Sweet Puppy

Chapter 13

The morning sun filtered through the window above Harry’s bed, warming the sleeping boy and the surrounding bed covers. Harry grumbled and pushed the covers down, completely unaware of his actions. He made a few more noises before turning on his stomach and burying his head in the pillow. The werewolf, who had been awake for quite some time, grinned mischievously.

By the time Harry began to wake up, his pants were pulled down to his knees and his shirt was bunched up under his arms. He felt hot, wet breath against the backs of his thighs and strong hands were gripping his waist. It registered dimly in his mind that he should not be half-naked, nor should someone be licking at the top of his arse…

“Hey!” Harry shouted, twisting away from Fenrir’s questing mouth. The accused werewolf looked up with a hazy expression, eyes fogged with arousal. He managed to look slightly sheepish, which was odd in itself, before he moved forward again, nipping at Harry’s jutting hipbone.

“I said ‘hey’!” Harry squawked, wriggling to a sitting position on the bed. Fenrir growled in annoyance and sat up as well.

“I haven’t gotten any from you since the Malfoy brat walked in on us –”

“Oh, one whole day! How terrible for you!” said Harry angrily, yanking up his pajama bottoms. “I can’t believe you were trying to do something while I was asleep!”

Fenrir’s eyes dimmed and he slumped a bit, grumbling, “Was hoping to wake you up with it – thought you’d like it.”

 Harry stared incredulously. “Why would I like that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” asked Fenrir menacingly. “Maybe I should remind you just how much you like my tongue in your arse.”

Harry snatched the blankets up around himself and threw Fenrir his best glare. “You’re not doing anything to me right now – and you did ‘get some’ since Malfoy, remember, we –” Harry stopped, remembering the ensuing conversation with Remus about love and how Fenrir had looked when they had moved together in the bed. “Anyway,” he said, flushing slightly and hoping to cover his pause. “I wouldn’t want you to do that.”

A leer overcame Fenrir’s irritated features. “But I would,” he growled. He got up onto all fours and scrambled forward, grabbing Harry by the shoulders and managing to wrestle him onto his stomach before pressing himself on top of him, threading his strong fingers through messy black hair.

“Don’t struggle,” he rasped in Harry’s ear then nipping at it as punctuation. “You’ll open my wounds if you do.”

Harry shuddered, disgusted at Fenrir’s words. “Get off of me or I’ll yell for Remus,” he hissed through gritted teeth. Remus’ words were ringing in his head, his talk of love. Fenrir didn’t love him.

“Thought you had a silencing charm up,” murmured Fenrir as he nipped and sucked at Harry’s neck and shoulders.

“I’ll get rid of it,” he growled, clawing at the sheets.

“Calm down, puppy. I won’t hurt you,” whispered Fenrir in what could only be termed a consoling fashion. It was so uncharacteristic of Fenrir that Harry was momentarily stunned into stillness.

“I know you’re not going to hurt me,” grumbled Harry after he regained his momentum. “I just – we don’t have to do anything.”

Fenrir blocked Harry’s protests from his ears and slid his hand possessively up the back of Harry’s thigh, producing an involuntary gasp. He grinned as he moved his hand down between the boy’s thighs before cupping his balls and squeezing.

“Fuck – Fenrir – don’t,” moaned Harry, pressing his legs together tightly. But was he trying to stop Fenrir from touching him, or was he preventing Fenrir from stopping? He could no longer tell and he buried his face in his pillow, letting out a whimper and gripping the sheets. He felt ashamed as his cock began to swell with arousal.

Fenrir moaned at Harry’s protest, excited by his resistance. “Keep talking,” he growled, resuming his nips and sucks to Harry’s neck and ear. He pressed his body down on top of Harry, moving his own legs between Harry’s in order to spread them as far as he desired.

Harry whimpered as his legs were forced apart and he arched his back like a cat, pressing himself back against Fenrir’s palm. He heard Fenrir growl, then gasped as Fenrir rubbed his hand up and down the covered crease of his arse.

“So warm,” Fenrir rumbled. “You want to be filled….”

“Ah – no,” Harry gasped even as he spread his thighs even farther apart.

“Yes,” Fenrir hissed, his voice so rough that it seemed as though Harry could feel it against his neck. “You want me to lick you. You want me to finger you. You want me to fuck you while you beg for me to stop.”

“God!” Harry cried, his hips pumping into the mattress, the rickety bed creaking something fierce. Fenrir’s laugh above him was harsh. Fenrir reared up onto his hands and knees and wrenched Harry’s pajama bottom off, then tackled his shirt, quickly maneuvering Harry’s arms out of it. Harry gasped at Fenrir’s quickness before pressing his face once more to the pillows, completely ashamed of how aroused he was – his precome had soaked into the sheets and was making his lower abdomen uncomfortably sticky. Fenrir pressed his body on top of his once more, grasping Harry’s wrists and moving them above his head, then moved his mouth to Harry’s ear.

“First I’m going to get you nice and wet,” he rasped, tracing Harry’s ear with his tongue, then grazing it with his teeth. Harry shivered. “I’ll lick your hole, slow and gentle, then fast and rough ‘til you beg for more. Then I’ll tease you with my fingers, puppy. You’ll like my fingers – they’re nice and thick, and you know you like it thick –” Harry shook his head weakly as he let out a weak noise of protest. “Yes, you do, puppy. You love my thick cock – you love it opening you, filling you, breeding you –”

“No,” Harry gasped. “I’m not a girl – you can’t do that, it’s not ‘biological’” he sobbed, remembering what Remus had said. The sex was just a substitute for ‘biological purposes’, it didn’t mean anything.

“No, I can’t,” whispered Fenrir tenderly, giving Harry’s cheek a gentle lick. “But you’re still my bitch.”

Harry’s eyes widened. He felt a strange sort of warm balloon filling in his chest – Fenrir had definitely sounded affectionate, he hadn’t imagined that. ‘My bitch….’“Is it some sort of werewolf thing? Like ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’?” he had asked Fenrir once. The sex wasn’t just a substitute for mating. It was something more… Remus was wrong. Harry had never been gladder to discover an adult’s mistake. Fenrir wanted to fuck him because he wanted to, not to fulfill some odd natural instinct. He wondered if he was insane for being so pleased that Fenrir considered him his bitch. ‘Probably’, he thought with a small smile before sighing and finally relaxing against the bed.

Fenrir grinned above him, pleased to see his mate’s lips curve. Now he wanted to see them open in a gasp while his little pink tongue flicked against his white teeth as he was taken.

“Good puppy,” he praised, nuzzling at the boy’s black hair. His hands trailed down from Harry’s wrists, tickling his sides then coming to a final stop at Harry’s buttocks. “Now… play with me puppy,” he rumbled. “Tell me to stop.”

Harry gasped and felt his erection throb. What was wrong with him, why was this exciting? This was so wrong… he moaned as Fenrir kissed down his spine, licking each vertebrae then tonguing the spot just before the crease of his arse. “Fenrir,” he breathed, clenching and releasing his fists. “Please…don’t.” His voice cracked and he buried his face in the pillow, hoping he hadn’t disappointed Fenrir. He heard the werewolf growl behind him and whimpered when he felt a wet tongue lap at the top of his arse. Strong hands gripped his cheeks then slowly parted them. He felt Fenrir blow against his newly exposed entrance and he blushed as he felt it twitch in response. Fenrir chuckled behind him.

“I think you want me to keep going, puppy,” he growled, eyeing the boy’s tiny hole hungrily. It was so small. He was practically drooling as he imagined it opening for him.

“N-no,” Harry whimpered, licking his lips as he slowly thrust his pelvis against the sheets. “Don’t. I don’t want you to.” He sounded extremely unconvincing to his own ears, but Fenrir must have been satisfied because he was beginning to growl and he wasn’t stopping.

“Oh, I can’t wait to taste you,” Fenrir breathed, moving closer to Harry’s entrance, lying down behind him comfortably.

“Ungh – no,” Harry gasped, attempting to close his thighs. Fenrir growled harshly and forced them back apart, surging forward and lapping at the boy’s taunting, pink entrance. Harry bucked against the bed with a shout. His feet jerked against the sheets as his toes curled, and he arched his arse back against Fenrir, all the while whimpering for Fenrir to stop.

Fenrir smirked devilishly as he stabbed at the boy’s pucker. It was so snug around his tongue and he wriggled as deep into Harry’s hot channel as he could get. Harry’s breath was ragged as he struggled, but he seemed to be struggling to resist Fenrir’s mouth instead of away from it. Fenrir grinned.

“You taste so good, puppy,” he rumbled wetly, bringing his finger to his mouth. He sucked it in, getting it coated with his saliva before bringing it to Harry’s quivering hole. He teasingly rubbed along the rim and was delighted at Harry’s shuddering whimper.

“Oooh, don’t,” Harry cooed, positively writhing against the sheets. He knew he would come if he kept pressing against the bed so he raised himself to his knees and lowered his head to the bed, enjoying the way he felt in this position – so vulnerable, open and waiting for Fenrir to make a move.

“Oh, that’s it boy,” Fenrir rumbled, incredibly pleased with Harry. He raised himself to his knees as well and positioned himself behind Harry before lowering his mouth to the boy’s sweet hole and slurping at it, then added his finger, thrusting shallowly. 

Harry no longer had the ability to form words and was instead reduced to whimpering, rutting, and spreading his thighs wide.

Fenrir added another finger, moaning at the sight of Harry’s entrance being breached and stretched. He licked at it again and internally thanked Harry for the silencing spells – the boy’s squeals, the slick, wet sounds, and his own growls would be enough to drive the Lupin werewolf into a killing frenzy. Fenrir felt a sudden deep thrill as he imagined Lupin being forced to watch as he penetrated Harry. He would bounce the boy in his lap without mercy, pinching and pulling at the young dark nipples and toying with the boy’s cock as he listened to the sweet sound of puppy whimpers, Lupin watching all the while, eyeing his boy. Yes, his boy.

“Yours,” he heard Harry whisper shakily. Fenrir jerked out of his fantasy and withdrew his fingers from the boy’s arse, giving the abused hole one more lick. He spat in his hand and slicked his throbbing cock, growling in pleasure as he tightened his hand around himself. Rearing up to his full height, he kneeled behind Harry and, grasping his hip with one hand, guided his cock to tease against Harry’s hole. “You want this, puppy? Hmm?”

Harry’s face was red and he sucked in a harsh breath before gasping out, “Ah – no, no….”

Fenrir never felt more proud in his life and he bared his teeth in triumph. With an excited growl, he surged forward and moaned. Harry was so incredibly tight and hot around his cock, and Fenrir could swear that he heard the slick sounds of the boy’s channel giving way. He dimly heard frantic whimpers and scrunching sheets. Without any thought, he curved down over Harry’s body and pulled the boy’s fingers from the sheets, threading his own between them and licking at Harry’s neck and ears as he murmured praise. He began to shallowly thrust, working Harry’s hips with the desire to satisfy him, his own pleasure merely a product of Harry’s. The irony of wanting to give Harry pleasure while pretending to rape him was not lost on Fenrir, and he groaned as he felt himself become even harder. He had never experienced such a strong desire to make a partner feel pleasure.

“So sweet…,” he murmured huskily, nipping and sucking at a pale shoulder. “Take it… open for me, puppy….”

“Ah – oh, please… too much – too big,” Harry moaned, tears leaking from his eyes. Fenrir’s moan resonated deep in his chest– the things Harry was saying were perfect. Fenrir decided that they needed to play this game more often before he sunk his teeth into Harry’s shoulder, changing his slow thrusts to frenzied jabs with Harry’s choked whimpers ringing in his ears.

* * *

Remus hesitated before knocking on Snape’s door. He had a vague notion that the black-haired Slytherin may not be a morning person, but he quelled his reservations and rapped smartly against the wood before stepping back in case Snape threw open the door. He made the right choice because the door banged open and Snape glared out at him, his hair slicked back as though he had recently showered.

“What do you want, Lupin?” he asked sourly, tightening a black bathing robe around himself.

Remus attempted to look friendly but gave up when Snape bared his teeth in impatience.

“Look,” said Remus with exasperation, crossing his arms and meeting Snape’s glare. “I think Greyback is hiding something. Harry came to me last night and told me that Greyback wants to sleep here for a few nights – a little unusual don’t you think?” Remus raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Snape scowled and drew himself up to his full height. “How should I know what is unusual for a werewolf and what is not?”

Remus glared, losing patience. “This isn’t about your prejudice, Snape.”

“My prejudice?” asked Snape with a mocking sneer. “Then what, pray tell, is this about?”

“I want you to use Legilimency on him. Found out what he’s hiding,” said Remus quickly.

Snape’s eyebrow rose slowly, a considering look upon his face. “Why, Lupin. I never thought you’d propose such an invasive method – not very Gryffindor of you,” he drawled, smiling unkindly, his yellow teeth exposed. Remus’ jaw clenched.

“We need to find out what’s going on,” he said shortly. “If he won’t tell Harry, he certainly isn’t going to tell us. I need you to use the spell.”

Snape leaned back against the door with exaggerated superiority. “The mind is not simply a book to be opened and read at one’s leisure, Lupin.” Remus had to stop himself from interrupting in frustration. “I must use the spell in a rather obvious manner in order to discover specifics. And even then there is no guarantee that I will see what I wish to see. An invasive spell such as that would abolish the already fragile amount of trust he holds in us, don’t you think?”

Remus glared. “I forgot. You are the expert on keeping people’s trust.”

Snape laughed unpleasantly. Remus waited until he was through, then raised his own eyebrow. “Well?” he asked. “Will you do it?”

Snape raised his chin appraisingly, then nodded. “I will question him. If we need to use the spell, I believe the element of surprise would be the best option. Of course, we will need Harry to calm the beast.”

Remus gritted his teeth at the slur but forced a nod, then spun on his heel and strode back to his room, quietly seething. 

* * *

Fenrir puffed like a freight train as he moved in and out of Harry. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer – his constant stream of precome had made Harry’s channel so slick that he could fully impale the boy, then withdraw completely with each thrust. Harry had stopped talking, simply breathing harshly and whimpering every few thrusts, adding to the sounds of slapping flesh and creaking wood.

“Harry,” Fenrir growled, bringing his hands to the boy’s hips. “Can’t last – need to make you come –”

Harry whined beneath him and began to shove himself backwards onto Fenrir’s cock with a sudden spurt of strength. Fenrir saw white when he felt Harry deliberately clench around him with each backward motion. It was too much; he let out a powerful roar and grabbed Harry by the hair, shoving their bodies together violently.  He could hear Harry’s high-pitched whining and it drove him mad with desire. With one final thrust, he came powerfully and tossed his head back, howling to the ceiling. Harry’s body shuddered around him and the boy’s own orgasm milked the last of Fenrir’s come from his cock.

Fenrir trembled and collapsed on top of Harry with a great whoosh of breath. His vision was hazy and he was vaguely aware of Harry asking him to get off – something about him being heavy… Fenrir grumbled in irritation and lifted his upper body, gritting his teeth as he withdrew himself from Harry’s arse with an obscene squishing sound. He shoved himself to the side, landing next to Harry and possessively throwing his arm and leg over the boy, unwilling to be disconnected quite yet.

Harry moaned as he felt Fenrir’s long cock pull out of his body. His used hole twitched at the sudden absence and he flushed as he felt come dribble out of him. He was incredibly sweaty and exhausted, not to mention sore everywhere. He knew he needed a bath immediately – it would be almost breakfast time for sure – but all he wanted to do was sleep. “Need a bath,” he mumbled into his damp pillow.

Fenrir chuckled weakly next to him, the sound rather garroted. He had really howled himself raw and Harry groaned again, hoping that it wouldn’t be terribly obvious to everyone in the house that they had just had rather noisy, enthusiastic sex.

“A bath, eh?” asked Fenrir hoarsely. Harry heard the werewolf take a deep breath before the bed squeaked in protest as Fenrir hoisted himself to all fours and moved over him.

“What –” Harry began to ask, but he didn’t get far, cutting himself off with a squeak of surprise. Fenrir had licked at the patch of sweat in the small of his back with apparent relish before nosing Harry’s thighs apart and lapping at his come-covered balls. Harry thrashed weakly, gibbering nonsense as Fenrir moved up his crease and suckled wetly at his entrance.

“Oh – ah – not that kind of – ah – bath!” Harry gasped out.

“Is there any other?” Fenrir rumbled. Harry moaned and his legs seized as Fenrir bent once more to his task of cleaning the come and sweat from Harry’s sensitive opening.

Harry was just getting worked up again when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Fuck!” he hissed, twisting away from Fenrir. “We have to move!” he whispered furiously, turning to look back at Fenrir.  The werewolf wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, looking slightly disoriented. Harry flushed, wondering if Fenrir really got that much pleasure out of bathing him before grabbing his clothes and stuffing himself back into them. “I’ll go first,” he whispered, grabbing his wand and casting a basic cleansing charm, hoping that it would banish most of the evidence. “Then you go after me. Don’t say anything about – well, you know.”

Fenrir sat back with a gruff expression, obviously annoyed at having his post-coital service interrupted. Harry gave him a sympathetic look before swinging his legs out of bed and jumping out from behind the curtains. Without a backward glance, he bolted for the bathroom as fast as his sore body would allow, giving a hasty greeting to Tonks in the hall (“Wotcher, Harry!”). He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him and whispering the locking charm before finally relaxing against it.

In no time at all, Harry was submerged in hot water, scrubbing at his body with a sponge, hoping to rid the smell of sex from his skin; the thought that Remus could know was too embarrassing. He poured shampoo and conditioner into his hair then tipped his head back, kneading his scalp with his fingers. ‘That was close,’ was all Harry would allow himself to think. He wanted to stay in the bath forever, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to look at Fenrir during breakfast without turning red….

A sudden knock at the door made him slip from the underwater bench in panic, and he sputtered and wiped frantically at his eyes as he heard Tonks call through the door, “Breakfast in ten minutes, Harry! And Fenrir wants to use the bath.”

With shaking limbs, Harry hoisted himself from the bath and quickly wrapped a large fluffy towel around his body. He brushed his teeth and dried himself faster than he ever had, then wrapped a bathrobe around himself before racing to the door and wrenching it open. He got a mild shock when he saw Fenrir leaning against the frame with his typical leer. Fenrir opened his mouth to say something, but Harry suddenly found he didn’t have the patience and he sped past him with a scowl. Because of Fenrir, he’d be feeling uncomfortable around Remus for at least a few days. He hated feeling guilty, like he had to hide. He was tired of being ashamed.

Everyone was just starting in on their eggs and bacon when Fenrir sauntered into the room and pulled out his seat, sitting down heavily and staring around. Harry couldn’t help but glance up at him, then immediately wished he hadn’t. Fenrir was only wearing a dark red terry bathrobe, his expansive chest visible in the V-shape formed by the cloth, exposing his dark chest hair. His hair was wet and dark, and water droplets were making their way from the ends of his hair down to his shoulders and over his pectorals. Harry gulped before looking down hastily at his fork, spearing an egg rather violently before shoving it in his mouth.

“Good morning, Fenrir,” said Remus with a forced smile. “Perhaps you should dress more appropriately for the next meal.”

Fenrir scoffed and pulled the serving plate of sausage towards him. “What’s the point if I only get dirty?” he asked, clearly not wanting an answer.

Remus made a mild agreeing sound before bending once more to his plate. Not much more was said over breakfast, creating an even more awkward atmosphere than the supper the night before. Ron was shoveling food into his mouth and Hermione was lecturing Tonks on the importance of neatness, giving Harry little opportunity to talk. Everyone appeared to be ignoring Fenrir when he claimed the sausage was overcooked, chomping on them with an open mouth. Harry felt strangely responsible for Fenrir’s appalling table manners and he shot him a warning glare before he could stop himself. Fenrir noticed immediately. He gave Harry a smug, teeth-baring grin and crossed his arms, leaning his elbows on the table. Harry realized instantly that Fenrir had been obnoxious on purpose. Biting his bottom lip, Harry glared down at his eggs, furious that he had fallen for Fenrir’s bait. He didn’t take his eyes off of his breakfast until he was finished.

“Bill, Hermione, Ron…would you please take a plate to Draco’s room?” asked Remus with a significant look. Bill nodded and stood up while Hermione and Ron cast confused looks at Harry. Equally confused, Harry looked at Remus who was watching Snape with a sharp eye. Harry could only shrug at his friends as they stood up hesitantly and followed Bill, Ron’s feet making a bit more noise than necessary as they trooped down the hall. Harry looked around the table. Tonks, Charlie, Snape, and Remus were left, and they were all observing Fenrir, who was still playing with his food, unaware of their stares. Harry felt suddenly nervous and he asked loudly, “What’s going on?” Fenrir looked up.

“Harry,” Remus began with a placating tone. “We want to ask Fenrir some questions. Fenrir won’t mind, will you, Fenrir?”

Fenrir looked at him, unconcealed suspicion on his face. “What about?” he asked gruffly, still leaning forward against the table. Harry couldn’t tell if he was feigning relaxation or if he really didn’t care that he was about to be interrogated. Harry on the other hand was by no means relaxed. His entire body was buzzing with adrenaline – while he was dreading the strain that was sure to come, he was also incredibly curious. He didn’t know that much about Fenrir. He knew that he was a former Death Eater, although he didn’t have a Dark Mark; he knew that Remus was bitten by Fenrir; he knew that Fenrir had committed horrible, horrendous crimes… but he also knew that Fenrir cared about him, however oddly he showed that compassion.

Remus glanced quickly at Snape before saying, “We understand that you were wounded and that you have chosen to spend a few nights here. We would like to know why.”

Fenrir looked up from his plate. “Why not?” he growled. Remus gave Snape another fast look. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was going on?

“Greyback,” said Snape with a sneer. “We understand that it is not customary for a pack leader to spend so much time away from his pack. Why have you not gone to brief them on the she-wolf’s death?”

Fenrir swerved to look at Snape, his face screwed up in fury. “Don’t tell me how to run my pack!”

Snape met Fenrir’s eyes with a piercing look. “You’re not hiding secrets from us then, Greyback?” he asked with a sneer.

Fenrir bared his teeth and let out a growl. “No,” he barked, knuckles white.

Snape kept his eyes riveted on Fenrir’s. “He’s lying, Lupin.”

Harry stood up, knocking his chair over when he realized what was happening. “Snape, don’t do that!”

Fenrir whirled to look at Harry. “Do what?”

Before Harry could answer, Snape shot to his feet and whipped out his wand, pointing at Fenrir and hissing, “Legilimens!”     

Fenrir’s eyes became unfocused and he slumped in his chair, terry bathrobe in danger of falling open.

“Stop it, Snape!” Harry shouted, launching himself at the tall man. Before he could reach him, Remus seized him around the waist and held him back.

“Let me go!” said Harry furiously, tugging at Remus’ arms.

“We need to know, Harry! You said yourself that he wanted to stay here – it’s not right!” Remus said forcefully. Harry continued to struggle but before he could get free, Fenrir let out great roar and flung himself out of his chair, landing haphazardly on the floor, apparently missing his target. Snape lifted his wand and backed away, his normally sallow face white as a sheet.

“Restrain him!” he bellowed at Charlie and Tonks, who drew their wands and cast freezing charms. Fenrir froze in his crouched position on the floor, eyes as wrathful as they had been the first time he had to be restrained. Harry felt his heart skip a beat in fright. What terrible secret had Snape discovered? He finally managed to get out of Remus’ hold and he glared at Snape, still angry. “Well? What’s so awful that you had to use Legilimency on him?”

Snape gave him an odd look, his eyes wide and lips pale. “Why did you not speak of this?”

“Speak of what?” Harry shouted, losing his patience.

Snape’s mouth became even tighter and he looked at Remus with accusing eyes. “Greyback has been assaulting him.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “What?” he asked. He felt Remus grab his arms and he was spun around forcefully, Remus’ usually calm face twisted in horror.

“What, Harry? What has he done?”

“Nothing!” Harry shouted, pulling away. Snape barked out an angry “Hah!” before shouting, “You call rape ‘nothing’? Or were those ‘please, no’s all an act?”

“What!” Remus cried, rounding on Harry and grabbing his arms again. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why?”      

Harry could only let Remus scream as his own mouth clamped shut and his face burned. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so mortified. Remus seemed to take Harry’s silence for confirmation of abuse and he moaned in despair, sinking to his knees in front of Harry. Charlie and Tonks were both watching with pity while Snape just looked angry. It was only Remus’ wounded cries that forced Harry to bite out, “It wasn’t real.”

Remus choked on his cries and looked up. “Not real?” he asked, his brown eyes covered in a glossy film. Harry’s heart sank unpleasantly. “Not real,” he whispered.

“Ludicrous!” Snape scoffed. “I saw it all! I could sense his pleasure in forcing you, I heard you cry –”

“I didn’t cry!” Harry shouted. “And it was just – just pretend,” he finished, convinced that his face was actually on fire. God, Snape had seen them? He’d never be able to look the man in the eye again.

“What do you mean by ‘pretend’?” asked Remus, utterly bewildered. Harry bit his lip, not sure how to explain that he had actually enjoyed resisting or if he even wanted to explain.

Snape suddenly rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, Merlin,” he muttered. Harry looked over at him with a glare.

“Exactly, Snape,” he hissed, knowing that the Slytherin had worked it out. “And now you’ve used magic against him and he hates that! He’ll never answer you now!”

“I – I don’t understand,” Remus whispered, still on his knees. “Why would you pretend to be… to be….”

“Never mind,” Harry said quickly, covering his eyes. “Just – just don’t think about it. He didn’t rape me.”

Remus shakily got to his feet and turned to look up at Snape, his eyes very round. “Oh dear.”

“Yes,” said Snape acidly. “Your little scheme backfired on you. I saw nothing of importance and it’s too late now.”

“Your scheme?” asked Harry, shocked. Remus had the decency to look regretful.

“Er, maybe you should cast it again?” asked Charlie, causing everyone to turn and look down at the werewolf, still crouched on the floor.

“No!” said Harry vehemently, moving between Fenrir and Snape. “You’ve done enough – I know what the spell feels like – it’s more like rape than anything Fenrir and I did this morning!”

Snape sneered at him. “Protecting a Death Eater, Potter? You don’t even know if he is loyal to us.”

“I protected you, didn’t I?” Harry asked, daring Snape to disagree. The older wizard held his gaze before admitting defeat, peering down at Fenrir. “Make one move against us and you’ll be out ‘til the next full moon. Finite Incantatem!”

Fenrir fell to the floor with a grunt, then scrambled to his feet. He put his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths before meeting Snape’s eyes, his own slanted and feral.

“You bastard,” he spat. He crouched low and his hands were outstretched like claws.

“Fenrir,” Harry whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “They didn’t mean any harm –”

“Any harm!” Fenrir spat again, causing Harry to flinch and back away. “I said ‘no magic’! I said it!” Fenrir pounded the table with his fist and Harry jumped.

“Your actions were suspicious, Fenrir, we had no choice –”

“No choice!” Fenrir snarled, cutting off Remus’ placating tone. “You could have asked, you could have asked me –”

“We did, in case your bestial mind has forgotten –”

“Fuck you, Snape!” Fenrir bellowed, raising his fists. “Fuck you! Fuck every single one of you!”

Harry reached for Fenrir once more, but the werewolf turned away like a whirlwind and stalked to the door. Before Harry could call out, Fenrir had slammed it shut. Harry shuddered when he heard an enraged, distant roar and he hurried to the door and opened it, looking around frantically. There was no sign of Fenrir except for the dark red robe staining the steps.  

Review This Story