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Feasting on Rabbits	By : midnightpanther Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 23434 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own or have any claim on Harry Potter. This fanfiction is solely fanbased and is in no way being used to make money.

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I have a friend whose birthday just passed and I told her this: You have a gift that you’ll receive when you find it; however, you won’t find it if you look for it. Happy Birthday Yoshi! And note, it’s because you check AFF daily for new Fenrir/Harry fics that I was able to tease you with that impossible clue*.

*Note: that clue was a taunt. Loves!

Feasting on Rabbits

Blood Pudding: part one

There is so much good in the worst of us,

And so much bad in the best of us,

That it hardly becomes any of us

To talk about the rest of us.

~Edward Wallis Hoch

The bedroom door slammed and with a start Harry found himself in a tangled mess on the floor, his blanket completely twisted around his limbs as he struggled to understand why he was no longer asleep, and no longer on his bed.

“Bloody ‘ell, mate, it’s seven in the freakin’ mornin’!” Seamus’s elbows were pointed towards the ceiling as he covered his eyes; it was all Harry could see of the boy still laying (rudely in Harry’s groggy opinion) in bed. Harry lay awkwardly on the floor.

“Yeah. Well, tell that to Hermione!” Ron replied as he stomped his way to the chest by his bed, he fumbled angrily with the latch then threw something inside before slamming the lid shut. That something tinked off the wood giving Harry the impression it was a piece of jewellery. “She, she... SHE – !”

“What?” Seamus rolled over, away from Ron, and pulled his blanket over his face.

“She – ! Well...” Ron’s face rouged, “no, nothing! I don’t want to talk about it.” He flopped onto his bed with an angry grunt and Harry caught a glimpse of the pillow he was using to hide his red face before it too disappeared from view.

As concerned as Harry was for his best mate’s emotional welfare Harry was not in a position to do anything about it, instead he wanted to get back in bed but didn’t dare bring attention to himself. So he waited, and listened. There was some shuffling as a few of the boys repositioned themselves (on their beds!) and then the room went quiet. Good, Harry thought, I can just... as he reached up to his bed, intent on grabbing his discarded boxers, Ron let loose an angry sigh and sat up. He was no longer fully centered on himself, Harry groaned inwardly as Ron sought him.

“Oi, Harry. Whatcha doing down there?”

Harry gave one last blind grab for his undergarments.

He found his pillow instead.

“Uh. Nothing!” Harry hastily assured. He’d only been awake a few minutes, and not by choice at that, he couldn’t be expected to function fully!

“What’z Harry doin’ now?” Seamus rolled back over and opened an eye to gauge if the situation warranted his attention. He must have decided it didn’t.

Harry sat up; being mindful that his blanket was the only thing separating his naked ass from the rest of his housemates. He didn’t sleep nude, which they were well aware of so they would deduce the rest. “I was sleeping peacefully.” Harry held the blanket securely around his waist as he stood, intent of drawing the curtains around his bed, locating his boxers and getting inside them without creating a compromising situation for himself.

Instead, Neville whipped the bedroom door open, in a spectacularly similar gesture of Ron’s just moments prior. “Harry!” He called, and Harry inwardly groaned as all eyes, even the bleary Seamus’s, turned to him.

“Yes?” Harry asked with all the dignity a bloke with a blanket-skirt could muster. His boxers were on the other side of the bed and he eyed them like a man lost at sea who had caught his first glimpse of land. So close. So close and yet...

“Why’d you break up with Ginny like that?” Neville, like Ron, entered the room angry. Clearly the world on the other side of the dorm door was broken.

“Like what?” Harry discretely took a couple steps to the other side of his bed and picked up his underwear behind his back, concentrating on being discreet about his actions. And then realised what exactly Neville had said. “What? We aren’t together.”

“Not anymore!” Neville insisted with a glare.

“Harry!” Ron said, and Harry felt cold dread creep up the back of his spine as he turned to Ron – who was already in a foul mood – while concealing his boxers from both friends who talked to him from different sides of the room. “What did you say to my sister?” His mood now seemed to sizzle.

“What? Nothing! We aren’t – weren’t, going out!” But as Ron shot out of bed the room shrunk with each step he took. “Honest, there was nothing.” Harry pleaded. The broken world should have stayed on the other side of the door, not invading and attacking innocent people while they slept!

“Nothing?!” This had the opposite effect Harry was hoping for. Ron was livid. “You guys have been inseparable all month!” He jabbed Harry’s chest, accentuating each word, “And. You. Say. My. Sister. Means. Nothing!?”

Harry panicked and raised his hands defensively, forgetting entirely about the blanket he’d been grasping in his attempt to appease his best mate. “Honest, I didn’t break up with her; I don’t even think about her... like...” His blanket was piled around his ankles and Ron was sputtering instead of speaking. “...that.” He was still holding his boxers.

“Harry!” His voice was up three octaves. “You’re naked!”

Harry’s face turned scarlet, though his shade of embarrassment couldn’t quite beat Ron’s hue of anger. Harry quickly put his boxers on and felt better for it.

It took Ron a few seconds, in which Harry found it impossible to utter a word, before his best friend declared to everyone in the room, ergo those who had unknowingly been present while Harry had mooned his dorm-mates and... “You were masturbating.” Ron deduced correctly and Harry froze. “...About Ginny?”

Harry latched on to the misunderstanding like driftwood to a drowner. “No! Of course not. She’s the last person I’d masturbate to!” The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back, hanging thicker than a noose and heavier than gold. The guttural growl that escaped Ron’s throat was the only warning before Harry saw a fist; closely.

§

Usually the breakfast table was the birth of Hogwarts rumours, by dinner they were either proved or discredited, unless they couldn’t be then they’d carry over to the next day if they were interesting or funny enough. The last couple of weeks had everyone talking about the possibility of werewolves in the Forbidden Forest.

Did you hear about Holly’s rabbit?

                I heard Hagrid refuses to enter the forest

He just patrols the outskirts

                The only thing left was its foot, even the bones were crushed by teeth

She was by the lake, letting it munch on leaves when it happened

                Even the grounds aren’t safe

I dare you to pluck a flower from the Forbidden Forest

                I dare you to walk by the lake at night

Devlin swears he saw the shadow of a large man in the woods

                If I was bitten my family would disown me

Mine are Muggle, I just wouldn’t tell them and find somewhere to hide every full moon

                I’d rather just die

Harry sat in morose silence as he rubbed his eye. He’d have to go see Madam Pomfy, Hermione was the only student he knew who could heal small surface wounds (and without side-effects at that), and she hadn’t come to breakfast. Instead Harry sat squished beside Neville and Ron.

“Harry, your face?” One of the Patil twins sat across from him and gasped in shock after everyone helped themselves to the toast basket, leaving one burnt piece that Harry refused to put on his plate. The bread bowl sat between them on the table and with it practically empty she could see his face.

“Oh that,” said Luna when it became apparent Harry wasn’t going to respond. “He fought off one of the werewolves last night.”

“You did!?” Three other girls suddenly took interest. “But it’s not the full moon yet...” One of them said doubtfully.

“Exactly.” Explained Luna, “Which is why he has a shiner and not a bite. Those things fester.” She whispered matter-of-factly.

Harry groaned and plucked the burnt toast from the basket, burnt toast suddenly didn’t seem all that horrible. He put the toast on his plate and reached for the fresh pieces that didn’t materialize. His hand hovered awkwardly a moment before he picked his fork back up and shifted the eggs on his plate just to have something to do. A quick scan of the table showed everyone else had perfectly toasted bread. Harry thought the world wasn’t broken, just had an agenda against Harry.

Harry reached for the salt but Ron grabbed it first, used it, and placed it to his other side, well out of Harry’s reach. When Ron was upset, he tended to be childish, Harry ignored the gesture and settled for the pepper but when he reached for it Neville had been one step ahead of him and had placed it well out of Harry’s reach. Neither boy so much as looked at Harry and the company across the table was all gossiping girls.

...had a fist fight. But he’s Harry Potter, so of course he won

Ginny? Saw her crying earlier, dunno what thatwas about

                Sure is quieter without that Know-It-All shushing everyone, so annoying. We’re just voicing our opinions

Did you hear, there was a birthday box outside Snape’s door

                I heard Dumbledore is hiding something in the forest and only said there were werewolves as a ruse

I wonder what’s actually in the forest

Yeah, and Neville consoled her, I told you they’d...

Harry liked it when Hermione reprimanded everyone for gossiping. Harry leaned forward and looked down the table, he guessed gossip could be right about something’s, Hermione really wasn’t here. Whatever happened between her and Ron had chased her from the breakfast table, which she normally came to despite the gossip, that alone demonstrated how irked she must actually be.

And Ginny was absent too. Harry had hoped to talk to her. Last night, like most nights this month, he had spent the evening in her company. He helped her with her homework (well, as much as he could) already having passed the same lessons the year before, and she provided him company. Something he vastly craved after Ron and Hermione had started dating. Plus, her company was warm, like being with Ron; she felt like family. If it wasn’t for the fact it was Ginny Harry could almost see how Ron could have jumped to the masturbation conclusion. But it was Ginny!

They enjoyed each other’s company in a platonic way. Hadn’t they? Like usual they had talked last night and not about homework. Well. Not just homework. But Harry was so comfortable in Ginny’s presence that if he had to remember last night’s conversation... nothing stood out. Had he said something careless? It hadn’t crossed his mind that Ginny would spend time with him if not for the same reasons that he spent with her and just couldn’t comprehend the thought of her having an ulterior motive. What had he said to upset her... maybe even enough to make her cry?

“Ron, about this morning...” Harry began, suddenly uncomfortable being isolated while being surrounded by people. The Patil twin and Luna were still debating Harry’s made-up fight that now took place in the Forbidden Forest where all Harry had was his broom, by the way they described it Harry could have been naked. Ginny and Hermione were absent and Ron and Neville blocked any discussions Harry could have had with his other dorm-mates. Besides, he couldn’t have both Weasley’s mad at him.

But Ron just turned away. Stung, Harry hesitated but reached out and patted Ron on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Though Harry didn’t know what he was apologising for, just felt that he had to make amends.

After a moment of silence Harry asked, “Ron, did you hear me?”

“Well, you should be,” Ron spat causing Harry to splutter indignantly.

“You know what Ron, I’m not sorry. I didn’t do anything wrong, AND – ” Harry continued, sensing Ron was about to interrupt, “if I do have someone to apologise to, it damn well isn’t you.”

Not even waiting for a response Harry stood and exited the Great Hall, feeling just a bit better for his outburst. And since he was a bit early Harry decided to go see Madam Pomfrey now, before rumours of his black eye spread, or worse – became embellished.

“Oi, Potter. A moment.”

And Harry’s fleeting joy of the day fell buried beneath dead leaves as Draco Malfoy stood before him, arms crossed and back straight, very much reminding Harry of a stuck-up prince atop a high horse, the kind whose shoes were always spotless because they never had to step foot on the ground themselves to get their shoes dirty. The kind who thought they were all that but who in actuality the citizens merely tolerated.

“I don’t think so, Malfoy.” Harry made to walk past the surprisingly singular Slytherin but found the boy somehow in front of him, grey eyes mere inches from green, staring at him as if trying to decide... what?

“Suit yourself, then.” He said nonchalantly as he took two quick (but curse him, elegant) steps back and leaned against the wall. “Far be it for me to interfere in The Great and Wondrous Boy-Who –”

“Shut it, twinkle toes.” Ha, the bloke looked downright indignant. Served him right. Harry continued on his way unhindered, without so much as a scornful remark or dig about... well, about anything Harry. Quiet was very suspicious Malfoy behaviour so when Harry turned a corner he discreetly turned slightly to see what Malfoy was doing. And almost tripped when he spotted the Slytherin leaning against the wall and peering at his toes.

§

Before Harry got to the Infirmary he thought he spotted tied-back red hair and veered on instinct. Ginny. He had to ask her if what Neville said was true. If she had... deeper feelings for him, more so than the mutual companionship he thought they already shared. But every corner she turned put her just out of Harry’s sight. Wherever she was going, she was in a hurry. Harry called out to her but she didn’t turn once, absurdly Harry was beginning to think he had the wrong girl.

By the time he was sure she was gone he realized he was on the wrong end of the Castle. The greenhouses were on the south outer-side, while Harry stood on the third floor west-wing. There was no time to double back to visit Madam Pomfrey, instead Harry had to jog to the greenhouses just to attempt making it there on time for class. In his haste he fell down the stairs with eight steps to go (though Harry heard laughter and was sure he was tripped). Harry’s knee and elbow were scraped and bleeding. Yet another thing to show Pomfrey.

By the time Harry greeted Sprout, she had already began the lesson and instructed Harry to wait outside while she finished explaining to those who had some insight to what she was talking about. That was okay though, Harry was sweaty and out of breath, he didn’t mind waiting before showing up even more of a mess than he usually was.

When Sprout joined him she informed him he had lost his House three points and that he had been tardy one too many times to his discredit. Harry had received detention.

Herbology hadn’t gone well; Neville ignored him the entire lesson, as did Ron (though that was to be expected), as a result Harry couldn’t keep up with the rest of the class.

“At seven, Potter. And please refrain from being late.” Sprout’s smiling face beguiled her tone and Harry nodded with a forced smile though he doubted he created the same effect.

By the time lunch came around Harry was actually looking forward to hanging with his classmates. Having only picked at breakfast Harry was one of the first to arrive but when Neville and Ron sat beside him again, all quiet seething and still upset, Harry knew he wasn’t going to get any company that wouldn’t ignore him. He waited until everyone sat down but couldn’t see Ginny or Hermione anywhere. Not wanting to listen to gossip and be snubbed again Harry took a sandwich half and left the Great Hall.

This morning’s experience had been enough.

Hermione was likely in the library. If Harry could just talk to her, she had a way of figuring things out and coming to solutions. Plus, Ron would listen to her.

The sandwich was eaten by the time Harry got there, but, like usual, the library was silent. If Harry listened he could hear the faint whispering of people hidden within the shelves.

The Hogwarts library was actually rather large with the Restricted Section creating an extra room out of shelves. The rest of the library seemed to stretch in varying angles, as if each category wanted to be a section unto itself. Hermione knew where everything was, if she wasn’t so brilliant she could surely have taken Madam Pince’s job.

Harry found her in one of the back nooks, the kind that sported an assortment of spider-webs and dust. He scanned one of the titles – Infectious Disease: The Forgotten Subject: Academic Medicine. And promptly lost interest. Well, there had to be a reason she knew those minor-healing spells. Even the most basic of the craft had complicated wand-movement that only sometimes appeared simple; appeared being the key word.

“H – ” Harry began to call to his friend, but a small hiccupping wail cut him off instantly. Someone else was there? Hermione’s dusty nook was an ‘L’ shape so Harry couldn’t see who it was but recognized the voice.

“...least he actually cares for you. Harry doesn’t notice me no matter what I do.” Sniffed Ginny.

“But he’s always with you.” Hermione defended.

“No, no. I’m always with him.”

“That’s not –” true. Harry finished Hermione’s sentence in his head. Silence stretched a moment and Harry debated standing around listening to girls chat about their feelings. But well, it was about him. And if not him then about Ron and Hermione who were Harry’s best friends who he couldn’t help or understand if he didn’t know their situation. But then, if they didn’t tell him, then it wasn’t likely any of his business.

Even if Ginny was talking about him, and finding out what the misunderstanding had been about was one of Harry’s goal’s, it didn’t justify eavesdropping.

Did it?

No! No, of course it didn’t. Harry should just announce he was there, after all, he had been looking for both girls and it was great that they were together. Better than great. The best part of his day so far.

“Tight pants.”

“What?” Hermione seemed unsure at the sudden topic shift. Harry even more so.

“Harry enjoys tight pants.” Ginny explained, “He’s always watching people if they’re in tight pants.”

“Oh.” Hermione grew quiet. “Then that’s why yesterday you...”

“Wore tight pants.” Ginny affirmed. “I wore them and I looked amazing. I even tied my hair back because of his whole nape thing.”

“His what?” Hermione asked, sounding vaguely horrified but mostly intrigued.

“His, you know, if his gaze is higher, he stares at...” Ginny seemed to be growing uncomfortable, Harry could hear her fidget. “...their nape. So I’m just saying! At least you know Ron – ”

“Don’t say it!” Hermione interrupted. “I heard enough of that word from Ron. It’s one thing to feel for someone but to shove those feelings in someone’s face and just expect, no, demand I repeat them just because. I refuse.” Harry took a step back at her vehemence. Was that why Ron was in a sour mood? Did he confess to Hermione? He couldn’t help eavesdropping now, what with Ginny saying... did he really stare at tight pants? Harry thought about it seriously and realized he had a varied list in his head of people he mysteriously thought had a good ass. But! Harry argued with himself, surely that was only because everyone usually wore robes. Who wouldn’t notice when the view was normally denied?

Curious about Ginny’s insight, Harry edged along the shelf so he could see Ginny through the books, but they were tightly packed (no one took any) he could just see through the small gap between book top and shelf. Ginny’s back was to him. He had no idea what sort of expression she wore. He wanted to hear me, know more about himself that he might not have consciously picked up on.

Ginny broke the silence, whispering even though she believed them to be alone. Harry edged closer, turning his ear to the crack and holding unto the shelf tightly in his effort to mold to it, but he wasn’t prepared for what she said next. “Do you think Harry could ever l – lo – love me?”

It was as though Harry had lost control of his body. Shocked and scared by Ginny’s words he jumped back, distancing himself from her instinctively. When the shelf came with Harry’s body he crouched into himself, trying to minimize the damage. It wasn’t until the books on the shelf clunked unto his body did he realize he hadn’t been crushed, but saved by the bookcase behind him.

He let go of the shelf he had been gripping the entire time. Ow.

“Are you okay?!” One of the girls said, but Harry’s heart was thumping wildly and he couldn’t place which of his friends had spoken.

“I’m fine – Hermione!” Ginny replied with a shocked start. “Wait – Do you see that?” A startled gasp. “Feet, I see feet. Someone’s under there!”

Harry heard fast approaching footsteps and wished he could just disappear as people started to talk around him. He could just picture the headline: Harry Potter Snoop Extraordinaire Nearly Defeated By Inanimate Bookshelf. “What happened?” Someone asked, followed by a chorus from the curious bystanders. When Harry heard Madam Pince’s voice he just wanted to wake up in bed and discover this day never happened.

“Alohamo...”

“Wait! Hold on Miss Granger! Assess the situation, then act.” A pause. “Are you conscious?” The Liberian asked.

Harry didn’t say anything; after all, if he wasn’t really there he wouldn’t be able to. He heard knocking on the side of the shelf. “I said ‘Are you conscious?’ ... Oh dear.” Another pause. “Maybe Dumble–”

“Yes! Yes.” Harry said. Because the situation was already horrible as it was.

“How do you feel? Is anything numb or in great pain.” Harry was about to reply when he heard a whisper, “You see, we have to make sure we won’t injure him more by moving the shelving, not that we couldn’t fix him up, but it’s a kindness not to injure the injured any further.”

Great, Harry thought while laying under his pile of books. Madam Pince knocked on his shelves again, trying to get Harry to answer but really just annoyed Harry. The only thing that could make this worse would be if...

“I bet I know who’s under there.” Said a distinctly familiar, if unwelcome, voice.

“Really?” Hermione replied, her tone less than jovial. “Based on anything or because you are stalki–”

“I wouldn’t continue that thought if I were you.” Said Malfoy. “But there’s only one person who makes Attention-Seeking an art.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The insistent knocking made it hard for Harry to overhear the conversation.

“Don’t be absurd. Why would Harry even be in the library?”

...at noon, Hermione, Harry completed her sentence in his head, at noon. I... I come to the library all of the... sometimes.

“Hmm... the better question would be, why is he under a pile of books right beside you and the she-Weasel? Look at her, her freckles look like pimples with her face so pale. She believes me.”

“You–!”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Yes, I’m fine!” Harry said loudly and immediately regretted it as the shelf was suddenly off of him, the books fluttering themselves into piles.

“Ha!”

“Harry!? Are you okay? What happened?” Hermione was beside him in an instant. “Your eye is black and you’re likely– ” she touches his arm and he winced, “heavily bruised.”

“You look well enough but can you move that arm?” Madam Pince grabbed Harry’s right arm and Harry, in what he hoped was a manly screech, couldn’t suppress the pain. ‘Don’t injure the injured’, yeah right! He glanced at Malfoy. No, no, he looked like Dobby receiving a sock; Harry’s cheeks began to burn. “...Maybe a sprain? Or just the bruising. I could fix you up but better to send you to Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry thought he just might be able to escape when she said, “Now, tell me how you managed to move one of my bookshelves which are spelled to stay in place.

Crap.
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Feasting on Rabbits