Sweet Puppy

Chapter 9

The wind howled in the dark, and Harry shivered under his Invisibility cloak; he really shouldn’t have gone wandering like this without telling anyone – didn’t this sort of thing always lead to trouble? But he was sick of the cottage and sick of feeling like a pining housewife – so he was going for a god-damned walk.

It had been almost a week – a week since the fight; a week since he had been dismissed from Fenrir’s embrace; a week since he had told Harry to go inside where he belonged. The next morning, Fenrir announced to everyone that he was going back to the cave – he had to report his whereabouts, apparently. But Harry didn’t buy that; the werewolf obviously didn’t think a lowly human was worthy of him… which was just fine with Harry; he didn’t need or want Fenrir either. It was much easier to think rationally under the light of the sun; his sentimental feelings had to have been triggered by the moon, and therefore, he didn’t want to be held or touched or kissed…especially kissed – by a monster.

“Bastard,” muttered Harry, kicking a stone out of the carved path to the stream. He knew this trail by heart now – he had followed Fenrir enough times to know the way. Harry paused – why was he even coming to the stream? Bad memories were associated with this place. Yes, bad, terrible memories…he remembered being pressed to a solid, hard body…water sloshing around his waist…strong clawed hands pulling his legs apart–

“No,” Harry whispered angrily. He didn’t want to think about it…no matter how intense and new and incredible it had felt. He didn’t want it, he hadn’t wanted it.

Hmm…you like this, boy?’

“Fuck!” Harry sobbed, as Fenrir’s rumble filled his head.

‘That’s more like it’.

Harry gasped as the moon seemed to pulse above him, and he began to turn back, away from the stream ahead. His progress was immediately halted as he collided with something heavy and panting.

“What are you doing alone in these parts, boy?” Fenrir growled, yanking the Invisibility cloak off of Harry’s head.

“What – were you following me?” demanded Harry, jerking out of the werewolf’s grasp, surprisingly un-alarmed by the werewolf being there.

Fenrir smiled, showing off his sharp teeth. “Only a little.”

“Well you shouldn’t have bothered,” Harry snapped, sidestepping the other man and clutching the cloak around him. “I was just going back.”

Before Harry could even walk two steps, Fenrir had circled back around and blocked Harry’s path.

“Why waste the night, puppy? Lupin and the others don’t know you’re here,” growled Fenrir, eyes gleaming lustfully. “Let’s not disappoint her.” Fenrir cocked his head in acknowledgment to the moon, then leered down at Harry.

“Yes, because I’d hate to do that,” said Harry sarcastically. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew he had gone too far. Fenrir’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he stepped so close that Harry had to lean back to see his face. He gasped when Fenrir suddenly seized his chin, claws indenting slightly. He turned Harry’s face to the side and sniffed, more as a scare tactic than any sort of detector.

“I don’t think your bruise is gone yet – it’s a bit early to be asking for a new one, isn’t it?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he pulled back. “Don’t – I mean it–”

“No, I won’t,” said Fenrir, rasping. “Besides, you’re not mad with me – you’re mad at yourself.”

“Why’s that?” asked Harry, still wary of Fenrir’s right hand.

Fenrir chuckled his rumbling chuckle. “You’re angry because you thought you wanted to be alone tonight – but face it, boy. You’re happy now that I’m here,” Fenrir finished with a smug grin.

Harry gaped at him, so appalled by the other man’s arrogance that he couldn’t speak.

Fenrir smirked and stepped forward. “See? You’re not even arguing.” Then he stepped even closer and pulled Harry to his chest.

“I don’t think so,” said Harry, attempting to sound forceful. Fenrir guffawed and ruffled Harry’s hair, amused by the boy’s protests.

“What’s so funny?” asked Harry, shoving his small hands against Fenrir’s brutish arms.

“You, boy. You think I care what you want,” replied Fenrir, grinning nastily.

“Fuck you, I can’t believe you!” shouted Harry, too incensed to care about the growl that began in Fenrir’s throat. “You leave for no reason, for a whole god-damned week, push me away, and then you come back and act like everything’s fine?” There was a pause, and Harry swore he saw Fenrir’s eyes flash like golden lightning, as though he was having a visible epiphany. 

“Ah, what’s this?” asked Fenrir, voice a velvety whisper. Harry stopped glaring and stared up at the man, suddenly aware that he was pulled flush against him.

“Are you turning into a little nag?” Fenrir asked, eyes gleaming with mirth. Harry didn’t know what to say, so he stared up at Fenrir, lips pressed firmly together.

Fenrir smiled a wry, almost smug smile. “It didn’t take the great Harry Potter too long to settle into his housewife role, did it?”

“What!” exclaimed Harry, squirming renewed. “I am not! I meant that I don’t think it’s fair for you to expect–”

“Fair, fair, fair,” growled Fenrir, his clawed hands releasing Harry’s arms and sliding sensually down the boy’s back. “Since when has life been fair for you?”

Harry’s cheeks became flushed as Fenrir’s large hands slid further down his back. “Not ever – er…do you have to do that?”

Fenrir grinned. “What? This?”

Harry squeaked as Fenrir’s hands slid over his arse cheeks possessively and pulled him even tighter against his pelvis.

“Yes, that!” Harry was standing on his tip-toes now, trying to pull himself out of Fenrir’s hands, but his grip was strong.

“Hmm…yes. Yes, I have to,” said Fenrir, chuckling.

Perhaps it was the moon, or perhaps it was simply the friction that was building between the two bodies, but Harry found himself beginning to pant, and he couldn’t stop his breaths. Fenrir chuckled again, and leaned down to breathe warmly against Harry’s ear. Harry whined and dropped his head to Fenrir’s expansive chest in defeat. ‘It always happens this way’, thought Harry. ‘We fight, I protest…he makes me feel like this…and then…’

Fenrir nuzzled Harry’s neck contentedly, and nibbled and sucked at the pale skin with relish. Harry sighed quietly, and let out the breath he had been holding when Fenrir’s nose butted against his face and his tongue slid up the line of Harry’s cheek bone. It was then that Harry realized something both disturbing and confusing; he had come out into the woods because he had hoped to run into Fenrir. He had wanted to see him, he had missed him. Harry didn’t want to fight anymore – he sighed and wrapped his arms around Fenrir’s neck, and didn’t protest as Fenrir lowered him to the ground.


* * *


“I’m leaving,” Snape declared, throwing a thick traveling cloak around his shoulders. “The ingredients must be collected for the potion... we don’t want a monster in our presence, now do we?” Remus grimaced. “I should be back tomorrow night.”

Everyone watched in silence, suspicions unspoken as Snape crossed the room.

“Goodnight,” said Snape, and he opened the door, and with a swish of his cloak, was gone.

“Well,” said Bill, stretching his arms to the ceiling. “Who else is waiting for our impending doom to come down on us?”

Remus sighed heavily and rested his head in his hands. “We have to put our trust in him, Bill. Otherwise…I’m a danger to everyone in this house.”

A current seemed to course through everyone else in the room; they had forgotten that Fenrir wasn’t the only werewolf around them.

“Where’s Harry?” asked Ron suddenly.

Remus turned to face Ron sharply. “He’s sleeping in your room…isn’t he?”

“Oh,” said Ron, “Right.”

“Ron,” said Remus lowly, leaning forward. “Is he or isn’t he?”

Ron looked guiltily around at everyone. “Well he was,” he said hopelessly. “I called for him to come to the meeting, but he didn’t answer. I thought he was already here–”

Ron,” Hermione admonished.

“Maybe he went for a walk,” said Bill. “Might have been restless…the full moon is getting closer.”

“He should know better,” said Remus with barely contained anger. “We’re going to find him. Tonks, Charlie – you two stay with them.”


* * *


Harry whined and buried his face in the confines of his arms as Fenrir dragged his tongue down his curved spine. Fenrir growled above him, nuzzling the small of Harry’s back with his nose as he grabbed Harry’s thighs and pulled him up to his knees. A clawed hand, tangled in wild black hair, kept the boy’s head to the ground, and Fenrir let out an approving whistle.

“I’m enjoying the view, pup.”

Harry could only whimper in embarrassment, but his stomach clenched and his balls tightened at the idea of being presented in such a way. He couldn’t understand why Fenrir’s taunts always seemed to make him harder, but he didn’t much care at the moment – Fenrir’s panting breaths were ghosting over his hole, and he suddenly wanted to be filled, he wanted Fenrir to fuck him, to be in him.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Fenrir glanced down at the sound to see the boy’s face: flushed cheeks and a panting mouth, teeth grasping at a red bottom lip and eyes shut tight; it was beautiful.

“’Yes’ what?” asked Fenrir, voice rasping.

“I – I mean…if you want,” said Harry, almost choking over the words. “You can – you can do it.”

“Do what?” Fenrir couldn’t help but tease the boy.

“Oh,” Harry gasped and buried his face in his arms. “You – you know…you can – oh, God.”

Fenrir bit into the boy’s quivering shoulder. “Giving me permission, eh? You think I need it?” He nuzzled the mark and wrapped his arms around Harry’s chest.

“You – you don’t need it,” Harry was gasping now, pushing himself back against Fenrir’s cock. “But – I’m giving it – anyway.”

Fenrir rose to his knees, a smug grin on his face. He grasped Harry’s hips and gave a gentle shove against the boy’s backside, grinning when he heard an answering sob.

“You want to give me permission, boy? Then give it.”

“Oh – ah…you…you can….”

“Fuck you?” supplied Fenrir, bending back over the boy to bite an ear.

“Oh, fuck,” sobbed Harry, shoving himself backwards.

“That’s good enough,” growled Fenrir. Quickly, he brought his hand to his mouth and spit. Harry was trembling and panting, and Fenrir roughly applied his saliva to his own cock, mixing it with the fluid already gathering at the tip. The whole forest seemed to be coming alive; the branches were rustling in impatience, wind was urging him forward, and strange, unknown animalistic sounds were filling his ears, and above him, the mother moon was pulsing with the beat of his own heart.

“Fuck,” Fenrir growled, leaning over Harry and digging his teeth into the back of the slender neck. “Needed this too fucking long.”

Harry whimpered underneath him; he understood how the werewolf felt, although he hadn’t known he had until then. And there it was, Fenrir’s cock, hot and wet and huge against him. Harry moaned and pushed back.


“Shit, slow down, or you’ll finish it,” Fenrir hissed, digging his claws into Harry’s hips. “Let me,” he rumbled, licking the bite mark he had created earlier. Fenrir bared his teeth as he pushed another inch into the boy; he was so tight – it would be over in minutes if he didn’t slow down.    

Fenrir took a few more deep breaths. His mate was being unusually silent beneath him, and Fenrir decided he didn’t like it. He grinned evilly, then shoved forward.

Harry cried out and lurched forward. “God,” he gasped.

“If you say so,” Fenrir said through clenched teeth, recovering from the move. “Alright,” he gasped into Harry’s ear, sweat beginning to bead all over his body. “Can’t hold back anymore, remember? As I said before…it’s not in my nature.” He licked Harry’s neck again, then whispered cruelly into his ear, “This won’t hurt a bit.” Then he reared back and slammed all the way into his mate.

The pleasure was so intense for Fenrir that he barely heard his mate scream. Red and white shot across under his eyelids, and he grabbed Harry by the shoulder and hair, holding the boy still while he pulled out and shoved back in.

Harry couldn’t see anything except white, except the white was really black – but it looked white. This was the only rational thought he had in his head as he was fucked. His body didn’t seem to be in his control as he was rocked back and forth by Fenrir’s thrusts, knees getting sore and palms sweaty and slipping against his cloak. His head hurt, but that was because Fenrir was pulling on his hair. He knew he was screaming, crying and moaning, but he couldn’t hear himself; Fenrir was making twice as much noise as he was, growling and roaring, only pausing to shout some sort of curse or obscene compliment. Blood was pounding in his ears, and his arse and spine felt like they were on fire. Fenrir’s thrusts were becoming shallower, and his hips were rolling up. Harry whimpered as a tingling sensation began in his balls, and he pushed back, encouraging the feeling. Fenrir growled and spat something that sounded vaguely like, “bitch,” but he couldn’t be sure. Fenrir rolled his hips roughly this time, and Harry choked. A bolt of lightning had just gone off against his balls, and his cock had twitched against his stomach.

“You liked that?” Fenrir growled harshly, spit hitting Harry’s back.

“Mm…oh.” Harry dropped his head to the ground.

“You liked it?” Fenrir shoved up again, and Harry gasped.

“Ah – yes, yes, yessss.”

“Fuck, take it boy, fucking–”

“Oh, God!” Harry gasped. So this was what fucking was. It felt incredible – pleasure fused with pain. Fenrir was so big and hard, and hitting something inside him that was making him see sparks, and he shoved himself back on Fenrir’s cock, desperate to feel more. Fenrir suddenly sat down on his heels, pulling Harry up and then down against his lap, and Harry made a most embarrassing whine as Fenrir drove even deeper inside him. Fenrir’s hands had left his hair, and were running up and down from his cock to his stomach to his chest, leaving faint scratches and trails of heat. It took Harry a few seconds to realize that this meant Fenrir wasn’t controlling the pace anymore, and it was he who was impaling himself on Fenrir’s cock. This only made him moan and shove himself down harder. He swore he heard Fenrir laugh, and then Fenrir bit his neck.

Fenrir grinned around his mouthful as Harry whimpered and squirmed on his cock. God, he was so deliciously tight. He bit down harder, and gasped as the boy’s tight hole clenched spasmodically around him. Harry was making a continuous mewling noise, like a frightened kitten, writhing in his lap. The boy was close.

“Tell me how it feels,” Fenrir growled.

Harry sobbed and twisted violently in Fenrir’s lap. “Hurts but…good…God, its good, please, fuck!”

“C’mon, boy… c’mon, come. Let me hear you,” Fenrir rasped, pinching and pulling on the boy’s nipples.

“Ungh, ah, oh fuck, Fenrir,” gasped Harry, and he threw his neck back against Fenrir’s shoulder. Fenrir narrowed his eyes, and he knew with sudden clarity that Harry wanted him to bite his neck again. Fenrir’s balls clenched. He bit Harry hard in the neck at exactly the same time as his come exploded from his cock and filled his mate. Harry screamed and seemed to lift off his lap with the force of his own orgasm, and they both fell forward, Harry’s breath crushing out of his lungs as Fenrir’s heavy body collapsed on top of him. Everything was hazy in his brain as he weakly continued to pant, and he moaned when he felt the wet heat that was filling and dripping out of him.

Fenrir grunted above him, then thrust forward a few more times, emptying his come into his mate’s body. The boy beneath him was panting harshly, along with little broken moans at the end of each breath. Fenrir groaned and pushed himself up, shoving his sweaty forehead in between the boy’s shoulder blades for leverage as he pulled his cock from the boy’s entrance. As soon as he was out, he grabbed the boy’s shoulder and pulled him over and onto his back. Harry protested weakly for a second with a startled moan as his arse was pressed against his cloak, but then fell silent as Fenrir descended upon his chest, spent cock pressing snuggly against his stomach. Fenrir’s shaggy head rested upon his narrow, heaving chest, and dumbly, Harry reached up and trailed a shaking hand through the black and grey-streaked tresses. He felt Fenrir rumble against his chest, and he did it again. Fenrir lifted his head and nudged a red, sweat-slicked nipple before roughly licking it. They continued to rest there, panting against each other, Harry playing a small hand through Fenrir’s hair while Fenrir lapped against Harry’s chest, licking up sweat and replacing it with his spit. To Fenrir, it was a possessive gesture, simply another way of marking his mate, but he couldn’t deny that he liked the way Harry’s breath hitched whenever his tongue traced a nipple or skated along a fragile collarbone.

“Feel good?” he rumbled, nuzzling the boy’s slender chest.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, still petting Fenrir’s hair.

Fenrir grinned, then roughly repositioned himself to that he was directly above Harry’s face, leering down at him.

“You liked my cock up your arse too.”

Harry stared, then said plainly, “You’re very blunt.”

Fenrir raised an eyebrow. “No blush. That’s a first, puppy.”

Harry shut his eyes. “I suppose I’m too worn out to be ashamed.”

Fenrir barked his sharp laugh and his eyes narrowed with mirth. “I’m sure it will all hit you once you’ve rested up. You’ll remember every squeal and whimper and whine.”

Harry scrunched up his face. “I’m already remembering….” Suddenly Harry’s eyes flew open. “Hey,” he said, looking irritated. “Did you call me a bitch when you were – you know.”

Fenrir stared, then burst into a rumbling chuckle. “That’s the first thing you remember?”                                        

“Well it’s not the first time you’ve called me that. Is it some sort of werewolf thing? Like ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’?” This time, Harry’s tone was teasing.

“Shut it, boy,” growled Fenrir, but his eyes were dancing.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. He sighed, and wrapped his arms around Fenrir’s neck, and Fenrir obliged the touch, leaning his forehead against Harry’s and shutting his eyes tiredly. He exhaled heavily against Harry’s mouth, and Harry’s lips parted automatically – suddenly, he wasn’t tired. Fenrir apparently was though; his eyes were shut, and his breathing was becoming steady. Harry bit his lip. His mouth…it was so close…he could feel Fenrir’s unkempt stubble brushing against his chin, and his even breathing in his own mouth. Fenrir’s thin lips were full from all the attention he’d been giving to Harry’s chest and Harry shifted slightly underneath him. Harry blinked nervously; he didn’t want to spoil this moment, but….

Timidly, Harry moved his lips as close to Fenrir’s as he dared. He huffed a bit, and Fenrir slowly opened his eyes.

“What now, puppy?”

Harry swallowed nervously, then licked his lips.

Fenrir blinked as he felt the boy’s gentle tongue flicker in between their mouths. He watched as Harry’s eyes were becoming darker with need, and his own eyes narrowed. Considering, Fenrir swiped his tongue against Harry’s lips.

Harry gasped, his mouth opening wider. His heart was beating faster than it had all night, and he wrapped his arms and legs around Fenrir and darted his tongue after the werewolf’s. Fenrir stiffened, then pushed his forehead against Harry’s, halting the moment. This was strange. He’d never licked another’s mouth before. It was far too close to the human act of kissing for his taste. But Harry looked so…excited. His eyes were bright, and his mouth was curling at the edges in a most intriguing way…. Fenrir licked at one of the corners and Harry moaned, licking after Fenrir’s tongue. Fenrir gently touched his tongue to Harry’s, and before long, Fenrir found himself exploring the inside of Harry’s mouth, their lips barely touching. He licked the curves of Harry’s teeth, glided against the inside of his cheeks, and he dragged his tongue against the roof of Harry’s mouth, eliciting a most arousing gasp. Before long, lips were swiping, tongues were clashing, and Harry was whimpering and clinging to Fenrir as though life depended on it. Fenrir growled against Harry’s mouth; he’d never considered how dominating he could be by kissing someone. The way Harry was submitting, opening his mouth wide and gasping for it, eyes shut and cheeks flushed – it was stunning.


* * *


“This way,” said Bill, wand trained on a trail of disturbed leaves. “He must have come this way.”

“Yes,” said Remus, discreetly sniffing the air. “I still can’t believe he left without telling anyone.”

“He’s a kid, Remus,” said Bill. “How did you cope with it when you were his age?”

“He’s not a werewolf, Bill,” said Remus tightly.

“I didn’t mean that,” said Bill, starting forward down the path. “I meant sex.”

Remus stiffened. “I – didn’t think this had anything to do with that.”

“Of course it does,” said Bill. “I told you, it’s the moon. Surely you can feel it?”

“I can,” said Remus agreeably. “But I am strong enough to ignore it. I suppose I overestimated Harry’s strength.”

“Don’t say that,” said Bill angrily. “It has nothing to do with strength, and you know it. Don’t take your anger at Greyback, or yourself, out on Harry.”

“This has nothing to do with me,” said Remus, walking faster.

“Right. Nothing at all – you couldn’t care less that Harry’s looking to someone else to guide him.”

“Stop, Bill,” snapped Remus. “You don’t know what I think.”

“Yeah, I do. You’re jealous and you’re angry –”

“I am concerned for his safety!” shouted Remus, stopping in his tracks.

“And you’re doubting yourself because you lost Sirius. You think you could have prevented it, don’t you? And now you’re mad that you couldn’t protect Harry when Greyback got him.”

Remus clenched his teeth and balled his fists. “Bill…I appreciate you trying to understand, but listen to me when I tell you to stay out of this.”

“The hell I will,” said Bill, stopping as well. “We all need to stick together, especially now. And stop blaming yourself for what happened. Greyback’s his mate, remember? He would have gotten him eventually.”

Remus took a deep shuddering breath. “He deserves so much more,” he murmured quietly.

“More than what? More than Greyback, you mean?”

Remus stared off into the night. “Harry deserves someone who will love him, care for him. He deserves everything in the world… love, a family, a life… including,” Remus turned to Bill. “A life free of the awful burden I carry.”

Bill stared, eyes troubled. “Harry’s not the werewolf, Remus. Greyback is.”

Remus shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time. No matter how careful they are – all it takes is one slip – one lapse in judgment, and Harry’s as good as dead.”

“Don’t talk like that – you’re not dead, so why would Harry be?” asked Bill, anxious. “And I’m not saying it wouldn’t be awful if Harry became a werewolf, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world –”

“No!” Remus shouted, spinning away. “It would, Bill. It would. It would mean that I have failed.”            

The two men stood in silence for a moment, emotions playing across their faces. “Remus…,” said Bill uncertainly. “I was wrong about what I said earlier. Harry isn’t a kid. He’s never been a kid.”

Remus brought his head up and met Bill’s solid gaze, his eyes drifting across the marred face of his comrade.

“It’s just…don’t feel like you should be responsible for his actions. Harry chose to go out that night – he chose to go out this night…he chose to go save Sirius. You couldn’t have stopped him…just like you can’t stop him from wanting to be with Greyback.”

Remus shut his eyes. “Then…you think he truly wants to be with Greyback?”

Bill let out a breath. “Yes. I – can’t you smell it?”

Remus swallowed and shut his eyes. “Yes…even now I can smell it.” He turned to face Bill. “And therein lurks the danger. Harry wants him so much that his judgment is being compromised. What made him go out tonight? Want. It’s what will get him killed!” Remus turned angrily back to the path, pace renewed. “He needs to learn to control himself, to ignore the need.”

“Like you?” asked Bill, glaring.

Remus spun around, eyes flashing. “Don’t,” he commanded. “This is not about me.” Bill just gazed back at him, eyes cool. “Now, let’s find Harry before who knows what else does.”  



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