Sweet Puppy

Chapter 16

Harry woke abruptly to the feel of Fenrir gnawing insistently at the crook of his neck while thick fingers pinched a trail up his inner thigh. Harry immediately began to squirm on his stomach, closing his legs and trapping Fenrir’s hand.

“You’re finally up,” Fenrir rumbled, licking the marks he’d been creating.

Harry groaned and shut his eyes. “Finally? What time is it?”

“Mmm. Time to thank me for saving your hide last night.”

Harry’s eyes flew open. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one who did the actual saving,” he muttered.

Fenrir’s raspy laugh tickled Harry’s ear and his hips twitched involuntarily against the sheets. “We saved each other then,” Fenrir conceded, his hand still trapped. “Alright with you?”

Harry hesitated. “Er – seriously, what time is it? Will the others–”

“They’ll stay away if they know what’s good for them,” Fenrir growled above him. “Never get between a werewolf and his shag.”

Harry’s cheeks burned, not quite appreciating being referred to as a ‘shag’ but also secretly enjoying Fenrir’s possessive tone. It made the rest of his body wake up and his hips shifted again. Fenrir seized the opportunity and pulled his hand free. “Or would you like them to barge in and watch? Hmm?”

Harry wriggled and his face scrunched up. “Of course not! It’s bad enough that you can see me when we do stuff.”

Fenrir laughed loudly. “That gives me an idea,” he said, and he crawled up to the headboard and leaned his back against it, propping one leg up and revealing his thick, rapidly swelling cock.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, trying not stare from his position next to Fenrir, keeping his head on the pillow.

“Seeing as I’m still injured and all…,” Fenrir began, a sly look on his face that made Harry’s stomach flutter. “Maybe I shouldn’t do anything this morning.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Really? I mean, er–” Harry quickly stopped talking. Was he actually protesting Fenrir’s sudden responsible streak? “Oh, okay.”

Fenrir shook his head. “You misunderstood me, puppy. I said I shouldn’t do anything this morning. But you…yes…” Fenrir’s pupils were dilating and he licked his teeth as his eyes roamed Harry’s form.

Harry pushed up onto his knees, keeping his arms strategically placed to block Fenrir’s view. “What do you mean?”

Fenrir smirked. “Still so innocent...”

Harry felt his temper flare. “I’m not,” he shot back before he could stop himself.

“Oh good,” said Fenrir, letting his hand fall casually against his cock. “Then you won’t have any problem putting on a little show for me.”

Harry stared. “Er – what?”

Fenrir showed his teeth and pointed at the space on the bed directly in front of him. “Sit right here,” he rumbled.

Still perplexed, Harry crawled over so that he was sitting in front of Fenrir but far enough away so that the werewolf couldn’t reach him without changing his position. Still kneeling with his hands in his lap, he asked, “Now what?”

Fenrir watched him intently and his tongue moistened his lips. It made Harry’s face heat. He realized now what Fenrir wanted and his body began to tremble. No matter how many times Fenrir had touched him, nothing made Harry more nervous than Fenrir simply looking at him.

Fenrir grinned, his gleaming eyes narrowed to slits. “Lay back,” he ordered gruffly, his hand drifting towards his own erection.

Harry shivered and bit his lip, then obediently laid on his back with his knees bent, his eyes fixed on the canopy and his arms at his sides.

“Ah, but this is supposed to be a show, puppy. I can’t see.”

Harry tried to control his breathing, but he was already having trouble. He could feel Fenrir’s eyes on him, almost like heat branding his skin. With a shuddering breath, Harry inched his feet apart, his toes gripping at the sheets. He heard Fenrir growl with impatience. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and flung his legs out, his feet landing far apart and his knees splayed. Fenrir gave an approving grunt and Harry let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Now what?” he asked hoarsely 

“Mmm. Touch yourself.”

Even though he knew it was coming, Harry couldn’t help but falter, embarrassment taking over. Fenrir was just staring. He bit his lip in frustration – after all, Fenrir had already fucked him three times, and they’d done quite a bit of touching and all that other stuff – there was no reason to be shy. Fenrir obviously thought he was attractive, right? Or would he be forced to feel attraction for his mate, no matter who it was?

“C’mon, Harry. I want to see you.”

With a shuddering breath, Harry lifted his right hand and trailed it down his stomach, his left unconsciously grabbing a fistful of sheet as an anchor. His eyes slid shut as his hand moved further down, his fingers moving through the soft patch of hair before reaching his cock. He heard Fenrir growl in approval and it spurred him on to take hold of himself. He gasped and his back arched.

“That’s it.”

Harry moaned and his thighs tensed as he moved his fingers up and down his cock, his tongue sliding out of his mouth to lick his suddenly dry lips. Fenrir seemed to like that because Harry heard the werewolf inhale sharply.

“Lick your fingers.”

Harry’s breath hitched. He brought his left hand up and held it above his mouth, letting his tongue glide against the pads of his fingers. He was surprised at how excited he was becoming. He could feel that his cock was starting to leak and he used his wetness to make it easier as he stroked himself, all the while lapping at his fingers, knowing that the sight must be driving Fenrir wild.

He was not wrong.

“Suck them. Put them in your mouth.”

Harry moaned and slid his fingers into his warm mouth. He sucked at them hungrily, not unaware of what the action suggested. He hadn’t ever done anything to Fenrir when it came to physically pleasuring him, and the sudden craving to take the werewolf’s cock into his mouth was overwhelming. He sucked greedily, whimpering around three of his fingers, imagining something else much thicker and warmer in his mouth. He heard the sound of slapping flesh and realized that Fenrir was touching himself while he watched. He moaned and his body arched of its own accord, giving Fenrir a tantalizing view of his entrance for a brief few seconds. It was enough to spur the werewolf to new ideas.

“Turn over, boy. Hurry.”

Harry wanted to keep stroking and sucking, but the intensity of Fenrir’s voice made him more inclined to follow his instructions. He rolled over onto his belly and instantly began to writhe against the sheets, whimpering and panting at the feel of the cloth against his cock.

“Up on your knees. Keep your head down.”

Fenrir’s voice grated across his ears and he hurried to comply, bringing his knees underneath himself and pushing his hips up to the ceiling. Fenrir moaned behind him and Harry couldn’t help but grin a little.

“That’s it…,” he heard the werewolf murmur. “Now…open up your legs…real wide so I can see.”

Harry whined and buried his face in the musty sheets, his face burning and his body quivering as he moved his knees further apart. He was so aroused that he actually hurt, and he knew that Fenrir could see everything this way, which was just so embarrassing and naughty and sexy. And best of all, he could hear Fenrir jerking off – proof that he liked what he saw, and that made it even better.

“Push your fingers inside, Harry, c’mon.”

Fenrir’s voice was becoming progressively impatient, but it only made Harry more excited. He licked his fingers one more time and leaned his head on his arm, reaching back with the other.

“Like this?” he whispered, tracing his hole with his slick finger.

“Oh fuck,” Fenrir groaned. Harry’s fingers were exactly where he wanted his own fingers, his tongue, his cock; it was all so much wanting, and he could have lost it all last night. Harry was making little gasping noises that were severely compromising his ability to think, and his fingers were getting more daring.

“Hurry up,” said Fenrir, wishing it had sounded more like an order and less like a plea. Harry moaned and pushed one finger into himself, and Fenrir had to grit his teeth to keep his own moans at bay. He licked his lips as Harry pushed in a second, and by the time the boy had taken a third, he was gasping at the sight. He realized Harry was saying something and he had to focus in order to hear him. “It’s not enough, it’s not enough,” he was panting, trying to work his fingers deeper.

Fenrir let out a strangled roar and scrambled forward, then reared up onto his knees and pulled Harry’s hand away. Harry whimpered and leaned on his folded arms, his arse in the air as Fenrir moved his dripping cock to the boy’s hole, then screamed as Fenrir slammed into him.

“Only my cock does it right,” he heard Fenrir growl above him, and he whimpered a desperate ‘yes’ as Fenrir grabbed his hips tightly and began to shove hard and deep. Fenrir leaned over his back and began to bite and lick at his neck, and then Harry didn’t need Fenrir’s hands to guide him anymore. He arched his neck, crying out in pleasure when Fenrir bit down harder and then the werewolf reached around his waist for his own slick cock. The old bed was creaking angrily and he hoped they didn’t break it as Fenrir rocked into him. He was moving into him so forcefully that Harry ended up on his stomach, struggling to push his hips back and rub against the sheets at the same time.

“Not gonna last,” Fenrir puffed into his ear before taking it into his mouth and biting it. Harry whined as his orgasm suddenly came and his body writhed against the sheets, rubbing himself in his own cum. Fenrir shouted and bucked, caught off guard by Harry’s sudden climax and his own was ripped from him at the feel of Harry’s muscles clenching. He collapsed on top of Harry, the bed giving out one more loud creak before all was still, save for the two panting bodies. Dimly, Fenrir decided not to move out or off of Harry for at least a week, but then Harry wriggled beneath him and Fenrir groaned and pulled away.

“That was…,” Harry started before flushing and moving off of the wet spot. Fenrir wrapped one big hand around Harry’s hip and dragged him over to him, then spooned up behind him and buried his face in his hair.

“Let’s go back to sleep,” he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy. Harry exhaled deeply and curled up even more, putting his own arms on top of Fenrir’s. “Fine by me,” he yawned. Then, they both fell asleep, their mutual relief to still have each other finally and thoroughly expressed.

* * *

It was past noon by the time they finally cleaned up, dressed, and went downstairs. Everyone save for Remus was seated at the large table in the kitchen. They all appeared to be very busy with something, and Harry realized that they were avoiding his gaze. The tips of Ron’s ears were quite red.

“Hi, Harry,” said Hermione. Everyone followed suit with a grunt or a nod of the head. Harry sat down gingerly next to Hermione. Fenrir smirked and Harry shot him a quelling glare before whispering to Hermione, “Why’s everyone so quiet?”

Hermione look flustered and turned the page of the Daily Prophet loudly as she whispered back, “We heard, er… a bit of howling – and a lot of wood creaking.”

Harry’s blush went from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes and Fenrir started to laugh hoarsely, confirming the source of all the noise. Everyone looked over at them and Harry loudly asked, “Where’s Remus?” in hopes of distracting them.

Tonks answered him, a little grin on her face at his still-red complexion. “He was waiting for you to come down. I’ll go get him. Oh, and Malfoy, you’re not to be in here when we get back. Secret Order business,” she added with a conspiratorial wink.

Draco scowled at his cousin and stood from the table, throwing a sneer at Harry before leaving the room. His stomps were easily audible as he made his way up the stairs and Harry realized just how loud they must have been.

“Next time, use a Silencing charm,” Hermione advised in his ear, sensing his thoughts. Harry gritted his teeth and distracted himself by getting up to make a chicken sandwich.

“Get me one too. No bread,” said Fenrir once he saw what Harry was up to.

Harry saw Snape smirk and Harry had to restrain himself from throwing the chicken at Snape’s nose.

At that moment, Tonks and Remus came through the door. Remus looked like he hadn’t slept. Harry felt the stirrings of guilt; Remus must have been worried sick from what he had done at the cave.

“Good afternoon,” he said, glancing around the table. His eyes suddenly sharpened as they locked on the chair Draco had vacated.

“I sent him off,” said Tonks casually. “Like you asked.”

Remus winced and quickly sat down. “Thank you,” he muttered.

Harry sat back down, passing Fenrir a plate of chicken and starting in on his own sandwich, bracing himself for a diatribe from Remus, but it didn’t come. Instead, Remus wiped at his face and stared around at them all with a world-weary expression.

“I’m glad you’re all safe,” he said simply.

Snape scoffed and crossed his arms. “You three should thank Mr. Malfoy that you are still among the living,” he said. “He was the one to alert Lupin of your foolish actions.”

“Ratted us out, more like,” Ron muttered under his breath.

“Yes,” said Remus, but it looked like it cost him to do so. “Yes, we should all thank him.”

“That sounded unbelievably sincere, Lupin,” sneered Snape. “You could be a little more grateful to the boy for saving Potter’s skin.”

“I am!” shouted Remus, his hands shooting out to grip the sides his chair. Everyone stared. “I am. I – I am very thankful. You – you’ll tell him for me, won’t you Severus?”

Snape’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed Remus’ pleading expression. He jerked his head in a curt nod and took a sip of tea.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked around at each other, their expressions asking ‘what was that all about?’

“So,” Remus began, running a hand through his hair. “You got the cup, Harry.”

Harry was surprised that Remus mentioned it in front of Fenrir. “Er, yeah. Yeah I did.”

“Then we need to discuss how to destroy it.”

There was silence around the table as they all pondered that statement. How would they destroy it?

“What the bloody hell are you all talking about?” asked Fenrir, mouth full of chicken.

Remus gave Harry a sharp look. “Are you sure you want to trust him, Harry?”

Harry couldn’t help but be annoyed with Remus. Of course he wasn’t sure if Fenrir should know the whole truth – but how was he supposed to say ‘no’ with his mate sitting right there? Remus was trapping him, making him feel guilty for what he’d done.

“Yes,” said Harry, his jaw tightening. “I trust him.”

A quick flash of anger overtook Remus’ eyes, but Harry doubted anyone else would have noticed. What was with him? He knew Remus would probably never be happy that he was with Fenrir, but where was this sudden anger coming from? Of course, he was probably still shook up over last night…. Harry backed down a bit; Remus had a right to be angry didn’t he?

Remus turned his head to address Fenrir. “Whatever you hear from now on is to never leave your lips, do you understand, Greyback?”

Fenrir held Remus’ stare challengingly. “Yeah, I understand, Lupin,” he growled.

“Good,” said Remus. “Then why don’t you explain, Harry.”

Harry bit his lip, then sighed and looked at his plate. “Voldemort’s been making sure he can’t die by making Horcruxes – that’s what the cup is. He’s been splitting his soul and trapping the pieces in objects that he’s collected. I have to find them and destroy them. It’s the only way Voldemort can be killed.”

Fenrir stared at him, still chewing. “Well, fuck,” he said finally.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah. That’s pretty much how we all feel.”

“We have to destroy the cup,” said Hermione briskly. “So we need to know how the others that have been found were taken care of: the diary was destroyed with a Basilisk fang from the one Harry killed–”

“You killed a Basilisk?” asked Fenrir.

Harry turned a bit pink. “Yeah,” he said.

“Well we haven’t got one of those around here, unless one’s been hiding in the basement,” said Ron. “And we can’t just go waltzing into the Chamber of Secrets since we’re all on the run.”

“How was the ring disposed of?” asked Remus.

“Dunno,” said Harry. “It had a crack in it though.”

“It must have been a spell,” said Hermione. “I doubt physically damaging it would do anything.”

“But what kind of spell would destroy a piece of someone’s soul?” wondered Ron. “It would have to be something really Dark.”

Everyone looked at Snape, who had been calmly sipping his tea.

Snape noticed their looks and put down his cup slowly, leveling them all with his best glare. “And why do you suppose I would know anything more than you do about Horcruxes?”

Everyone had the decency to look abashed except for Harry.

“Well why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I am, as you would say, ‘Dark’?” said Snape with a curled lip.

“No,” said Harry shortly, “Because you’re smart.”

Snape blinked.

“Yeah,” said Harry, glad to have finally shocked the man. “Because you’re smart. You’ve invented all those spells, you always know what I’m thinking – you fooled Voldemort into thinking you were loyal to him – you could figure it out. I know you could.”

Snape looked as though he didn’t know what expression to make. It satisfied Harry to no end. “Any fool could figure out what you are thinking, Potter,” said Snape finally, but it didn’t sting in the least. Snape was pleased at the compliment; that much was obvious.

“So you’ll try and figure it out then?” asked Harry.

Snape took another sip of his tea, avoiding their eyes. “I will look into it,” he said.

“Good,” said Harry, feeling better than he had in ages. “We’re getting somewhere.”

“I hate to ruin your excitement, Harry,” said Remus. “But we still need the other three Horcruxes.”

Harry visibly deflated. “I know,” he muttered.

“So what are they? Where are they?” asked Bill.

Harry shifted in his seat awkwardly. He had hoped they wouldn’t ask him this question yet, that they would be too distracted by the cup. “Well – well I don’t exactly – I mean, Dumbledore wasn’t exactly sure about–”

“You mean you don’t know?” exclaimed Ron.

“Well I have some idea,” said Harry defensively. “Dumbledore said that two of the others were Slytherin’s locket and Nagini, and that the last was probably something of Ravenclaw’s or Gryffindor’s.”

“Nagini?” asked Charlie. “You mean that great big snake he has?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

“Well that’s easy then. We know where she is… in You-Know-Who’s lap,” said Ron bitterly. “How’re we supposed to get to her?”

“And something of Ravenclaw’s or Gryffindor’s? What could that be?”

“Well we know about the locket. And we know Regulus Black had it last,” said Harry. “The initials, R.A.B., remember?”

Hermione looked at Harry shrewdly. “What does it look like?”

Harry bit his lip as he tried to recall the memory Dumbledore had shown him of the Gaunts. The daughter of the horrible man had been wearing the locket. “It was big and gold,” he said. “The fake that we found was much smaller. So Regulus must have taken it and hidden it somewhere.”

“Well that could have been anywhere!”

“Maybe not,” said Hermione, her eyes widening. “We found a locket when we were here for the summer, didn’t we, Ron?” Her voice was becoming quicker and her face was lighting up. “A big gold locket that we couldn’t open, remember?”

Harry sat up, hungry excitement gripping his chest. “Where is it?”

“We threw it in the pile with the other junk,” said Ron. “But Kreacher kept trying to filch stuff–”

The three stared at each other in horror. Without a doubt, Harry knew: Kreacher, the horrible house-elf that had betrayed Sirius, knew where the Horcrux was.

“What?” asked Fenrir, looking back and forth between them.

“Where is Kreacher?” asked Remus.

“He’s at Hogwarts,” said Harry hollowly. “That’s where I sent him.”

“But you own him, don’t you?” asked Ron excitedly. “You could just summon him here or something! You could order him to hand it over–”

“Or you could ask him nicely,” interrupted Hermione.

“Oh please, Hermione!” said Ron. “You don’t just go asking a little creep like that about the locket! This is life and death here, not S.P.E.W. time!”

“’Spew time’?” Tonks sniggered. “What’s that?”

Hermione opened her mouth but Ron covered it. “Don’t get her started, you haven’t got the time.”

“I suppose I could call him,” Harry mused. “But – but he hates me. And I don’t really like him either. He doesn’t really consider me his master.”

“But he’s bound to you!” said Ron, practically levitating out of his seat. “He’s got to do what you tell him!”

“Maybe that’s not the best way,” said Harry quietly.

“Yes, yes exactly, Harry,” said Hermione, with a glare at Ron. “He’s got to get Kreacher to trust him.”

“Well he’s never gonna trust him if he never sees him. So summon him up, and get cracking on a friendship!”

Harry nodded and without a glance at anyone else, stood up and left the room. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, then scrambled out of their seats and tore after him. The adults looked around at each other.

“Don’t really need us much, do they?” asked Bill with a wry smile.

“No wonder Dumbledore trusted them with this,” said Charlie.

Snape just scoffed.  

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