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. |
Hermione had suffered the most uncomfortable and unnerving evening she had ever spent with other people. Although her friendship with Ron, and particularly with Harry, had put her in plenty of difficult situations over the years she didn’t think she had ever felt quite so scared, embarrassed, miserable and unclean all at the same time.
Although she was fairly certain Lucius realised that she knew what he was going to do he forced her to spend several more hours at a party that was growing ever more raucous. As the Death Eaters became more rambunctious from the free-flowing alcohol their comments became louder, more overtly sexual, and in several cases quite malicious and misogynistic. And, as the only woman there, everything was directed at Hermione.
The way she was dressed didn’t help. It was bad enough that she was wearing those stockings that weren’t quite hidden by the shirt, which she was now wishing she had left baggy, although maybe with so many buttons undone it wouldn’t have helped. She wasn’t sure whether it was obvious that she was wearing no underwear — despite the fact that anyone half blind would have been able to see she wasn’t wearing a bra — or whether Lucius had told his friends about her lack of knickers.
Whatever the case she found herself with her back against the wall, body tensed defensively, as man after disgusting man came to talk to her, each of them leering and full of filthy desires that they were so eager to share with Hermione they made her feel dirty and urgently in need of another bath.
But at least they hadn’t touched her. However lewd they got — and Hermione was amazed at some of the things that had been suggested to her — Lucius didn’t actually allow them to lay a finger on her.
There was a moment of pure terror when she realised the werewolf who had attacked at the seminar was at the party and heading her way. Hermione already remembered with disgust the things he had threatened to do to her. There was a few seconds when it looked as if he had no intention of following Lucius’ command to leave her untouched, and she wasn’t at all sure that the blond Death Eater would be able to control him if he decided to attack.
Lucius Malfoy was tall and thin, graceful, beautiful and cruel but he would be no match for the beast that was almost the complete antithesis of him. The werewolf was massive, both height-wise and in bulk, even in his most human form, and this evening Hermione wasn’t at all sure he was in his most human form. He was grey, hairy and savage with long yellow teeth, and he scared the life out of her.
She vaguely remembered that Professor Lupin had talked about him, had told them about the vicious animal that had ruined his life and turned him into a werewolf when he was only a child. Fenrir Greyback, she remembered, had no compassion or kindness. His only desire was to turn as many people as possible into werewolves . . . and to have his pleasures from those who took his fancy.
Hermione held her breath as he approached, worried that her shaking would be commented on, probably with relish at the fear he was inducing in her. But before he could get too close, Lucius moved in and diverted his path, leading him over to join another group instead. The werewolf was clearly not happy about this and for the rest of the evening Hermione felt him watching her even when she was unable to see him. The tension in the room built, both from the worry she felt about what he could potentially do and from Lucius’ games, which surely must be about ready to end.
She breathed a huge sigh of relief when the werewolf, apparently tiring of the small talk the occupants of the party were engaged in and aware that Lucius was going to allow him to get no closer to Hermione than he already had, decided to leave. While she still didn’t feel comfortable, the whole atmosphere of the party seemed to lift at his departure and Hermione could feel some of the tension leaving her. Not much, though, as she knew she still had to face Lucius later and his friends were still making lewd comments and looking at her in a way that made her feel sick.
Then the alcohol dried up and the men were beginning to drift away, Lucius clearly having decided the party should be over.
Hermione couldn’t help but feel relieved although she knew things weren’t about to get any better for her. It wouldn’t be long before she would be made to choose Lucius, and then god only knew what lay in store for her. At least she hadn’t chickened out and begged him to take her away from the party. If that was what he had been hoping to achieve by exposing her to all those hideous misogynists then he had failed in that just as he had failed with the Cruciatus Curse. At least Hermione could be proud of herself for that.
But there was to be no pride over what was to follow, of that she was certain. When Lucius took her to his bed Hermione knew he would do everything in his power to assert his total dominance over her and make her pay for her refusal to submit earlier. He would strip her pride from her as surely as the flimsy clothes she was wearing, and if he was as thorough about it as she expected him to be — his own pride had, after all, been dented when she rejected him time and again — then it was unlikely she would recover from the experience.
Lucius might just as well kill her as she would have nothing left to live for by the time he finished with her. Perhaps the Cruciatus Curse and madness were the better options, but Lucius was surely aware of that, too, which was why he hadn’t cursed her again.
So here she stood in the now empty room, waiting for Lucius to return with the man he had chosen as his competition. Hermione wished she had the strength to fight him, to reject him once again, but she knew that with the stress she was feeling, which had been carefully cultivated by Lucius all evening, if “Squinty” or any of the others came anywhere near her she would probably scream and would definitely burst into tears.
As much as she hated to admit it, Lucius had won and now Hermione just wanted to get it over and done with. She was weary, bone-tired, and on the verge of completely breaking down.
But Lucius didn’t come back for her and for the next twenty minutes Hermione stood, not moving, inside the room wondering what was going on. As she stood there she debated her chances of escaping but knew that realistically they were pretty much non-existent otherwise Lucius would never have left her without some sort of security.
He and his friends were likely to be using the front door and the drive. Even if she managed to find a way out of the building elsewhere and without being seen, and she strongly suspected that all possible exits would have wards on them, she didn’t have her wand and would be forced to flee on foot, almost naked, and it surely wouldn’t be long before Lucius caught up with her, if one of his freakish friends didn’t first. She shuddered at that thought and stayed where she was.
She shuddered at that thought and stayed where she was.
Hermione had just begun to wonder whether Lucius was ever going to come back, not sure whether this was yet another way of him drawing out her discomfort, when he returned, his face still bearing that smug look she hated so much. He beamed when he realised she hadn’t moved and walked towards her, his arms raised as if to pull her into his embrace.
‘Are you finally ready for us to get intimate, Hermione?’ he asked pleasantly, his voice that lush drawl that promised much.
bad, would it? And maybe, if she played it right and did everything he asked without complaining she could get him to thatHermione swallowed hard. She knew she should just give in and get it over and done with. Lucius was a good-looking man, after all; surely sex with him wouldn’t be curb his desire to hurt and humiliate her that she was sure was simmering away beneath the surface. Her pride wouldn’t survive the encounter but if she could get him to relent just a little she might come through it intact and maybe even be stronger for the experience.
She wasn’t sure why she was still so completely opposed to a relationship with the handsome man, who probably could pleasure her in the way he had promised, except that his insistence that she would bow to his will combined with his complete lack of respect for who and what she was automatically made her want to say no. But stupidly, even knowing the game he had planned if she dared to reject him again, she was intrigued to know which one of them he was going to use against her.
Hermione shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Malfoy, but my opinion hasn’t changed. I still have no desire to get intimate with you. I’m afraid your party didn’t work, either.’
Lucius stopped walking and glared at Hermione furiously, his fists clenched in that way she now knew so well, but after a few deep breaths, he managed to relax his face back into something more reasonable.
‘Why do you insist on continuing with this pointless charade when you know it’s only a matter of time before you give me what I want?’ He asked the question calmly but his voice was much colder now. Lucius' eyes glittered maliciously as he continued, ‘I saw how you reacted to the attention you received at the party. They were all extremely vocal in their desires, weren’t they? And do you know what? I think every single one of those men would happily follow through on what they suggested, given the opportunity.’ He grinned again as Hermione shivered. His voice was back to being seductive now as he added, ‘I could give you so much pleasure, Hermione. I can make your first time something truly special if you just give me the chance.’
Hermione’s head dropped as she thought about what he was saying.
Just say yes, a little voice in her brain told her, sounding desperate. Just say yes and it will all be over, apart from the sex, and Lucius will keep his promise and make it good because he wants you to adore him.
‘What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?’ Lucius asked gently. He had moved again, close enough to touch her now. He put his hand under Hermione’s chin to pull her face up to look at him. ‘Feeling embarrassed about giving in to me after all your bluster? Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s just between us. It’ll be our little secret,’ he whispered, and then he grinned that smug grin.
Hermione looked him straight in the eyes and shook her head as she silently mouthed the word no.
‘You’re not still saying no,’ Lucius said sounding astonished. His voice turned cold again. ‘You know what’s going to happen next, and you know you will finally choose me, so why not be sensible and take the easy path?’
‘I don’t want to have sex with you,’ Hermione admitted quietly. ‘I never have done, and nothing you can do will ever change that, Mr Malfoy.’
‘I’ve told you to call me Lucius,’ he told her sharply. ‘I happen to know you’re wrong in your assertion . . . but if you’re so determined to play this game, then so be it.’
Without saying anything further he released her face and turned and strode rapidly back across the room and out the door.
Hermione’s heart was pounding. Was she mental? The little voice in her brain was screaming at her, and she had to admit she was beginning to wonder herself. Why was she putting herself through this, especially when she already knew she couldn’t possibly have sex with any of the others Lucius was going to choose either?
Did she really want her humiliation to be so complete . . . and in front of someone else? It wouldn’t be just their little secret any longer. Once someone else knew, everyone would know. If only Lucius hadn’t given her that smug smile that would always make her rebel against him. She sighed loudly, her head in her hands as she despaired over what she had just done.
As she waited for Lucius to return Hermione rapidly began to run through the men at the party in her mind one more time. The problem was, thinking about them didn’t make them or Lucius in any way more desirable. She just wanted to sink to the floor in the corner of the room and curl up in a ball and sob. But whoever Lucius threw at her, she had to stay strong. He might strip her of her pride when they were alone in his bed, but here and now she would put on a brave face.
But then Lucius returned and Hermione’s world fell apart.
She realised that she had been expecting the squinty man to be Lucius’ competitor. She knew Lucius was aware that he was the one she’d had the strongest reaction to from the little time she had spent talking to him. Hermione had discovered he was a nasty little man with a filthy mind and a real fetish for doing strange things to feet, which had made her feel even queasier than at any other time that evening.
But it turned out that Lucius hadn’t gone for the obvious choice . . . or maybe he had. Because walking through the door next to the blond man she suddenly hated more than she had ever hated anyone in her life before was the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback.
Hermione felt her stomach clench, causing her to gasp for breath. Her eyes burned from the sting of tears and despair settled on her like a thick, heavy mantle. The werewolf was the perfect choice for Lucius’ opposition. After all, no one in their right mind would ever consider choosing him; it was completely unthinkable, wrong in every possible way.
It was so wrong that she had never even thought about Greyback being a contender. He wasn’t even human, at least not fully. She bit her lip to stifle the wail of despair she so desperately wanted to let loose. After blinking a couple of times she took a deep breath and stared straight at the two men, who stopped almost within touching distance of her.
The werewolf grinned toothily and Hermione’s heart almost stopped beating. It was terrifying; she was more scared than she had ever been in her entire life. He sniffed her, loudly and clearly satisfyingly for him from the noise he made — a low grumbling sound that resembled the growl of an animal.
‘Ah, the girl,’ he said, his voice gravelly and deep. It almost sounded painful. ‘She smells delicious . . . and I’m sure will taste even better. Such soft, sweet skin . . . .’
He made to move closer to Hermione but Lucius stopped him with his hand.
‘No touching, remember,’ he said smoothly as he looked possessively at Hermione. ‘The girl is mine. You can look . . . and smell, but not touch.’
Lucius glanced at Hermione, his superiority over her blatant in all his mannerisms: from the way he stood to that horrid smug grin that Hermione had the urge to slap off his handsome face. Now that the initial shock of his choice had worn off she was furious with Lucius for what he was doing to her and that anger made her reckless.
‘I want to talk to Fenrir,’ she told him, her voice much stronger than she had expected. ‘Alone.’
Lucius’ smile faltered a little and his eyes narrowed but then he recovered. ‘Why do you want to—?’ He broke off when he saw the scowl on Hermione’s face at his question. He shrugged, then added, ‘Of course, anything you want, Hermione. I can afford to be generous at this point.’ He smiled again as if demonstrating his largesse.
He turned to the werewolf. ‘Hermione has requested to talk to you. I will be within wand range,’ he warned. ‘If you make any attempt to touch her I will hex you. Do you understand?’
Fenrir looked at Lucius with dislike for a moment, then gave a single nod of his head. ‘She will not be touched,’ he growled, although he didn’t sound at all happy about it.
Lucius backed away until he was standing in the doorway. He pointed his wand at Fenrir.
‘I remember you, girly,’ the werewolf said once they were alone. ‘The seminar. Lucius took you away from me.’
Hermione nodded. ‘I remember, and I also remember what you said you were going to do to me.’ Fenrir grinned even more widely, but before he could respond she asked, ‘Do you know why you’re here now?’
The werewolf laughed. ‘Malfoy wanted me to scare you a little bit.’
Hermione sighed loudly. ‘He’s using you to force me into having sex with him.’ She looked appraisingly at the werewolf. ‘And I don’t want to.’
‘And how’s he doing that, then?’ Fenrir asked sceptically.
Hermione began to gnaw nervously on her bottom lip, not quite believing what she was about to do. She really was completely mental. ‘I have to make a choice between you and him,’ she told him honestly.
Fenrir roared with laughter at this and looked impressed as he said, ‘Malfoy is a clever bastard. I’ll give him that.’
Hermione looked over the werewolf’s shoulder at the tall blond man leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. He still looked smug.
‘I don’t want to die and I don’t want to become a werewolf,’ she told Fenrir bluntly. ‘If you can promise me that neither of those things will happen, I will choose you over him.’
Fenrir looked at her in astonishment then, before her eyes, he seemed to grow and become more wolfish, his voice becoming even deeper, more of a growl. ‘You’re going to pick me over pretty boy? What’s the catch?’
‘There isn’t one,’ Hermione assured him, her heart pounding fit to burst. She still couldn’t believe what she was doing but it was too late to back out now. ‘I just don’t want to give myself to Mr Malfoy . . . not under any circumstances and certainly not because of blackmail like this.’ She saw Fenrir’s eyes light up as understanding overtook him. ‘Look, if you promise not to bite or kill me, I’ll do anything you want . . . anything. But I need your agreement that I will still be me at the end of it, that I will still be human not a werewolf . . . and not dead or injured.’
She could see Fenrir thinking, clearly weighing up the options and wondered whether it really was a serious consideration for him. Could he honestly subjugate his entire nature for her and leave her alive and human? She realised she wasn’t even sure it was possible.
For a moment Hermione began to panic about what she had just offered the werewolf, knowing she had been extremely stupid, especially in agreeing to do anything he wanted. The little voice in her mind was completely in shock at what she had done. But she hadn’t been able to help herself. Lucius and his stupid smug grin had forced her into it just to spite him, and now she had no choice but to do whatever the hulking beast in front of her decided.
Perhaps he would say no, and maybe that would be the best option. At least if that happened she would know she had given it her best shot to escape Lucius and her fate really was tied to the blond Death Eater.
Fenrir grinned at her again. He was looking far more human now. ‘All right then,’ he said, nodding as he spoke. ‘I’ll agree. I wouldn’t normally even consider it, but with such a sweet prize on offer . . . .’ He gave a rumbling growl that sent shivers up Hermione’s spine and reached out a hand to stroke her face.
‘I warned you, no touching,’ Lucius sent sharply from across the room.
Fenrir growled again angrily but moved his hand away.
‘Then will you make an Unbreakable Vow on this?’ Hermione asked hurriedly, aware that she didn’t have much more time. Lucius was getting antsy and surely wouldn’t leave them alone for too much longer. Fenrir growled for the third time. He obviously didn’t like that idea. ‘How can I know you’ll keep your promise otherwise?’ she added fairly.
‘You’ll do anything I want?’ Fenrir clarified.
Hermione nodded. ‘Yes, I promise. But you have to make an Unbreakable Vow.’ She looked pale and scared.
‘It’s a deal,’ he agreed. ‘But how are you going to manage it with pretty boy ready to hex my balls off if I so much as touch you?’
‘I’ll manage it,’ Hermione assured him, scared but determined now.
Her heart was clattering as she realised what she had just voluntarily submitted herself to. She was completely mad.
‘Do you have a wand?’ Fenrir gave another single nod and his hand reached towards the pocket of his robe. ‘Give it to me,’ she said quietly, waiting with bated breath as once again the werewolf considered her words.
‘Why should I give it to you?’ he asked, sounding belligerent.
‘Because Malfoy will never let you use it. He’ll hex you before that happens and that won’t get either of us what we want. Give me your wand and I’ll perform the spell. He won’t be able to see because you’re blocking his view. By the time he realises what we’ve done it will be too late for him to do anything to stop it.’
‘And what’s to stop you from hexing me once I give you my wand?’ Fenrir asked. ‘Why should I trust you?’
‘Because I promise not to use it against you,’ Hermione replied. She stared into Fenrir’s eyes to show him she was being sincere. ‘I meant what I said. I don’t want to be with him and I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done to achieve that. So, please . . . we don’t have much more time. He’ll join us again soon.’
The werewolf looked distrustfully at Hermione but he slid his hand into his robe and pulled out his wand. He slipped it into her hand, making his bulk as large as possible to hide what they were doing from Lucius. Hermione gripped his arm and quietly began to chant the words of the spell, concentrating hard as she knew how important it was that she got it completely right.
‘Haven’t you finished yet?’ Lucius asked, his voice sounding bored now. He was twirling his wand in his hand as he watched the couple, his foot tapping against the door.
Hermione shook her head over Fenrir’s shoulder but she didn’t stop chanting. She was so close and she couldn’t let Lucius stop or distract her. The spell had to be in place by the time he came over to ensure her safety once she made her choice.
‘What are you doing over there?’ he continued waspishly. ‘What on earth can you be talking about so intently?’
Fenrir turned his head and grinned. ‘We’re discussing the weather.’
Lucius, now suspecting he was being made a fool of, started to move towards them. Hermione spoke as rapidly as she could, needing to get the spell completed before he took the final few steps.
‘Say you agree,’ she hissed to Fenrir.
‘I agree,’ he replied with a growl.
She waved the wand one final time and watched as the coloured strands that had been curling around their arms clamped tight around them like a cage of barbed wire, then seemed to disappear into their skin. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly passed the wand back to Fenrir as they released each other’s arms, his hand sliding the wand back into his robe just as Lucius reached them.
‘I’ve no idea what was so important for you to discuss with the werewolf but I think it’s time to stop now,’ Lucius said coldly.
It had become clear to him that the conversation was yet another stalling tactic by Hermione and he’d had enough. It was time for them to go to bed and for him to at last get the reward he had waited for so patiently.
‘You and I have things to do, Hermione, and I’m sure Greyback has better things he could be doing with his time, too.’
‘Put your wand down, Mr Malfoy,’ Hermione said gently. Lucius looked at her in surprise for a moment but he didn’t lower his wand. ‘He’s not going to hurt me,’ she continued.
‘Do you know nothing about werewolves?’ Lucius asked scornfully. ‘Greyback here wouldn’t hesitate to attack given the opportunity. I imagine the only thing stopping him is that he knows I wouldn’t think twice about killing him if he did.’
She looked at Fenrir, who moved back to give her a little room. ‘You should trust your friends more, Mr Malfoy otherwise, what’s the point in them being your friends?’
‘Greyback is more an acquaintance than a friend,’ Lucius admitted stiffly, ‘and I’m sure you’re aware that he stayed for a very particular reason.’ He stared pointedly at her. ‘But the night is drawing on and I’m sure we’re all eager to get to bed, so let’s not detain him any longer, Hermione.’
‘But I was quite enjoying Fenrir’s company,’ Hermione insisted. ‘He’s actually quite interesting when you get past the savage beast bit. Perhaps we should have another drink. And I really think you should stop waving your wand around.’
‘We don’t want another drink,’ Lucius said sharply. ‘Stop stalling. You know you’re delaying the inevitable and it can’t go on.’
Hermione shrugged. ‘As far as I can see things haven’t changed since we spoke earlier, Mr Malfoy. My decision is still the same.’
Lucius’ eyes narrowed angrily. ‘Are you sure you know what you’re saying?’ He studied her for a moment then added quietly through gritted teeth, ‘Do you really want to play this game, Mudblood?’
‘I don’t want to do anything, as I keep telling you,’ Hermione retorted. ‘But you won’t listen to me, so you give me no choice but to keep saying it.’
‘I’m sure you’ve realised why Greyback is here,’ Lucius said. Hermione just stared at him. ‘Are you really so stubborn that you’re going to make me do this? I honestly don’t understand why you’re being so precious about it.’
Hermione sighed loudly. ‘I’ve told you time and again that I’m not interested in a relationship with you. Whatever you say or do doesn’t change that fact.’
Fenrir was watching the couple with amusement. ‘She’s not interested in you, Malfoy,’ he pointed out helpfully, a massive grin on his face.
Lucius glared at him. ‘Maybe not, but I think she’ll change her mind in a minute.’
‘Please don’t do this, Mr Malfoy,’ Hermione pleaded. She looked at him unhappily.
‘You should call me Lucius, I’ve told you that before.’ His voice was sharp now. ‘You knew this was coming, Mudblood, and you can’t say I haven’t given you every opportunity to make the decision before being forced into it.’
Hermione’s head dropped and she looked at her feet.
Lucius put his hand on her shoulder and patted it soothingly. ‘We both know you’ve lost, Hermione. Give in gracefully.’ His voice was soothing, too.
Hermione shrugged his hand off and raised her head. ‘I told you I’m not interested.’
Lucius sighed. ‘Fine. As you’re so determined to make me do this I will. You say you don’t want to get intimate with me but are you really so sure when the choice is between me and the werewolf? It’s time for you to make your final decision, Hermione.’
Hermione gazed at him evenly and somehow managing to keep her voice steady she answered, ‘I told you, nothing has changed. My choice is Fenrir, not you.’
Lucius was so shocked by her reply that the hand holding his wand dropped. ‘Greyback!’ he roared in disbelief. ‘You would honestly choose that . . . that . . . animal over me?’
‘She really doesn’t want to fuck you, Malfoy,’ Fenrir said sounding smug.
Hermione stared at Lucius coldly. ‘I’ve told you time and again that I wasn’t interested, Mr Malfoy. And seeing you looking so smug because you thought you had me trapped and that I had no other choice but you was really what tipped the balance for me. There was no reason for me to be interested in you in the first place. You’re old enough to be my father and you have absolutely no respect for me.
'Let’s face it, in all the years I’ve known you you’ve always been more than happy to call me a Mudblood and point out my so-called deficiencies as a witch. But now I’m old enough to have sex and suddenly everything’s changed and my blood status apparently no longer matters. Why on earth do you think I would want to give myself to someone like you? And why would you want me? It’s crazy and sick . . . just as your game of choices was sick.’
‘And yet, instead, you choose to give yourself to an animal — older than me, might I point out — who will do unspeakable things to you. Have you any idea what being a werewolf is like . . . assuming he doesn’t just decide to rip you apart when he’s finished with you, instead?’ Lucius said sourly.
‘I have no fear about my time with Fenrir,’ Hermione lied. In truth, she was absolutely terrified, especially as she had no idea what he would want from her, but there was no way she was letting either of them know that.
Lucius looked at her with loathing but didn’t say anything.
‘You went too far, Mr Malfoy,’ Hermione told him quietly, determined to get the blond man back for everything he had subjected her to over the weeks she had been his prisoner. She gave a small, bitter chuckle. ‘The funny thing is that if you hadn’t chosen to use Fenrir I would have given in to you. You saw how disgusted I was by the men at your party earlier. If you had chosen the squinty man, or that creepy Rodolphus, or even one of those ancient guys I would have crumbled, because you were right — I would rather have you than them. But you decided to push it, to take it to the limit, and because of that I had no choice but to stand up to you and choose Fenrir.’
Lucius looked shocked at Hermione’s confession and silently cursed himself for trying to be too clever. He knew he should have gone for Dolohov as Hermione had quite clearly been repulsed by the man, but he had been convinced a werewolf would seal the deal, especially as the beast had terrorised her previously.
‘You may have made your choice but you’re still my prisoner and you live only because of my goodwill,’ he reminded her coldly. He raised his wand again, pointing it at Hermione’s heart.
‘I suggest you put your wand down, Malfoy,’ Fenrir growled. He was pointing his own wand at the blond man. ‘You wanted Hermione to choose, and she chose. You shouldn’t have played the game if you weren’t prepared to lose.’ Lucius glared at the werewolf, then back at Hermione. He didn’t lower his wand. ‘If you do anything to hurt her I will kill you,’ Fenrir promised grimly. ‘Now lower your wand.’
Knowing he had little choice, Lucius grudgingly did as he was asked and stepped back from Hermione, watching her carefully as he thought rapidly. He didn’t know what she had offered Greyback to get him to help her but he couldn’t help but suspect some trick was involved — a trick that would have the werewolf removing her from Malfoy Manor and back to freedom, no doubt. If that happened she would be out of his control and that couldn’t be allowed to happen.
But if Hermione really did intend to let the werewolf touch her she was unlikely to survive the encounter and certainly wouldn’t come out of it with her humanity intact. The kindest thing to do then would be to kill her, to put her out of the misery that would surely follow and to remove from the world the threat she would pose as a werewolf.
If Hermione was still at the Manor he would be able to achieve that, even if it meant a battle with Greyback to ensure it happened. He glanced at her once more. She had chosen the werewolf so she could have the werewolf. If she really had agreed to have sex he had no doubt Greyback would be more than ready to collect.
‘Take her, then,’ Lucius retorted, the disgust evident in his voice. ‘But remember she is still a prisoner of the Dark Lord, and as such you will not remove her from the Manor. She is to stay within these four walls.’
Fenrir shrugged, his eyes glinting with amusement. ‘I can do it anywhere. All I need is the girl.’ He gave a small growl at Lucius’ look of annoyance and added, ‘You can watch if you want, Malfoy. You might not actually get to enjoy the lovely Hermione yourself but you can experience it through me.’ He made a biting motion with his teeth, then licked his lips as if with satisfaction.
‘It will be up to you to dispose of her body if you kill her otherwise, you need to return her to her room,’ Lucius stated coldly, completely ignoring Fenrir’s comment. Without another look at either of them, he turned and stalked out of the room.
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