Sweet Puppy

Chapter 4

“You three stay inside,” said Remus, striding out through the open door of the cottage. Bill, Charlie, and Tonks followed him out, and Ron and Hermione scrambled to the window, kneeling on Harry’s bed to see the action. Harry dithered behind them, tugging on his shirt.

“Harry, c’mon, don’t you want to see?” said Ron, nose pressed to the glass. Harry made an indistinct noise, and reluctantly walked over to the pair. Over their heads, he could see the paddock. It looked very much like one of the dog-runs that Aunt Marge had kept her bulldogs in. Snape was scowling heavily at the man inside who apparently had just ripped the robe he had been offered to shreds.

“Hermione, you shouldn’t be looking,” said Ron in a superior way, reaching over to cover her eyes.

Hermione tutted and swatted his hand away. “It’s not like I haven’t seen one before, Ron.”

“WHAT?” said Ron, eyes positively bulging.

Harry tuned them out, his gaze fixed on the scene in front of him. Greyback was pacing back and forth, occasionally hitting the magical fence keeping him in, while everyone stood around it, looking grim. This was the first time Harry had actually gotten a clear look at the man since the end of June.

Greyback would certainly top six feet by more than a few inches if he stood up straight; he crouched instead, head thrust forward as though prepared to strike at any time. Unkempt black hair streaked heavily with grey just brushed against his huge shoulders, and the same hair adorned his face in a messy goatee and mustache. Harry had honestly never seen a grown man naked before – the oldest he had seen had been Fred and George once, and that had been an accident – time to study had not been had. Harry had plenty of time in this case, however; the idea of accepting the robe had obviously been extremely offensive to Greyback. Scars heavily ornamented his thick arms and expansive chest, standing out against the paleness of his skin, and his chest was covered with a smattering of dark hair, which continued down across his abdominal muscles and gathered in a dark trail, finally ending between his legs – Harry refused to look in that area any more closely. His eyes skipped instead to take in the powerful legs that had caught up with him so easily, even though Harry was exceptionally fast from running from Dudley and his gang all those years.

“Who was it? WHO was it?” Ron was demanding to know.

“Does it matter?” said Hermione airily, a haughty expression on her face.

“Of course it matters!” said Ron, face swelling in a way that reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley. Again, Harry was grateful for their squabbling; it was probably one of the only times he had been. Harry’s attention turned again to the conversation beyond the window.

Outside of the cottage, Remus was losing what little patience he had.

“Greyback,” said Remus, his jaw twitching reminiscent of Snape. “Please stop pacing and listen to me.”

Greyback continued to pace, but he snarled, “Say what you want, traitor. There’s nothing else to listen to.”

Remus closed his eyes for a moment, then said, “Greyback, I am not, as you say, a traitor. I was never loyal to you.”

“Did a good impression of it, on your back, slinking around on all fours,” said Greyback roughly, his attention on the cage as he grasped the metal fencing and attempted to shake it.

Remus’ nostrils flared, and he pointedly did not look at anyone around him. “One does what one has to in order to gain trust. Isn’t that right, Snape?”

Snape’s eyebrows rose along with his lip, but he did not deny it.

“Right,” said Remus, collecting himself. “Greyback, I would like you to tell us what you are doing here.”

“I already know what he’s doing here,” interrupted Snape. “He’s guarding the new entrance to the werewolves’ underground network.”

Remus glared at him. “Is there anything else you would like to share, Snape?”

Snape’s eyes bored into Remus’ then dropped to the ground. “No, that is all I know.”

Greyback, who had watched this exchange intensely, threw his head back and laughed; birds flew out and off at the rough sound. “Snape, loyal to Dumbledore! I never would have guessed that... Until of course, you deserted us after the showdown and took that tasty little morsel with you…tell me, Snape, is he as good as he looks?”

Snape sneered and said, “Unlike you, Greyback, I do not actively participate in cannibalism.”

Greyback sneered right back, then lowered his head and snuffed at the place where ground met fence.

“You won’t be able to get out, Greyback,” said Charlie, arms crossed. “I work with magical creatures; I’ve got a specialty in dragons. I’ve modeled your cage off of the one we use on the Hungarian Horntails, so you might as well pay attention.”

Greyback looked up at them all, his full concentration fixed on them for the first time. After appearing to think heavily, he sat down and lounged back on his elbows, a smug look on his face.

“Go on, ask what you will.” He began to pick at his teeth lazily, drawing back his nails to gaze at them every few moments.

Remus observed the process a few times, then was jolted back into awareness when the thought that the wolf was picking Harry out of his teeth hit him.

“The entrance is here, then?” he asked, voice strangled.

Greyback said nothing, just observed something caught under his nails.

“Fenrir, I know what happened to Harry last night,” he said abruptly. Greyback turned to look at him, mouth stretching into a wide smile.

“I figured you would, Lupin,” he said with gleaming eyes.

Tonks and Charlie looked confused but didn’t interrupt.

“Yes,” said Remus, looking lost. “Well, he’s told me some things that I would like confirmed, if you don’t mind.”

Greyback’s wolfish smile got even wider. “Yes Lupin, it’s true. The boy is an excellent fuck.”

Charlie’s mouth and arms dropped simultaneously in shock, and Tonk’s eyebrows disappeared into her violet hair. Bill let out a wolfish growl of his own, and drew his wand.

“Put that away, boy, or you’ll lose your hand as well as your twig,” Greyback snarled, leaping to his feet again.

“Stop!” said Remus, his voice carrying a desperate quality. Bill continued to glare at Greyback, but slipped his wand away. The werewolf smirked, then flopped down again, looking victorious.

“Greyback, you know what I meant. If you don’t confirm it yourself, then I’m going to leave you out here all night, under the moon, without so much as a whiff of him, and we’ll see how smug you are tomorrow!”

Greyback’s head snapped up and he snarled at Remus, who looked shocked at himself.

“Yes it’s true, you bloody traitor,” said Greyback, his voice rumbling deep in his throat. “He’s mine. And if you don’t give him to me,” the wolf said menacingly, slowly getting to his feet, eyes hard as flints. “The mother moon will drive us both insane. You’ll feel it too, Lupin – she’ll know it’s you keeping him from me.”

Remus swallowed visibly, then turned away from him, clearly suffering. Tonks, Bill, and Charlie gathered around him, upset looks on their faces while Snape continued to sneeringly watch Greyback.

“Remus, what’s going on?” asked Tonks distressingly.

“He’s Scented him,” said Remus, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Harry’s his mate; we cannot deny them of each other.”

“’Deny them of each other’?” Bill repeated angrily. “Harry doesn’t want to be with that thing!”

“You can only feel a taste of what the moon can do, Bill,” said Remus tiredly. “You don’t know what it’s like, when it’s angry. You, after all, have given in whenever the moon encourages you and Fleur.” Bill turned red. “You have never tried to resist,” Remus finished, looking haunted.

Inside the cottage, another distraught conversation was taking place.

“You mean he – he buggered you?” Ron was saying, looking sick.

“Ron!” said Hermione, horrified at his tactlessness, rubbing Harry’s shoulder. Harry was sitting on his bed, hands buried in his hair with Hermione next to him, while Ron stood.

Ron ran a shaking hand through his hair, a rather horrified expression on his face. “So – so you’re what? A werewolf now?”

Harry shook his head quickly. “No. I’m like Bill.”

Ron gaped at him and sat down heavily in a chair. “Blimey,” he said.

Harry laughed bitterly. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Hermione bit her lip at his tone. She couldn’t begin to imagine how Harry must be feeling, but she didn’t want him to become angry like he had after Sirius’ death.

“Harry,” she said delicately, not wanting to set him off. “Remus said you and Greyback are…mates?”

Harry nodded. He didn’t know what to say.

“I think I’ve read about one instance of mating between werewolves and humans…. It’s rare though.” Hermione paused, then continued hesitantly. “Known episodes of humans and werewolves crossing paths usually occur when the werewolf is in its transfigured form, which leads to the human getting bitten – so mates end up being werewolves as well…most werewolves tend to hide their identity when the full moon isn’t out.”

“No wonder,” muttered Ron.

Hermione threw him a caustic look. “Ron, you should know better. Remus is a perfectly fine human being.”

“Others don’t think so,” said Harry dispiritedly. He looked to Hermione, prompting her to continue.

“Oh – well, like I said, since werewolves hide their identities to the public, it’s hard to find a written report of a human mate, or any human for that matter, with a werewolf in human form – at least knowingly. I think in the case I read, once the woman realized her husband was a werewolf, she fled from him…she was his mate…he ended up going insane and killed himself, I think….”

Ron stared, open-mouthed, then said with false brightness, “That was a lovely story, Hermione. Thank you.”

“Oh shut up, Ron,” she said, crossing her arms.

“What about the woman? Did she go insane?” asked Harry.

“Oh, erm, I don’t think so…well, it didn’t say actually.”

Ron snorted. “That’s convenient.”

“Well, it is irresponsible journalism, to say the least,” said Hermione, as though this was the greatest offense one could commit.

Harry put a hand over his eyes, the absurdity of it all coming down on him like a sack of bricks.

“Hagrid once said everything happens to me,” he said dimly. “He’s right, you know.”

Hermione rubbed Harry’s shoulder, and Ron looked down at his hands.


* * *


The day passed too quickly for Remus’ liking. After discussing with the group as to what would be the best course of action, it was time for lunch. Remus had offered a turkey and cheese sandwich to Greyback, who had accepted it then threw it to the ground and stomped on it – Remus decided to skip trying to offer him dinner. A small moment of amusement had broken the tension in the cottage when Ron had discovered the food cabinet – much like the Room of Requirement, whatever you desired appeared when you opened it, and everyone had laughed at Ron’s almost constant opening and re-opening of the door.

After lunch, the adults began taking turns watching Greyback. Each tried to get more information out of him, but he ignored their questions, answering them with often obscene requests to see Harry. He had even tried to strike a deal with Remus.

“Give me fifteen minutes alone with him, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he had said. Remus still felt sick, thinking about it hours later.

“Remus,” said Harry after he had come back inside. “Can I talk with you?” Remus had nodded, and they went into his room again.

“Er…, this is about something I heard Greyback say when you were all outside before.” He paused, his hands twisting nervously. “He said something about…you being on your back. On all fours –” Harry broke off, looking extremely awkward.

“We did not have sex, Harry,” said Remus, sensing what he was trying to say. “He was referring to the way wolves show their loyalty. Wolves roll on their backs, exposing their stomachs to their leaders as a sign of respect and submission. That was what he was referring to. It was something I had to do, to gain their trust – or at least, their tolerance.”

“Oh,” Harry had said.

Remus watched Harry closely, then settled a soft hand on his shoulder. “Harry, I hate to say this under such upsetting circumstances but…I’ve never been more proud of you.” Harry swallowed but nodded. “Wizards older and wiser than you have fared much worse,” said Remus, squeezing his shoulder. Harry just nodded again, looking as though he wanted to be anywhere but there. “Harry, please, if you need to talk with me – if you have any questions, please ask. I’m sort of a ready-made handbook,” he finished, trying to coax a smile from the Harry. One of the corners of Harry’s mouth tugged upwards in gratitude, and he nodded again.

“Listen,” said Remus, sitting down. “Tonight is going to be a trial run, so to speak. We’ll see how things go…perhaps the effects will be minimal to you, Harry, but perhaps they won’t. After tonight, we’ll have a better understanding of how to go about things, alright?” Harry simply nodded again.

That conversation had been several hours ago, and it was fast approaching night. Outside, it was as though a vacuum was sucking every bit of light out of the forest, and Ron whistled, face pressed to the window.

“Now I know why they call it the Peruvian Black Dust Forest,” said Ron. “It looks just like Fred and George’s stuff.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s called the Black Dust Forest, Ronald. And the forest was named after the actual Peruvian Black Dust, not your brothers’ silly invention.”

“Well still,” he said stubbornly. “I can hardly see him anymore.”

Harry’s back tensed at the mention of Greyback, but he didn’t say anything. With the experience of years with the Dursley’s, he stood from the table and began collecting everyone’s finished plates, carrying them to the sink on what he called ‘the kitchen-side’ of the cottage.

“Sit down, Harry,” said Charlie, voice laughing. “We can do that.”

“No,” said Harry dismissively. “I need something to do right now – take my mind off things.”

Silence laden with tension hit the room with that statement, and everyone – though perhaps not Snape – shifted guiltily in their seats. Harry noticed their awkwardness, but felt almost pleased, bitterness rearing its ugly head in his mind. ‘They didn’t have to go through it, they deserve it…

“Well, if we’re all through with dinner, I trust none of you will mind if I go to bed – didn’t get much sleep last night, did I?” said Snape. Harry’s thoughts froze, and his hands shook as he wiped a plate clean.

“No, we don’t mind at all,” said Ron.

Snape glared at him. “Careful, Weasley; you are no longer my student during the summer.”

“If you’d be so kind as to take the last room, Snape,” said Remus, interrupting. Snape nodded curtly, then swept out of the room.

“Git,” Ron muttered.

Remus smiled indulgently, but said, “Let’s try to keep things civil, shall we?” He glanced up at the clock then turned to Tonks. “Time for bed then?”

Tonks popped the gum she’d been chewing and nodded. “’Night every one. ‘Night, Harry,” she said, getting up and leaving. Everyone began to follow suit, stretching and exchanging last minute small talk. Remus walked up behind Harry, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Would you like me to stay with you? I wish I could say you could room with Ron, but – under the circumstances –”

“I know,” said Harry shortly. He was getting a bit sick from Remus’ coddling words. Remus seemed to sense this, and dropped his hand.

“Harry, I recognize that tone, and I’ll be perfectly frank with you when I say I don’t want to hear it.” His manner was stern, reminding Harry of that night in third year when he had been berated for not turning in the Marauder’s Map. “You cannot afford to be angry with me. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Harry said nothing, feeling his throat tightening with pent up feelings that would surely hurt Remus if he voiced them.

“No,” he said finally. “I don’t need you out here.”

“That wasn’t what I asked, Harry,” said Remus.

Harry paused before saying quietly, “I’m sorry, Remus. I just – I want to be alone right now, alright?”

Remus nodded, and stepped back. “If the moon gets to be too much, I’d advise putting up a curtain. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell someone. We’re all on your side, Harry.” With that said, he silently left the room.

“Goodnight, Harry,” he heard Hermione say quietly.

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Yeah, goodnight.”

Then, Harry was alone, dishes washed, and with nothing to occupy him from the growing darkness. Desolately, he dragged his feet over to his bed beneath the window and began to change into his pajamas. After saying the necessary grooming spells before going to bed, Harry extinguished the lights and climbed under his covers, wrapping them tightly around himself. Just around this time last night, he had been leaving the cottage in hopes of finding the locket…Harry’s eyes began to close, lids flickering then sealing against the darkness.

Suddenly, light. All around him was overwhelmingly bright, cruel light; light that left Harry feeling naked, and bare. And howls – mournful, frightening howls. Harry began to run, desperate to get away. But the light followed him like a floodlight, exposing him to an entity that was catching up…

“No!” he shouted, knowing who it was. Barking laughter filled his ears, and he cried out as he was crushed to the ground, underneath that heaving body. His clothes were ripped away like tissue paper, and the light of the moon seemed to paralyze him as his body was assaulted. Hungry licks rained down on his skin and he curled away, whimpering – but clawed hands pulled him roughly to his back, and his legs were kicked apart, and then he was inside him, and he screamed and arched into the night, howls all around and in him –

And his eyes flew open as his orgasm ripped through him like he knew the claws could, and his arm flew to cover his mouth as he screamed hoarsely, thighs trembling as wave after wave hit his shuddering body. Outside, a howl met his ears, and he squeezed his eyes shut, a sob passing through his lips. After what seemed like hours, he stopped shaking, and he sat up weakly and grabbed at his wand on the bedside table, before muttering a curtain into existence over the window. Then he looked down at his soaked pajamas shamefully, wondering what on earth was wrong with him.


* * *


In the hours of the early morning, Harry continued to lay awake. It couldn’t be past three yet, and all was quite outside, except for the occasional howl. Each time he heard the sound, he shivered, and wondered what was happening to the wolf outside. Was he going crazy? Could the results of their separation take effect so quickly? For Harry had not only experienced his dream, but also intense feelings of restlessness and guilt. At first he had no idea why he was feeling this way; then, he had noticed a sliver of light against his pillow. It was the moon, he had realized. And Harry instantly understood the way Remus had talked of it, describing the moon as though it was a person – it was as though the moon was telling him that he should be outside, and not only outside, but with his mate, which disgusted Harry. Another howl rent through the air outside, and Harry groaned. ‘Why couldn’t he just shut up?’ he thought angrily. It wasn’t as though howling like that was going to get him anything.

Crazily, Harry decided he would go out and tell him so. Yes, that was what he would do – he was tired and wanted to get some sleep, and the wolf’s carrying on had to stop if that was going to happen. Harry was so preoccupied with searching for his slippers and wand that he didn’t even notice the moon’s pleased response. Harry jammed his feet into his shoes, threw his Invisibility cloak over his shoulders, and slipped out through the door.

Walking as silently as he could, Harry crept towards the paddock. The moon twinkled above and illuminated the werewolf, who was slumped against one corner of the fence, his back to Harry.

“I can smell and hear you, you foolish pup.”

Harry froze instantly, clutching at his cloak, the thought that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea entering his mind.

Greyback turned to face him, shifting to his knees, hands grasping at the fence.

“Take that damned thing off,” he growled.

Harry kept still for a few more moments, then revealed himself shakily. Greyback made a pleased sound, then sat back on his heels, gleaming yellow eyes assessing him.

“I could smell you before, you know,” he said, his gaze raking Harry’s lithe form. “What were you doing in there - pulling at yourself?”

Harry gasped and stumbled back, the werewolf’s amused laugh hitting his body harshly. Greyback’s eyes trailed down from his face to his groin, and he inhaled deeply, as though he could still smell the evidence of Harry’s orgasm.

“Just tell me one thing,” he said wickedly. “How wet did you get?”

Harry gasped again, and turned and fled, Greyback’s barking laughs following him all the way back to the cottage. 



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