and scrape to you like that?" He swore he saw the smallest of smirks playing along those lips at the question.
"Apparently not you," Greyback mused before adding, "Mine is the largest pack in Britain, that gives me higher status over alphas from other packs. Lower ranked wolves show more submission than another alpha might but, yes, if they commit a sin as serious as Weylyn just did, they do prostrate themselves before me in forgiveness."
Harry snorted. "If you're hoping I'll do that every time I piss you off, you're in for an awful shock," he said. That slither of a smirk stretched wider across Greyback's lips.
"Oh, pet, if I wanted that I would've waited for a more amiable, submissive mate." His tone was heady and it made Harry's cheeks colour again even as his eyes widened in surprise. What the hell did that mean?
"But if you chose someone else they couldn't give you what I could. They couldn't give you…well, you know…kids. Not that I will," Harry said, confused and embarrassed about how those words had come out. Greyback looked down at him with a raised brow; he too seemed confused but amused at Harry's rash choice of words.
"That, your lack of submissiveness and your wilfulness are all why I chose you," Greyback said simply, before inhaling the breeze that rushed through the leaves and the sparkling forest around them. "Now come on, the den's entrance is just through here…"
The trees did not thin as they approached it; on the contrary they were thick and strong. Their branches seemed to move out of Greyback's path on the breeze, as if they knew it was him passing through. The den's entrance turned out to be a sheer rock face, part of a seemingly impenetrable mountain that reached up to the heavens beyond Harry's sight. His head hung backwards as he tried to spy the top, but it was impossible.
There seemed to be no opening in the great expanse of ethereal, silvery grey. At first. Harry watched with interest as Greyback approached a point in the rock where sunlight bathed its surface, dancing through the crevices – glistening.
Looking at it more carefully, Harry noticed that the closest trees were reaching across it to form a makeshift archway with their branches. A frame of glinting leaves where the door should have been. Greyback pressed his large palm to the centre of this section and Harry watched in surprise as the rock began to glow with unyielding bluish light. A high-pitched ringing overwhelmed him. It was so intense that he had to cover his ears and close his eyes in an attempt to keep it out.
~To Be Continued...