Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Legend of the Wolf	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Fenrir Views: 31881 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from JK Rowling’s fantastic books or films, I’m just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Epilogue
- 2
- 3
- 4
A/N: Ouiplanete - thank you for your review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Dx

‘I really don’t understand what the hell we’re doing here,’ the dark-haired Death Eater moaned. He pulled his cloak tighter around him in an attempt to shield himself from the falling rain as he looked around the silent street. ‘It’s a filthy night and I can’t believe there’s anything important enough going on around here for us to involve ourselves with.’
‘Ours isn’t to question why, Jugson. We just do as we’re told,’ a thick-set man with dripping blond hair announced, sounding as fed-up as his companion. ‘The Dark Lord obviously felt there was something of interest happening so he told Malfoy to look into it. And, for our sins, we get to go along for the ride.’
‘I don’t see him out here in this bloody awful weather, though,’ Jugson said. ‘I bet he’s keeping nice and warm somewhere . . . probably with a nice big roaring fire . . . or some hot, sweet snatch.’ He shivered.
‘You know what a bloody grandstander Malfoy is so, of course, he’ll want to take all the glory. He’s probably in there now taking all the credit for the raid, forgetting that he isn’t working alone. I dunno why we’re always sent to follow him. Dolohov’s at least as dedicated to the Dark Lord as Malfoy and at least he’s happy to let us have a bit of fun with the Muggles before we kill them,’ the blond was clearly disgruntled.
‘You’re right, Gibbon,’ Jugson said. ‘Knowing Malfoy, he’s probably getting his leg over right now while leaving us out here to keep guard and when he comes out he’ll expect us to go in there and clear up after him.’
There was a loud crumping noise from inside the building, the sound of glass breaking and various screams of terror. A moment later the door opened and louder noises of people in turmoil assailed the ears of the waiting Death Eaters as a tall figure walked out of the now quite obviously burning building.
‘Make sure no one gets out,’ Lucius Malfoy instructed coldly as he joined Jugson and Gibbon. He didn’t seem to notice the terrible weather. ‘There are three exits. They should all be covered by our people but just go round to make sure,’ he told Jugson. The man nodded and hurried away, eager to be out of Malfoy’s presence. Lucius looked at Gibbon. ‘You stay here and guard that door until Jugson gets back. By then it should all be over and you can leave.’
‘And what are you going to be doing?’ Gibbon asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
He peered interestedly at the body slung over Lucius’ shoulder. From what he could see it looked like a young woman, but he wasn’t sure whether she was dead or not. He assumed not otherwise surely Malfoy would have left her in the burning building.
Gibbon wondered who she was as she was clearly not a Death Eater, but just as surely not a Mudblood. Everyone knew Malfoy’s hatred of them ran deeper than anyone’s with maybe the exception of the Dark Lord himself, and it was highly unlikely that he would voluntarily save the life of one.
‘This one is a close friend of Potter,’ Lucius replied, having spotted Gibbon looking at the body he was carrying. ‘I need to get her back to the Dark Lord immediately as she could be of use to us. Now do as I say, and remember, no one gets out alive. It’s vital no one can report her disappearance before we have a chance to get her somewhere impregnable from the blasted Order of the Phoenix and can make use of her.’
Grumbling quietly to himself, Gibbon headed towards the door of the building taking no more notice of Lucius Malfoy and his captive. At least he didn’t have to face the Dark Lord in person tonight. In another thirty minutes he would finally be tucked up at home in the warm and dry with his wife and he could forget about what had happened here tonight, including the fact that Malfoy had a girl with him.
Regardless of who she was, she was unlikely to last long, especially if the Dark Lord had taken an interest in her, so it was probably best for him to forget that she had even existed.
Lucius turned back to look at the burning building and sighed. Sometimes he wished he could go on these raids alone. It would be more efficient and the objective, to take out a Transfiguration specialist who had crossed the Dark Lord, would have been achieved quietly and without all this bloodshed. There was nothing that ruined a raid for him more than a bunch of bloodthirsty Death Eaters looking for a fight . . . or more.
Tonight he’d had no choice but to order that the building be burned to the ground as the vicious werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, had been among the party, and by the time he had finished with his savage assaults on the inhabitants of the building something like two-thirds of them would have ended up joining him as werewolves had they lived. That was why Lucius had set guards on each of the exits, to make sure none of them got out alive.
At least he had managed to Stupefy and take charge of Hermione Granger before the werewolf had got hold of her, although it had been a close-run thing. What he would like to do now was take her somewhere he could keep her safe and wait for her to come round, hopefully, grateful enough with his rescue of her to show her appreciation in a physical way. She was a pretty young thing, after all.
But as one of Potter’s closest friends, and Lucius having been seen taking her by other Death Eaters, he now had no choice but to take Hermione to Voldemort in case she could be of use to his Master. He just hoped it wouldn’t be the last thing she would ever do.
He raised his wand, pointing it towards the building he had just left. ‘Morsmordre!’ he said loudly, and then he turned away, disgusted, as the Dark Mark filled the sky above the stricken building.

Hermione sighed when she saw Lucius come into the room. She had been stuck here for well over a week now and he still wouldn’t tell her what was going on. The last thing she remembered was being at a Transfiguration seminar for which Professor McGonagall had put her name forward, which had taken place after school had finished for the day.
Harry and Ron had been unable to understand why she would voluntarily give up one of her evenings for yet more school work, but she had been excited to attend as the seminar had attracted some prestigious speakers and was designed primarily for Muggle-borns who had excelled in one of the trickier fields of magic. The final lecture had finished and they had just handed round a glass of wine and a few nibbles when all hell had broken loose.
Hermione vaguely remembered a hulking great werewolf who had made some rather salacious comments about what he intended to do with her, which apparently didn’t just include turning her into a werewolf. Then there was pain and nothing until she woke up here, although where “here” was she still had absolutely no idea. All she knew was that Lucius Malfoy was a regular visitor.
Lucius had told her she was being held at Voldemort’s request and she had, so he had said, been in the presence of the megalomaniac after being abducted from the seminar. If that was indeed the case, Hermione was glad she had no recollection of it. She remembered Harry’s scary description of Voldemort and had no desire to witness him for herself.
She had no idea what had happened to the others at the conference, either attendees or speakers, and Lucius refused to talk to her about it which made her suspect that the outcome hadn’t been a very good one. Hermione just hoped that the attack by Death Eaters hadn’t been specifically to abduct her. She wasn’t sure she could bear the guilt if that turned out to be the case.
But now, here Lucius was again, carrying a tray containing some dire scraps of food that she would be expected to eat, which obviously meant yet another day without any possibility of release.
Hermione still had no idea why they were holding her although she knew it had something to do with her friendship with Harry. But if Voldemort and his cronies honestly thought he and Ron were going to come riding to her rescue like the Lone Ranger and Tonto, they were all seriously deluded.
She looked on in disgust as Lucius put the tray on the table in front of her and glanced at the stale bread and the hunk of sweaty cheese, a lump of over-pink boiled ham rounding out the meal with a jug of water to wash the food down and her heart sank. Couldn’t she have a salad for once? Did these people never eat vegetables?
‘Have you come to let me go, Mr Malfoy?’ Hermione asked, trying to sound hopeful. It was the same question she asked Lucius every time he came to visit her.
Lucius looked amused. ‘I’ve told you before to call me Lucius, there’s no need for formality here, Hermione. And what on earth makes you think I would be letting you go? You know how valuable you are to us . . . and I enjoy your company so much.’
‘You don’t still seriously believe holding on to me is going to further your cause in any way, do you?’ she asked.
Lucius laughed. ‘We’re holding one of Potter’s closest friends. That gives us a huge advantage.’
‘Harry isn’t stupid enough to fall for your traps,’ Hermione retorted, shaking her head as she spoke. Inside she was praying that this was indeed the case. She knew her friend was more than capable of being an idiot and rushing in without thinking, but surely not over something so important. And anyway, he probably had no better idea than she did of where she was. ‘He’s not going to attempt to rescue me, he knows better than that. So if that’s what you were hoping for you’re going to be disappointed.’
Lucius grinned. ‘We’ll see. Personally, I have slightly less faith in your friend sticking to his guns when he knows we have you. After all, you are the brains of your little group. Neither of your friends could claim that title.’
Hermione shrugged. ‘Harry doesn’t need me in order to do what needs to be done. He’s already well aware of what he has to do, and I can assure you attempting to rescue me doesn’t feature anywhere in those plans.’
‘I don’t believe Potter would sacrifice you,’ Lucius said sharply. ‘Or the Weasley boy, either. You and he are a couple, aren’t you? He’s hardly going to allow his girlfriend to be killed when he could do something to stop it.’
‘Ronald isn’t my boyfriend,’ Hermione replied dismissively. ‘We’re just friends. And he isn’t stupid enough to jeopardise Harry’s chances of defeating Voldemort by attempting to rescue me, either. I’m afraid you made an error in taking me, Mr Malfoy. I’m going to be of no use to you at all.’
Lucius’ gaze was so fervid that Hermione suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious, then he smiled and she felt her blood run cold.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ he said and licked his lips salaciously.

‘Unfortunately, we have gained nothing from the girl's capture, Lucius. It appears Potter has no loyalty to his friends after all. He obviously has no intention of allowing himself to be swayed from his current path to rescue the girl, so we may as well dispose of her. I assume I can trust you to accomplish this successfully?’
Lucius bowed his head deferentially but said, ‘I wonder whether I might be allowed to keep her for a while longer, my Lord?’
Voldemort looked enquiringly at the blond-haired Death Eater.
‘Although a Mudblood, Miss Granger is extremely attractive,’ Lucius admitted. ‘It seems a shame to kill her without having a little fun first, especially as I believe she’s still a virgin.’
Voldemort gazed at Lucius, studying him for a moment. ‘You desire the girl,’ he said, his voice a mixture of disgust and amusement.
Lucius shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant. ‘Miss Granger has great magical power, my Lord. In light of her abandonment by Potter and the Order, perhaps with the right sort of . . . encouragement . . . she can be persuaded to aid our cause instead.’
‘I have no need of help from a filthy Mudblood,’ Voldemort retorted coldly.
‘I am aware of that, my Lord,’ Lucius said smoothly, attempting to sooth his master’s ruffled feathers. ‘But it seems short-sighted to cast away the sort of power Miss Granger possesses just because of her blood status, especially when it could be instrumental in bringing about Potter’s downfall.’
Voldemort laughed, cold and high. ‘You make a pretty case, Lucius. Go . . . and indulge your desire for the Mudblood, if you must, but remember that ultimately she is dispensable, so don’t waste time.’
‘Yes, thank you, my Lord,’ Lucius replied. He gave a low, obsequious bow and took his leave.

‘If you were sensible about this your life could be so much better than it is currently,’ Lucius told Hermione. He had come to visit her again, although as ever he was an unwelcome visitor.
She stared at the blond wizard with loathing. ‘I told you before that you might as well kill me, Mr Malfoy. I have no intention of doing anything with you.’
‘That can be arranged,’ Lucius hissed angrily as his temper flared. He glared at her for a moment, his fists clenched, then relaxing them he added more gently, ‘Be sensible about this, Hermione. After all, I’m not asking for too much.’ His hand trailed down her cheek making her shiver.
‘For years, all I’ve heard from you and your horrid son is how I’m not good enough to be a witch, all because of my birth. You’ve abused me and been rude to me and called me foul names. How can that suddenly have changed? You’re a hypocrite, Mr Malfoy,’ Hermione accused as she gazed at him balefully.
Lucius gave a long, loud sigh then his voice became smoother and even more seductive. ‘Are you really so eager for death, Hermione? I’m offering you the chance for survival and I’m not even expecting you to do anything too onerous to achieve it. I’m not asking you to betray or go up against your friends or anything like that which, believe me, would be the usual way for your life to be spared. All I’m asking for is for us to become a little more . . . intimate.’
‘Of course I don’t want to die, but I would never betray or fight against my friends, especially not to save my own life,’ Hermione retorted stoutly. ‘And I have absolutely no interest in having any sort of relationship with you, either . . . especially an intimate one.’ She jerked her head away from his hand.
‘And yet you have no choice in the matter,’ Lucius pointed out. ‘You are kept here only at my whim, and you could be taken away and killed just as easily.’ He grabbed her chin tightly and turned her face up to look at his. ‘You live because I allow it, Mudblood,’ he hissed. ‘The Dark Lord was ready to kill you as you’ve been of no help in trapping Potter, but instead, he gave you to me to have some fun with. I could just as easily torture you to get what I want. The Cruciatus Curse is most effective at getting people to reconsider and it can be so entertaining.’
Hermione was aware that, unfortunately for her, it was probably true that she was only being kept alive because of Lucius’ current desire for her, but that didn’t make her any more receptive to giving in to his demands, not even when he threatened to torture her.
Her insides were squirming with fear. There was nothing she could do to stop him from using any of the Unforgivable Curses on her, and he was right that the Cruciatus Curse would eventually break her. But if that happened she probably wouldn’t care what he did to her sexually because her mind would be completely gone.
‘Go ahead, then,’ she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as terrified as she felt at that moment. ‘Of course, if you use it enough I’ll end up like Neville’s parents and won’t care what’s happening to me, and somehow I don’t think that’s what you want, is it? You want me to be aware of what you’re subjecting me to, Mr Malfoy, not completely mad.’
‘There are other curses that can be just as effective without causing madness,’ Lucius warned.
‘But you wouldn’t use the Imperius Curse for the same reason,’ Hermione predicted. ‘You could control me, even force me to accept you as a lover, but it wouldn’t be my own free will, and that’s what makes it interesting for you, isn’t it? You want me to want you.’ She shook her head. ‘But I can tell you now that’s never going to happen, however many curses you subject me to.’
‘Those are brave words for a little girl.’ Lucius sounded amused. ‘You’d be amazed at how quickly you would change your mind once the pain started.’ He leant closer so their noses were almost touching, his voice no higher than a whisper as he hissed, ‘And don’t believe for one minute I wouldn’t get pleasure out of watching you in pain because I can assure you I would.’
Hermione couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her body at the sadistic man’s words. Chillingly, she knew he was telling the truth. Lucius grinned nastily and released her chin, then moved away a little.
‘So, would you like to reconsider my offer?’ he asked, sounding magnanimous.
Hermione looked at the floor for a moment as if considering. She tried to calm her racing mind, her stomach that was doing somersaults, her guts twisting with fear. This was probably going to be the most painful, if not the actual last moment of her life, as she had no doubt what Lucius’ reaction would be to her response, but she had to find the strength to say the words and make them sound like she meant them.
‘Mr Malfoy, you are the last person in the world I would ever be intimate with,’ she told him honestly as she looked at him with utter hatred.
Lucius’ reaction was immediate and expected.
‘Crucio!’ he screamed in fury, his wand pointed at her.
Hermione was hit with a pain so intense it consumed all other thought or feeling. It completely surrounded her, the points of thousands of white-hot knives piercing her skin and causing agony like she had never felt before. She dropped to the floor, writhing; her hands grabbed her head, squeezing as if to stop it from bursting as the pain coursed through it and she screamed, long and loud.
Lucius watched her with interest for several minutes, then ended the curse, his lips curling into a cruel smile as the screaming finally subsided. Hermione continued to writhe in pain, the aftershock of the curse still working its way through her body. He looked down at her with disdain.
‘Let’s see how you feel once you’ve had a chance to recover,’ he said smugly, and he turned and walked away, leaving Hermione lying shaking on the floor.

Hermione’s heart sank when she heard the footsteps stop outside the door. It wasn’t time for food so it had to be Lucius returning to repeat his offer. In truth, she was actually surprised it had taken the Death Eater so long to seek her out, although she supposed the idea was to wait until she had completely recovered from the curse he had cast on her.
It was astonishing and not a little disconcerting to realise just how long it had taken for the effects to wear off completely, considering how short a time he had left her writhing in agony under the curse itself.
When she had thought about the Cruciatus Curse previously, without any idea of the pain it actually caused, she had always assumed that Neville’s parents had been tortured for hours to have ended up the way they were, but she now realised their madness had been achieved far more speedily although knowing the sadistic bitch who had inflicted the torture she was sure Bellatrix and her comrades would have continued long after the couple had lost their minds.
This gave Hermione a little comfort, knowing both that the Longbottoms’ suffering had been less than she had imagined, and that when Lucius cast the Cruciatus Curse upon her again, as he would be sure to do once she gave him her answer, her pain would be curtailed by the fracturing of her sanity. The pain would continue — that she knew — but in her madness she wouldn’t care and might even draw strength from it.
Despite being completely terrified about what was about to happen, Hermione was glad that Lucius had finally come as waiting for his return was almost a torture in itself. There had been a certain amount of panic as she had wondered worriedly whether he might come to her in the night and force himself upon her, knowing she was unlikely to give in to his demands. But she had been right about the blond Death Eater’s need for her to submit willingly, so he had waited, banking on the pain of the curse to change her mind.
He was going to be bitterly disappointed.
Hermione didn’t move as the door opened nor did she make any effort to look at the man who entered. Instead, she picked at her nails, fully absorbed in removing the dirt that had built up under them.
‘I trust you are completely recovered from your punishment?’ Lucius asked smoothly once he realised she had no intention of looking at him.
After another couple of seconds, Hermione finally raised her head to glare at Lucius. ‘Punishment . . . is that what you call it?’ Her voice was thick with disgust.
‘Would you prefer the term demonstration?’ Lucius asked mildly, sounding amused. ‘It was a demonstration of the punishment you can expect to receive when you defy me, Hermione. You defied me with your refusal to see reason, to accept the logical course, and so I punished you. I assume the lesson has been sufficiently well learned?’
‘As far as I can see it’s made no difference at all,’ Hermione said bravely. ‘It certainly hasn’t changed my mind in any way . . . about anything.’
‘Really? Are you ready to feel the bite of the Cruciatus Curse once more?’ Lucius asked threateningly.
Hermione shrugged. ‘That’s up to you, Mr Malfoy. Obviously, I have no desire to be tortured any further by your curses but then giving myself to you would be torture for me, too — both would be equally painful for me. I lose, whatever happens, so you may do as you will.’
Lucius, looking furious, pulled his wand on Hermione and waved it in her face.
‘I could make you scream forever,’ he hissed.
Hermione nodded. ‘You could. As I said, it’s your choice.’
For a moment there was silence as she waited for the curse to come but then Lucius lowered his wand.
‘You hope to goad me into killing you or driving you mad,’ he said, sounding impressed. ‘However, that isn’t going to happen, at least not at the moment. I will admit I’m rather disappointed that you haven’t chosen to see sense, Hermione, but I believe you still have a chance for redemption.’
Hermione sighed and shook her head. She knew she was being antagonistic but somehow she just couldn’t stop herself.
‘What does it take to make you realise that I will never willingly let you touch me?’ she asked. ‘You’ve used an Unforgivable Curse on me and yet still I won’t let you. There is nothing you can do that will convince me to accept you as a lover, and I mean nothing, Mr Malfoy. So do as you will. It makes no difference to me.’
A look of fury crossed Lucius’ face at Hermione’s words but once again he managed to calm himself. He reached out to grab her arm and roughly pulled her into a standing position.
‘We’ll see about that,’ he said, a cold smile appearing on his face. ‘But first, you need to get cleaned up. You’ve been here for a while and could do with a bath. I have no intention of touching you while you’re filthy.’
Still holding onto Hermione’s arm, Lucius pulled her across the floor towards the door. Her stomach was doing the twisting somersaults it always did when she was with Lucius, knowing that bad things were coming. But at least he was going to give her a chance to have a bath and wash her hair. For that, at least, she would be grateful.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly as they walked down the corridor. ‘A bath would be wonderful. Can I have some clean clothes, too?’
‘I’m not sure you need clothes,’ Lucius replied blithely. He smirked at her.
‘I get that you’re desperate to see me naked,’ Hermione said. She saw Lucius scowl at the comment. ‘But I am not an animal nor am I a naturist and whilst I am your prisoner, denying me clothes is a pretty low thing to do. Although I suppose if you intend to torture me again it doesn’t make much difference, does it, as I won’t care once I’m mad.’
They stopped in front of a door and Lucius opened it with his wand, pushing Hermione inside.
The bathroom was impressive, she had to concede; it certainly wasn’t the place she was usually taken when she needed to use the toilet. That room was small, containing only the basics — the toilet and a small hand basin with which she had vainly attempted to keep herself clean.
Although still not huge, this bathroom was beautifully decorated. The three walls that didn’t contain a window were covered in exceptionally realistic murals of what appeared to be the Tuscan countryside and the ceiling showed azure blue sky dotted with occasional tufts of fluffy white clouds. The window, which took up most of the fourth wall, let in a good quantity of light while revealing nothing through the frosted glass.
The wash basin was almost large enough to be a bath and the fixtures were gold and ornate in design. In the middle of the room, taking pride of place, was a massive claw-footed roll-top bath that almost made Hermione sigh with pleasure. To the right of the bath, a low table was stacked with piles of fluffy white towels in different sizes.
Lucius watched Hermione’s reaction at the sight of the bathroom and smiled. It was possible that he wouldn’t need to physically torture the beautiful young witch any further. Perhaps all she needed was a little pampering instead.
Well, he could certainly provide that and then, maybe, once she realised what she could gain from the relationship, she would be more amenable to his advances. He could give her pleasure, too, if she would just let him; he had never meant for the enjoyment to be his alone.
‘There’s plenty of hot water so use as much as you like,’ Lucius told Hermione, indicating the bath. He pointed to a cupboard that was well-concealed. ‘There is a range of bath products in there. I’m sure you’ll find one that will suit.’ He paused for a moment, then added, ‘I shall return in forty-five minutes. I assume that will give you sufficient time?’
Three-quarters of an hour in the bath sounded like heaven to Hermione at that moment. She found herself smiling at the blond man as an unexpected rush of good feeling towards him ran through her.
‘This bathroom is absolutely fantastic. Thank you so much for letting me use it, Mr Malfoy,’ she gushed, seemingly unable to stop herself.
Lucius smiled in return. ‘It is a pleasant place for a bath,’ he acknowledged, then gave her a small bow. ‘I shall leave you to your ablutions, Hermione. I’ll see you in forty-five minutes . . . and please, call me Lucius.’
As the door closed behind him, Hermione released the sigh she had been holding inside. She didn’t care that Lucius had just locked her in here, as she was sure he had. She had nowhere to go if she left the bathroom and no idea how to get out of the building. At the moment, her only desire was to get into that wonderful bath and clean herself properly.
She walked over to the cupboard Lucius had indicated and looked at the various bottles stored there. As he said, there was a huge range, catering for all tastes. Hermione selected a shampoo and conditioner that she hoped might do good things to her ever-wayward hair, then spent a couple of minutes deciding on the bubbles she wanted. Decision made, she turned on the taps in the bath to fill it as she undressed, glad to remove the filthy clothes.
Hermione wondered whether Lucius really did intend to make her go naked but as she stepped into the bath and sank beneath the soothing warm water complete with almond-scented bubbles she realised she didn’t really care at that moment.
The man had been completely honest and upfront with her about his desires, and him wanting to see her naked wasn’t really any big surprise. Of course, it was intended to put her at a disadvantage, making her feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. Perhaps he thought she would be easier to manipulate in that state.
The truth was that although Hermione knew she would feel both those things, she would at least be clean and she would still be in control. Lucius wanted her to submit to him, but however much he tried to shame her or even pamper her, as he was doing with this bath, she still had no intention of giving him what he wanted.
She looked around the room, enjoying the feel of the hot water and the smell of the almonds, the well-executed paintings and the warm sunlight coming through the window giving her surroundings an air of reality. She was in an almond orchard in Tuscany not held captive in a building that she was beginning to suspect was Malfoy Manor.
Hermione sighed happily and closed her eyes. This was true bliss.
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Legend of the Wolf