Sweet Puppy

Chapter 3

Fenrir let loose another howl as he threw a handful of dirt at what seemed to be an invisible wall. Snape was behind it, or in it, or something, and the smell of his mate’s fear was fogging his brain. It occurred to him that it might be himself that the boy was afraid of, but no matter. Fenrir’s eyes roved the ground and he knelt down to dig out a huge rock embedded in the dirt. As though it were made of feathers, he launched it straight ahead – it hit something and dropped directly down. His eyes gleamed triumphantly; now he had the boundary marked.

“Snape, you son of a bitch, I know you have him!” he barked, flinging himself against the wall. “Give him to me, and I won’t tear you to pieces!” Fenrir dug his nails into the solid air and dragged them down. “The Dark Lord will be pleased to hear from you, Snape! Missed you, he did…,” He received no answer and he banged his fist against the wall again. “Just give me the boy, Snape. I’ll forget I saw you, and you can keep hiding. What’s he to you, anyway? You hate him.”

No response. Fenrir snarled at the space in front of him, then dropped to all fours and began to lope around the edges of the hidden structure.

“I’ll get in. You know I will. I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down!” said the wolf manically, laughing at his joke. Panting from the difficulty of running on all fours, Fenrir ran his claws over every inch of the barrier he could reach. There had to be a weak point….

For the first time in years, Fenrir regretted not owning a wand. He had never needed one, not since he’d been bitten…there was no fight he couldn’t win, nothing that his muscle couldn’t solve, nothing that he couldn’t see, smell, or hear…. A wand was a worthless piece of wood and the only things that came out of it were ropes, chains, and shackles forcing him down while wizards walked around him, all tall and mighty, looking down at the dirty, wild wolf with sneers on their faces. Wands were not worth anything to him.

Now, however, Fenrir was going mad with anger. He couldn’t get in. His bulk couldn’t knock anything down. There were no weak pockets – Snape had made sure of that, he was a great wizard…Fenrir still remembered the power of the curse that had killed Albus Dumbledore. A wand would have been helpful now….

Protected in the cottage, Harry crouched by the fireplace under his Invisibility cloak. He watched Snape’s expression apprehensively when Greyback mentioned trading him for his silence. Snape however did not take the bait. Could it be possible that Snape didn’t want to go to Voldemort? The only thing Harry could think was that maybe Voldemort had been angry with Snape for being the one to kill Dumbledore; after all, it was Draco that was supposed to have done it. Harry flinched when he heard the werewolf’s laughter; it made him want to crawl into a hole and hide and never come out. He knew he was being irrational, that he needed to keep his wits about him if he was to get through this, but that sound…like he didn’t even care that he had raped a boy only an hour ago….

“Potter,” said Snape, eyes darting in his direction. “You’re hyperventilating.”

Harry started with surprise, then forced himself to breath normally.

“Potter,” said Snape through gritted teeth. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

Harry tightened his cloak around himself, annoyed at Snape’s berating tone. “I’ve only been alone for two days,” said Harry. “Remus and everybody are supposed to come soon.”

“Who, exactly, is ‘everybody’, Potter?”

“Tonks, Bill, Charlie, Ron, and Hermione.”

“Good Lord,” Snape muttered. “What are you all doing out here?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, peering up at Snape from his spot on the floor. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Snape’s lip curled. “May I ask how you plan to fit them all in this hovel?”

Harry bristled. “It’s not a hovel, and there’s a door over there. This cottage expands – it can fit as many people as it needs to.”

Snape said nothing, just grunted, reluctantly impressed. Pursing his lips, he asked, “Do you have any idea as to what time we should be expecting them?”

“Remus said sometime in the morning…”

“’Sometime in the morning’,” Snape repeated mockingly. “How precise.”

Harry glared up at his former professor, but didn’t push it. Instead, he focused his ears on the noise outside – or rather, the absence of noise.

“Is he gone?” he whispered.

“Perhaps,” said Snape. “But he will be back.”

“What does he want with me?” said Harry miserably, pulling the cloak tighter around himself.

“Don’t ask me to fathom the way a werewolf’s mind works,” said Snape nastily, sitting back down on his transfigured bed. “I would have thought that he would take you to the Dark Lord, but he seems to want you for….other reasons.”

“He – he said I smelled good,” said Harry, trembling.

Snape snorted. “I always knew the beast was a tad unbalanced.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath at the jibe before scrambling off the floor and stumbling back to his bed. “Please,” he said, voice strangled. “Not now, don’t be like you are now. I can’t take it.” Harry shoved his cloak under his pillow, then pulled the covers over his body.

“I’m going to sleep. I can’t think anymore tonight. Wake me if anything happens,” said Harry.


Harry just rolled to his stomach and ignored him. Snape let out a string of curses, then sat in silence, waiting for any sound or signal of Fenrir’s return. It wasn’t until six in the morning that Snape had any reason to stand.

Snape grunted and lifted his chin sharply from his chest, where it had been resting for several hours. His neck gave an unpleasant groan, but Snape ignored it for the more pressing sound at the moment; voices could be heard in the distance.


* * *


A group of six wizards Apparated into the forest, each with varying looks of apprehension on their faces as the pink light of the rising sun hit them. Harry was supposed to have contacted them by midnight with the okay, but there had been no word.

“Alright, wands out,” said Remus Lupin, glancing from person to person, pulling out his own. Obediently, five other wands were drawn, and everyone’s eyes scanned the area.

“Nothing looks damaged,” muttered Charlie, looking at the spot where the safe house was supposed to be.

“Look at that rock though,” said Ron uneasily. “It’s been dug up from there,” he trailed off, pointing at a spot of disturbed soil. His face was pale, freckles bright. Hermione touched his shoulder gently.

“It looks to me like a boundary marker,” said Remus. “Let’s advance slowly now, stand in the formation like we practiced.”

Everyone shifted into a circle facing outward, and with Remus leading them, began to move slowly into the clearing.

“Oops!” Tonks tripped, and Bill caught her arm. Remus sighed.

“Tonks, perhaps you should be facing forward on this side…,”

“Oh, right,” said Tonks, flustered. Flushing slightly, she switched places with Hermione, and the group began to move again.

Inside the cottage, Snape began to twitch nervously. Potter had said six…. Even though two of them were still students, Snape had no doubt that they could overcome him easily. He’d have to either immobilize them as soon as they came in, or explain to them through the door of his predicament. He didn’t fancy hiding behind a door, however; he’d have to bring down the silencing charm if he did it that way, and it was just embarrassing to have to shout through a door like a Hufflepuff….

“Potter!” he hissed at the sleeping form. “Get up, they’re here….”

Harry made a sleepy sound, but did nothing except curl tighter around himself. Snape sneered and turned back to the door, raising his wand.

“What’s the password again?” said the voice of Nymphadora Tonks through the door.

“Pygmy Puffs,” said Charlie Weasley.

Snape’s entire body tensed as he heard a subtle click of the lock. The door swung open.


All six wizards froze. Then Tonks stumbled mid-step. It took three seconds before they realized they were free to move.

“Snape!” said Ron, shocked. All of them aimed their wands at him, identical looks of fury on their faces.

“I wasn’t aiming for you, you idiots,” spat Snape, wand still raised in defense. “I was aiming at that!”

Collectively, they all turned. Hermione gasped and hid her face; Bill’s back went ram-rod straight, and Remus breathed, “Fenrir?”

Fenrir Greyback was frozen in mid-leap, teeth bared, eyes fiery yellow.

“I think it would be best,” said Snape slowly. “If we were to stun him together; it would put him out for a long time.”

Fenrir couldn’t move, but it seemed as though his eyes filled with even more hatred.

Seven wands pointed at the werewolf, and Fenrir’s world went black for the second time in seven hours.

The naked werewolf fell like a stone, slumped over on himself. Remus spun around and aimed his wand at Snape again. The others followed suit.

“You have exactly five seconds to start talking,” said Remus, uncharacteristically harsh.

Snape glared, lip curling. “I just saved all of your lives, and your precious Boy-Who-Lived is as alive as he always has been. I think I deserve a little more time than that.”

“You don’t deserve anything, traitor,” said Bill, his face looking even more frightening than it already did – white raised scars marred his cheeks, and there was a vertical indentation coming down from his left eye.

Snape’s gaze flicked from one set of eyes to the other, before settling on Remus again.

“It’s not what you think,” he began. “It’s not how you thought.”

“It’s exactly how I think,” said Remus.

Snape took a step back into the room. “Let’s continue this inside. Who knows how many more beasts there are.” The veiled insult didn’t go unnoticed by Remus, who gave him a piercing look before advanced into the room, wand still pointed directly in between Snape’s eyes.

Behind Snape, Harry stirred.


“Harry!” said Hermione, running forward. Charlie caught her and held her back, eyes locked on Snape.

“It’s okay,” said Harry. “Really. He won’t do anything.”

“You can’t know that, Harry,” said Remus. “For all we know, he’s confounded you.”

Harry shook his head, and stood up. “No, he saved me. And he’s been with me all night, even when I was asleep. He didn’t do anything.”

Snape couldn’t help but clench his teeth in annoyance at the sound of the boy defending him, yet he slowly lowered his wand; now was not the time for pride.

“We should sit down,” said Snape, indicating the table and rickety chairs in the middle of the room. “You can keep your wands drawn on me, if it helps.”

“We didn’t ask your permission,” said Tonks. All seven sat down around the table, however, and Snape began to talk.

* * *


“I still don’t believe him,” said Ron, shoving his clothes haphazardly into a dresser. Hermione huffed and waved her wand at the mangled looking heap, and it shaped itself into neatly folded piles.

“Hermione, be careful, or I’ll start calling you Mum.”

Harry smiled weakly, grateful for their predictable banter. At least some things stayed the same.

Snape had finished his account to them all a few moments ago, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had broken off from the adults to unpack and, more importantly, talk.

“I believe him,” said Harry, interrupting their chatter.

Hermione looked at him shrewdly. “Why?”

Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore trusted him didn’t he? And it makes sense, what Snape said about Dumbledore asking him to kill him. Dumbledore was pleading.” Harry looked at the floor, remembering. “I’ve never heard him sound like that before.”

“Well you’d sound mental too, if you were about to be killed by someone you trusted,” said Ron gruffly.

“I didn’t say mental,” said Harry. “Just…like he needed Snape to do something really important –”

“Not kill him?”

Harry glared. “You weren’t there, you didn’t hear him. And he was telling the truth about Malfoy – he was terrified; he didn’t want to kill Dumbledore. And if Snape didn’t do it, they might have hurt Malfoy. And I saw them leave together, not with the other Death Eaters.”

Ron made a snorting sound, but said nothing.

“Besides,” said Harry tiredly. “It’s just easier to believe him, isn’t it? And Greyback –”

Harry suddenly broke off. He had almost forgotten about the abuse he had suffered the night before.

Hermione looked up from her lap. “Greyback?”

Harry sucked in a breath, then continued. “He mentioned something about Voldemort – ” Harry ignored Ron’s shudder. “missing Snape…like he hadn’t seen him in awhile. And then he said he wouldn’t tell Voldemort that he’d seen Snape if –”

Hermione stared at Harry, absorbed. “If what?” she prompted.

“If Snape gave me to him,” Harry finished quietly.

Ron finally sat down, comprehension dawning. “So, Snape didn’t give you up. But – if he truly was loyal to – to him – then wouldn’t he have taken Greyback up on his offer?”

“That’s what I think,” said Harry, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably.

Hermione pressed her lips together, then said, “I believe him too. Dumbledore always said Snape was loyal…like he knew something we all didn’t. And…I don’t think it’s what you thought, Harry.”

Harry nodded. His theory that Snape had known about the plot against his parents, then feeling upset about their deaths had little merit; Snape had hated his parents, after all.

“Well,” said Ron stretching. “I’m finished unpacking. Let’s check on the others.” Harry and Hermione stood and followed Ron into the magically expanded hallway. They spotted Tonks carrying a robe into the main room, and Ron raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s for Greyback. You know, for dignity.”

Hermione blushed, and Harry blanched.

“Where is he?” asked Ron.

“Outside,” said Tonks wearily. “We set up a paddock out there so we can keep an eye on him, maybe get some information out of him. Remus’ cover is long gone…we’ll have to find a new way to get undercover with the werewolves.”

“Wait,” said Harry, eyes widening. “You’re keeping him here?” Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, confused at his rising voice. “You’re going to talk to him?”

“Why not?” said Tonks, also looking confused.

“He…” Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, eyes pleading for support. “He’s dangerous, look what he did to Bill, Ron! What if he gets out of the paddock? He can’t stay here, he –”


Harry stopped, breath becoming short, and turned to see Bill and Remus entering the cottage, looking at him with serious expressions. Bill’s eyes drifted to the floor. Harry’s heart skipped a beat; he didn’t know how he knew it, but he knew that they knew.

“Harry, let’s go talk in my room, alright?” Remus asked gently, but his eyes conveyed that there would be no arguing.

Harry nodded, unable to meet Ron and Hermione’s questioning looks. Remus walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, then guided him back into the hallway and into the first bedroom, Bill following close behind. Harry found himself steered onto a bed, and Remus sat beside him while Bill chose to stand against the closed door. Harry bent his head and picked at a small hole in his pajama bottoms.

“How did you know?” he asked quietly.

“I could smell it,” said Remus.

Harry paused, then looked at Bill.

“I couldn’t,” said the scarred-redhead, crossing his arms. “My senses haven’t been affected by the bites. I just get a little restless around the full moon – like I want to be outside. And…well, I get a bit randy, to be honest.”

Harry’s stomach clenched and he looked down at his knees again.

“Sorry,” Bill muttered, looking embarrassed.

Harry just shook his head, feeling the sudden need to explain. “I – I don’t know how it happened. I know I shouldn’t have been out by myself, but I just thought if I could find the locket – things would be better.” Harry bit his lip, his eyes blinking rapidly.

“It’s not your fault, Harry,” said Remus, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You aren’t responsible for what Greyback did.”

“But I am!” Harry choked out. “He – he said I smelled good – he wasn’t going to do it, he was just going to hurt me, but then he smelled me, and…” Harry trailed off, and grabbed at his hair.

“You smelled good?” asked Remus, brow furrowed. Then he looked at Bill, a horrified expression coming over his face.

“What?” said Bill, getting panicked.

“He’s Scented him,” said Remus disbelievingly. Bill stepped back.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, his red eyebrows rising on his forehead.

“What?” Harry asked, eyes darting from one to the other. “What? What do you mean?”

Remus shushed Harry, grabbing his shoulders. “Harry calm down, I have to explain this to you. I need you to listen, and not panic…do you understand me?”

Harry stared, then nodded slowly.

Remus took a deep breath, then began. “Harry…one of the effects of being bitten by a werewolf in the transfigured form is that one’s senses become sharper. I can smell and hear better than the average human, and my sight in the dark has improved greatly. Harry, what else do you know about werewolves?”

Harry thought, then shook his head miserably. “Not much. I never got around to Snape’s essay that year.”

Remus’ mouth twisted wryly before he continued. “Werewolves take on mates, Harry. Like any other human would. It isn’t based on love like a marriage, however…more of compatibility based on sexual desires and instincts….” Remus paused to see how Harry was taking it. Harry didn’t look like he understood, so Remus continued.

“Every human has their own unique scent. But humans can’t smell this without some sort of aid…but a werewolf, with heightened senses, can smell it, Harry. It’s how they find their mate.”

Harry stared, then looked at the bedspread, unwilling to accept what Remus was telling him. Instead, casting around for something to say, he asked, “So does that mean Tonks is your mate?”

Remus blinked, caught off-guard. Then his eyes softened sadly. “No, I’m very sorry to say she’s not.”

“But you still love her?”

Remus sighed. “Yes Harry, I do indeed. And I plan to stay with her. However, if I ever were to come upon my mate…I’m afraid the pull would be impossible to deny.”

“What do you mean, the pull?”

“The moon,” said Bill from his spot against the door. “Even I can feel it. The beams of the moon drive me mental some nights…I said before, I feel really randy the closer it gets to the full moon…Fleur sometimes has to even seal the cracks of the doors to keep the light out.”

“The moon has power over us, Harry. It makes me want things; blood, prey, sex –” Harry’s stomach clenched again. “It causes me to change once a month into a monster.” Remus shook his head, saddened. “Remember my boggart, Harry? It was the moon. I fear it…not just the changing…I fear what it does to me.”

Harry looked at Remus’ stricken face; it was the first time he’d ever heard Remus speak so openly about being a werewolf. But then, he supposed it made sense now – he was close to being one himself.

“So…what’s going to happen to me?”

Remus shook his head. “I suppose you’ll be like Bill. You’ll feel the moon...but it will affect you differently I’m sure. You’ve not only been exposed to Greyback’s saliva, but his semen as well.” Harry’s stomach roiled. “The moon will tell you to submit to your mate. At least, that’s what I’ve been told and what I’ve observed when I was among them.”

“Why does it have to be me that submits?” asked Harry angrily.

“Harry, with wolf partners, there is an alpha figure and then the other wolf. Fenrir is clearly an alpha male.”

“Yeah, not to mention he’s the pack leader,” said Bill. “I’d imagine he’d be even more dominant.”

Harry leapt to his feet. “So, what, I’m just supposed to roll over for him every night?” Harry asked, his voice rising and face heating.

“No, Harry, no!” said Remus quickly, pulling him back to sit again. “Harry, I don’t know what we’re going to do at the moment, I must speak with him; I don’t know everything there is to know about wolf mating.” Remus ran a nervous hand through his grey-flecked hair. “If you don’t satisfy the mating aspect, you could both become ill, or Fenrir could go insane - you both could. I don’t know right now, Harry. Please don’t be angry with me.” Remus looked very distressed, and Harry calmed down, disturbed by his former professor's lost expression. There was a knock on the door, and Bill opened it to reveal Charlie, looking serious.

"Remus…he’s waking up." 



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