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Our Ferret of the Flowers	By : SalonKitty Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 6849 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Our Ferret of the Flowers
- 2-Part II
- 1
- 2
It is hours later before he finally arises with a stretch. I’ve been stuck here almost all day; Master won’t let me leave Potter unguarded while he’s out doing whatever dealings he gets up to during the day. I think he’s been trying to talk a few of his Snatcher cronies into another one of his plans to wrest control away from the Dark Lord. He’s a tad ambitious, that one. The pack is still sleeping after their night of scavenging, so I’ve been mostly alone. Of course, they’d be up in a flash if they ever got one whiff of me trying to leave. They’re quite the security system.

My eyes bore into Potter’s back as I imagine setting him on fire, oh how those screams would touch my heart. But I’m curious, too. Potter is…different, no longer as easy to goad the way he was at school. I’d expected him to be falling apart the morning after, crippled with guilt and fear. I wonder what he’s been up to with his little resistance front. I’d heard stories at the manor, but with that Death eater crew it’s hard to know what’s true, and what’s merely fodder. They’re like a bunch of old gossiping biddies, really; Walden is the worst at it.

“Well, well, don’t you look lovely with a bit of beauty rest, Sunshine,” I mock when he turns my way. He blinks owlishly before yawning again, the blue and blackish hues on his face misshaping further in the stretch of his mouth. Potter looks much more attractive without those stupid specs; I’ve done him a favor by trashing them. But I wonder just how much he can see as he glances around the cavern again whilst scrunching his eyes.

“Where’s Greyback?” he croaks.

“Eager for another fuck, are we?”

I get the affronted glare again. “Eat shit, you fucking rapist. I need to see him to talk some sense into the man.” He scratches absentmindedly at his chest, but then we both hear his stomach growl loudly. “Right. I’m hungry.” He stares at me expectantly.

“And you were just mentioning eating shit. Would you like it served cold or steaming hot on a platter?” Potter is not amused.

I bark out a laugh, but then stand up in a satisfying stretch to my legs as I head out to get him some food. Master was very particular about Potter’s diet, and I return to him with a plate of cooked meat that is just slightly underdone. I step into his cage and put the plate on the floor, sliding it over to him so I don’t have to get too close. Potter grabs the slab of rare beef in his hands and proceeds to tear into it. I sit down and lean against the bars at the opposite end of him, watching him wolf down his meat like a starving man. I suppose he is; who knows how long it’s been since his last meal?

After he’s done licking his fingers and cleaning his face of every last spot of gristle and juice, he stares at me distrustfully, as though he’s just been reminded of my presence. I’ve filled a bowl of water for him and push it across to bump into his plate, the liquid sloshing over the sides. Potter gulps it down greedily, but when he’s emptied the bowl resumes watching me intently.

“So, how did Greyback find you?” I ask, more to start a conversation than anything. It’s quite boring in the caves when I’m not engaged in sex, and I’m strangely pleased to have someone I know to talk to.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m not telling you anything.”

“Oh, such a spoil sport. Would you prefer talking about getting bagged again? I can hardly wait to see what Master has planned for you next.”

“You’re a sick, deluded fucktard, Malfoy.”

“Such a mouth on you, Potter. And you’re just a prig. I’m sure your virginal sensibilities are positively reeling from such brutishness. You probably know sod all about sex, do you?”

Potter shoots me another disgusted glare. He really excels at those. “Get bent, arsehole. Right, because I’m really going to be in awe of your experience, Malfoy,” he digs. “You know less about me than I do you, so get over yourself.”

I laugh again, but this one is more to mask my unease. I don’t like Potter’s banter much.

“So, what’s this then? The Chosen One is not as pure as we thought? Do tell, Scarhead; I’m sure the details are fascinating. You and your ginger dunderhead get up to some mutual masturbation in your dorm room? Or, dear me, could it be the sister? The Weaselette not such a good girl, then?” I raise my eyebrows at him in feigned shock.

He scowls at me with a shake of his head. “Girls can like sex and still be good and decent, ferret. You probably wouldn’t know anything about that, though, would you, with the company you keep.”

But I ignore the slight and whoop instead at his unwitting reveal. “Ooh-hoo-hoo! Well, well, I’m impressed! You DID get in the Weasley girl’s knickers! And what’s more, she liked it! Does that mean she’s a whorey slag, Potter? Is she a screamer? Bet she moans like a proper tart when you give it to her deep, huh?”

Potter’s mouth is a tight, cinched line across his face and his eyes have gone to slits. “I’m not talking about her with you, so leave it off.”

“Oh, but this is so rich! I can just see it now, you shagging her good while she holds open her legs and cries out for you to do it harder. She’s got to be a vocal one in bed; the girl’s loud enough everywhere else. She’s got a mouth on her, too; the pair of you swear like seasoned Aurors.”

“Thought I’d get my training in early,” he deadpans as he moves to stand up. He’s naked, that partial bit of shirt and collar still around his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem too concerned with modesty. He crosses his arms across his chest and his chains rattle some more as they hang to the floor. “I’m going to have to take a piss. Where the hell am I supposed to take care of things in this place?”

I give him a wicked grin and then nod down at his feet. “You’ve got a bowl there. Use it.”

Potter’s expression and stance don’t change. “Are you going to give me any privacy?”

“Are you joking? What, you never used the loo with other blokes in attendance? Just how special are you?”

He holds the stare for another few beats before wordlessly kicking the bowl over a few spaces and turning his body sideways. Watching him grab his knob and direct it like a hose, only to see the stream of urine arc outwards and then land in the bowl with a tinkling splash, I feel a delicious thrill run up my spine making me shudder slightly. He’s so…cocky. When did he get so brazen?

When he’s done, he gives his willie a few shakes and then stares back at me, that bored challenge still in his face. “You going to clean me up, then? Give it a few licks? Maybe you’d like to lap up my bowl?”

“You keep acting like that and I’ll see to it that Master makes you drink it. And then he’ll use your mouth for a loo.” I give him my nastiest sneer when he shows no reaction. “Werewolves do that, you know. Just like a dog. Have to mark their territory. And you’re his territory now,” I add in an attempt to unsettle him.

“Sounds like you know all about it. Been into watersports long, Draco? Makes me wonder what warped sex games went on in the Slytherin common room, now.”

I’m getting tired of his remarks, they’re so trying.

“I’m sure it was a lot more interesting than what anyone got up to in Gryffindor tower. None of you have a whit of imagination; you’re all frightfully simple. And what the bloody hell do you mean by water sport?”

Potter’s face hints at a smirk as he shrugs his shoulders. “Guess it’s a Muggle term. It’s a sex thing, ferret, so, you know, I wouldn’t know anything about it, apparently,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes. I stare silently, though, still waiting for an explanation. He holds out a palm towards me. “Some people like to piss on each other during sex, that’s all it means. I thought that’s what you were getting at before.”

Now I’m the one that’s grimacing. “Merlin, I was just threatening you. You’re telling me some Muggles do that for fun? No wonder they’re inferior.”

He looks me up and down and huffs. “Yeah, and you’re the very model of a civilized and enlightened race. Nice fur coat, by the way. Did Master kill it for you?”

I almost want to leave. I would, if I hadn’t been instructed to stand guard. Potter can sit here and rot by himself, for all I care. But I decide instead to return to more intriguing topics.

“So who else have you shagged besides Ginny Weasley, then? There was talk that you’d had a threeway with the Patil sisters after the Yule Ball, but I never believed it. You wouldn’t have had the stones.”

Another huff. “Whatever, but no, I didn’t get up to anything with Parvati or Padma.” He pauses and goes to sit back down, fingers playing in the dirt. I’m about to taunt him with something else thinking he’s chosen to ignore the first question when he finally answers me in a shy, quiet voice. “It’s just been Gin and me.” He locks eyes with me and they’re brimming with another challenge. “What about you? Who’d you screw around with at Hogwarts?”

The question actually surprises me but I answer without thinking. “At Hogwarts? Not that many. Pansy and I fooled around a lot but it never got past oral sex. Same thing with Blaise Zabini, we’d just suck each other off. Come to think of it, I got a few girls in the younger years and that Creevey pouf to go down on me, too, but as far as doing the deed? It’s only been Daphne Greengrass and—” I shut my mouth abruptly, suddenly aware that I’m giving away an awful lot. Potter’s eyebrows flex upward.

“Well? And who?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. It was…a teacher, you see.”

Potter makes a wretched face, his tongue out like a lizard. “Ughhh, gross.” Then his expression turns to horror, eyes bulging. “Oh my God. Snape?” he asks incredulously.

“Ewwww, now who’s being gross? He’s practically my godfather, Potter! He’s not even good-looking!”

Potter appears relieved, though. “Well, still, whoever it was, that’s fucked up, Malfoy.” But then he’s eyeing me curiously. “Have you done it with other adults? Besides Greyback, I mean.”

But I don’t really want to answer that question, pushing from my mind the faces that suddenly loom forward of a few certain Death Eaters; the ones that had been aggressively interested.

“You know, in this situation, I’m the warden and you’re the prisoner, so I’ll ask the questions, alright? Does the Weaselette give a good blowjob?”

“It seems to me that you’re just as much of a prisoner. We could help each other, you know. Care to explain why you haven’t tried to escape yet?”

“Who says I haven’t tried? But I am rather fond of this body and I’m not so eager to have it ripped into shreds and eaten, if you must know. Now, you were about to illuminate me on the Weaselette’s cock sucking abilities? Although, they couldn’t possibly be anywhere near as good as mine. I don’t think she’d really have it in her to do a bang-up job.”

Potter’s laugh is bitter. “You’re going to attempt to compare what you did to me to what I do with my girlfriend? Are you fucking mental?”

I give him an arrogant smile as I shrug lopsidedly. “Well, you can’t avoid the fact that I did make you come, Potter. With quite a large dick up your bum, I might add. Don’t think it’s much of a rape when you get off on what’s happening to you.”

His skin burns bright red—not just his face, but even down to the tops of his shoulders and his chest. I feel the control slip back over to me. “Fuck you. You manipulated my body, I had no control over that,” he accuses. I expect more of a tirade, but then he’s contemplating something again as he watches me. His whole demeanor changes when he continues, his back straightening as he sits a bit taller and tries to look imposing. “And to be totally honest? Ginny gives a way better blowjob. Plus, she knows how to play with my balls just the way I like. She’s got a lighter touch that makes all the difference, really. You might want to learn to employ a bit of artistry in your technique, there, Draco.”

I grind my teeth together, keeping my mouth shut tight painfully. I refuse to be baited. He’ll have to bow to me eventually, once Master works him over some more. Still….

“There’s no way that little bint knows anything about artistry. I’m exceptionally good at that, everyone that’s ever gotten a demonstration has told me so. But it’s all about fitting the mood, Potter. You wouldn’t have been able to notice any nuance last night, anyway, not with Master’s hammering.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you’re usually much better than that?”

“Of course I am,” I spit out.

“Care to try again, then?”

I’m dumbfounded for the moment, not sure how I’m supposed to answer. Then Potter does something that sets off tiny shockwaves under my skin and into my brain. He leans back on his hands, arms behind him, before putting his knees up and sliding his feet outward, like an opening of the gates. The invitation is unmistakable.

I debate whether I should take this moment to humiliate him or grant him his request. This is so completely unexpected. But then I’m moving up on all fours and slowly crawling to him, my eyes fixed steadily on that fantastic cock as Potter begins to stroke it for me.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“Yes, move like that, brat. Fuck him without mercy, the pup can take it.”

Potter’s rodgering me senseless, he’s got me pinned underneath him while Master takes him from behind. The git keeps making these grunting noises that are sexy as hell and I’m coasting on the sensation of his hard chest and stomach pressed to my back, his hand at my waist in a death grip while an arm crosses my chest to claw at my shoulder possessively. Another grunt, sounding more like an animal this time, as he starts to fuck me a little faster.

It’s been a week of this. Every night since he got here we’ve been at it, and each night Potter’s gotten more impressive in my eyes. Then there’s the things we get up to during the day when it’s just him and me in his cell. The Weaselette was one lucky bitch, I accede; Golden Boy is a pretty bossy lover.

We’re in the house, in the bedroom, and Potter’s been chained up to the posts on the headboard. Master has been bringing us here the last few times, when he’s ready for sex. I much prefer it in here. I love it when Master makes a show of pampering me before the pack. No one else ever gets to sleep with him in here.

But none of those thoughts concern me when I feel Potter lick the back of my neck. His teeth clamp down to nuzzle it, without breaking the skin. I shudder deeply and then watch the ropes of sperm arch across the pillow.

“What’s happened to your endurance, pup?” I hear Master ask gruffly, a faint disappointment wrapped in his amusement. “We’ll have to get you worked up, again.”

Another shiver settles into my flesh as I imagine what that’ll entail, but I don’t get to think on it long before I feel Potter being dragged away, his cock slipping out of my arse. A big hand wraps around my neck where Potter’s mouth was a moment ago and I’m being pulled aside as I watch the boy being flattened to the bed on his back.

“See, this one’s still eager for more buggering. Get back on, child.”

I get to study Potter’s face as I spread my arse over his knob and push back against his hardness, making my descent as slow as I can stand it. He’s breathing heavily and his hair is all sweaty again, but he watches me just as carefully, his mouth opening in pleasure once my bum presses against his pelvis. His bollocks are squished under me as I sit up straighter, ready to let him impale me deeper as I start to move, my palms flat to his belly to steady me. I’m so aroused that I can feel another burgeoning erection already, but when Potter reaches out to grab hold of it, his chains only just giving him enough slack, I moan so long that I worry what Master will think. But then those crushing hands are on my waist and he’s helping me bounce on Potter’s dick while the boy gives me a good wank. I’m in absolute heaven, my eyes closed as another moan snakes between my lips.

When Master starts to bend me forward and fiddle with my arse cheeks, my moans slide down two octaves. I know what he’s about to do, but I see a look of shock on Potter’s face when he feels Master’s cock bump against his own. Master’s hand strokes along my spine to relax me before he’s reaching down again to spread my arse cheeks a bit wider. The pressure is insurmountable at first, but then he’s made it in and I can feel that maddening slide as two cocks fill me up. I scream out my excitement and then Master’s hands are slipping under my legs and lifting them up under the knees. Potter looks down and I gasp as I picture what he’s able to see, the two steely columns driving into me so obscenely while Master holds me up, sending me into such glorious bliss. I feel known; seen, finally, as though these two were the only ones to ever notice the real Draco Malfoy and the attention he needs…craves. I’m completely filled with their knowing, right now, and I don’t want it to end.

“That’s a good little slut,” Master tells me and I hear Potter sound another grunt.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“What do you mean he can smell you leave? That’s absurd; do you realize how paranoid you’re sounding?”

“It’s bloody true, Potter! You took the same damn lessons on werewolves that I did, surely you remember that part about their heightened olfactory senses? Master told me he could catch my scent up to a kilometer away! I’ve seen how it works! I’ll never be free of him! Even if I could sneak us out of here, he’ll kill me as soon he finds me!”

Potter gives a low growl as he paces the floor. He’s been doing that a lot, lately, and I’m acutely aware that the full moon is on its way, in less than a fortnight. All of his movements seem to have gained a predatory weight now, like he’s ready to jump on us at any second. I’m sure to have Master double check his restraints every time he brings him back here and I’ve limited my time inside his cell to sexual encounters and bringing him food. I haven’t seen Zevon return yet, but a few of the pups have come in to inspect our special prisoner. Potter says nothing when they try to engage him, but his eyes never leave them as they walk around his cage in awe. Although, he did leap at Francis quite fiercely when the boy asked if he could see his scar, it was a good thing there were bars between them.

“I don’t think it’s as far reaching as he lets on, are you going to believe everything that he tells you? He can’t even track down Bill, and Fenrir actually attacked him with his claws. All he does is fuck you. What, is he going to sniff his way to your bunghole seeing as it’s had so much of his jizz up there?”

“Oh, now; see, that’s just crass, Potter. You can tell you grew up with Muggles, your manners are abominable.”

His laugh is nasty, no trace of joy in it. “You’re worried about my manners, are you? That’s very funny. I’ll have to think about maintaining decorum the next time you’ve got that mouth of yours wrapped around my cock and sucking it like your very life depended on it.”

His rudeness annoys me, but I’m partially turned on by it, too. I’ve come to quite enjoy sucking Potter off, truth be told. His moans and little noises are so gorgeous to listen to. And he’s not as punishing as Master, although he’s definitely demanding. The first time I heard Potter coax me on during sex with his dirty talk I almost swooned. Merlin, the suggestions coming out of his mouth! I came like a rocket.

“Will you stop pacing back and forth like that? You’re driving me spare. I’m telling you, your best chance at getting away will be during your change. Master is biding his time with the Dark Lord on purpose, I’m convinced he wants to use you like some kind of weapon. And he’s going to keep you here until he sees your transformation for himself.”

Potter doesn’t break his stride but glares at me as he switches directions and heads towards me where I stand behind the cage door. His chains stop him with a defining clink but I’ve already taken a step back. He’s a bit scary like this, and completely unpredictable.

“I have to get out of here before that happens, Draco! No telling what will happen once I’m…like that. I don’t want to kill anybody! Greyback is already…preparing me.” He sounds frantic, but those burning green eyes bore into me so intensely showing the faintest trace of fear. I wonder for a moment if Potter ever learned Legilimens the way he’s watching me. I haven’t had to Occlude my mind in so long I’ve almost forgotten what to do.

But he’s right in that Master is getting him ready for his first kill. Potter’s meals have become decidedly more rare in the last several days. I couldn’t even watch him eat the first time Master served him the strips right off a deer’s carcass, seeing the blood smeared on the boy’s cheeks as he struggled to get the meat down. Of course, by the third night, he was back to licking his plate clean after I’d brought him his foul nourishment.

“I won’t be able to see what goes down; I’ll be locked up in the bedroom of the house. But I’ve seen Master…as the wolf. There’s…some intelligence there. Maybe you’ll have some cognizance of your own mind, not just some blind killing machine. The younger ones in the pack don’t seem to remember anything when they’re turned, but the older ones…they’ve implied that they can still have their own thoughts.”

“Right, but that won’t do me a lot of good if I don’t give a shit, will it? I already feel like I’m losing myself, Draco. You need to grow some balls and let me out of here! Fine, don’t go with me, but all you have to do is get me out of these chains and I’ll worry about the rest!”

“Are you daft? As if Master won’t mind that I let you go? I’ll be dead within seconds after he sees your empty cell. It has nothing to do with bollocks and everything to do with common sense!”

“Oh, you keep telling yourself that, bitch. Hiding behind your practicality and fear, are we? Where’s your sense of outrage? Why aren’t you fighting back? I think you just enjoy it here, to be honest. Your addiction to cock is sated rather well in this setting, isn’t it? Fucking whore.”

“Shut up! You have no idea what I’ve been through, even before Master kidnapped me. Were you under the impression that my life was just a laugh back at home? Because it wasn’t. It was a bloody nightmare. I watched my mother die right in front of me, you prick! At least—”

I abruptly shut my mouth at what I’m about to say. He wouldn’t understand.

But his eyes soften just the slightest bit, but his mouth is still a hard line before he opens it to speak. “At least what, Draco?” he prods softly.

I look away from him as I hold on to the bars. I must be starved for his companionship to consider sharing so much, but the feeling of normalcy and home that he brings with him—home like it used to be before everything turned to shit—comforts me in the way that it reminds me of the old Draco. I wonder, just briefly, what would happen if I did free him and he managed to get us clear of this place? Would his precious Order be able to protect me? More importantly, would he let me stay with him?

“You don’t get it. Master—Greyback takes care of me. I feel protected around him. He’s a brute and a monster, yes, but he…feels affection for me, so I know he won’t let anyone hurt me. It’s a symbiotic relationship. I give him what he wants and he gives me security.”

Potter sigh signals his contempt and I cringe a bit inside. He’s been given a pair of trousers to wear lately, and while his eyes stay locked to mine I watch his hands trail to his crotch to unzip them.

“You really are quite the pussy, Draco. If it’s security you need, you’re shit out of luck. There’s no such thing in this war.” He drops his trousers and steps out of them while I eye his blooming erection hungrily.

“Now why don’t you come in here and do what you do best, hmm?”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The full moon is only days away now. Master can’t even get close enough to Potter to fuck him, it’s like the boy’s gone feral. He snarls and bares his teeth to everyone that walks in the room, but they keep coming anyway, their shared excitement to witness his change threading through the pack. Potter is pretty powerful in his own right, and his power seems to be growing.

The morning I arrive to give him some breakfast, Potter is lying in the corner with his back and head against the rock, eyes closed. I let myself in quietly and tiptoe mid-way to leave him his plate when he’s suddenly springing on me. I cry out as I’m thrown back, startled to hell by his attack and then Potter’s full weight is on me, straddling my pelvis as he sits up. Panic seizes me when I see that one of his wrists is no longer cuffed with its metal bracelet, the chain is still back in its corner. The flesh there is abraded and bloody, but I’m more aghast at how he was able to break it free. And yet his other hand, thankfully, is still locked to its tether.

“Wha—! How did you…get off me!” I shout, but I’ve already felt his hard-on pressed into my abdomen.

“It’s like magic, isn’t it?” he taunts, grinning like a devil, and my eyes widen in horror. Wandless magic? When did this happen?

“You couldn’t do that before. What happened, how did you do that?”

His leer is at once terrifying and arousing. “I’m not sure, but it’s an interesting development, don’t you think? I’m getting stronger, too; I can feel it.”

I don’t know what to say, my mind in stasis as I simply gape up at him. But then suddenly I feel something tighten in my chest and there’s a flutter near my heart. I haven’t experienced it in a while, but I feel…hopeful, and my gaze rushes over the Boy Wonder as the possibilities for ending this little run flood me.

“Are you going to…what are you going to do?” My whisper is strained in my looming excitement, yet the idea of freedom has quickly infused all of my thoughts like ink seeping into paper. “Can you—can you take me with you? To the Order, I mean. Mum told me about it.” I wonder if there’s a way for them to let Father know I’m all right.

“Not going to the Order. Well, at least not straight away. I’ve got some stuff to take care of first.” He leans his head all the way down as he flattens his hands against my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, but when he starts to sniff at me, poke his nose into the ticklish part of my neck, I grow wild-eyed again. Potter is downright unstable; his behaviour isn’t even following the rest of the pack in their pre-release mode. I’m used to their and Master’s aggressiveness in accordance with the lunar cycle, but I don’t know what to make of this extra magical ability.

“What kind of stuff? Where are you going, then?” I question, still keeping my voice low, but now Potter’s licking the hollow in my neck and attempting to dry hump me. I tilt my head just barely to give him freer access, even though his sniffing is freaking me out, and when he thrusts his pelvis rather hard against me my legs fall open enough to let him settle between them. His answers are murmured into my skin.

“I have a few people to visit,” he hisses darkly. “And I have to find her. Take her with me.” His sweeping tongue has progressed to my chest, but I freeze upon hearing the pronoun.

“Her? You’re not—surely, you’re not talking about the Weasley girl?” Something ignites inside me and its soon spreading along my nerves.

“I have to. Need to get her. She’s mine.”

It doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest that he’s talking about his girlfriend while he’s laying me bare, his freed hand stroking my knob while he nips and licks at my nipple, but I feel a bit sick now, instinctively pushing at his torso to get him off of me.

“You’re an idiot, Potter. You think she’s going to be happy to see you when she finds out what you’ve become? A week ago you were moaning about how you were never going to see her again; you couldn’t risk being near her in your condition. What changed all that?” But I know already what it is.

“She’s my mate. She belongs to me and I’m going to get her. We’ll learn together. Remus will help us.”

The last part I hadn’t expected, however, and my face scrunches in consternation. “What? You’re not going to…attack the girl, are you? You want to release her? Have you gone mad, Potter?”

Potter’s head shoots up and he looks me dead in the eye, a crazy gleam glinting in that brilliant green. “On the contrary, everything has become very clear. Simpler. I know what I need to do.” He slaps a hand to my chest and his face drops closer, till our noses almost touch. “Now why don’t you stop asking questions and roll over, ferret.”

“And what if I don’t want to?”

“That’s not really an option.” But then he smiles down at me with a sneaky, mischievous grin that looks completely charismatic on him. “Besides, don’t you want me to take care of you?”

I do. Merlin, help me, but I do.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

The children are driving me batty this afternoon. It’s tonight; the moon is coming, and they’re acting like they’re on a sugar rush, howling and yelling while bounding through the caves. I almost trip over the youngest—Eric’s about eleven—as he’s already resorted to leaping around on all fours, his blond hair flopping and settling atop his head with every jump like golden wheat dropping from the scythe. I’m want to scream at them, but I never do; they’re quite aggressive in this state. Still, I’d almost rather deal with them than go and tend to Potter. That one was panting the last time I’d checked on him, his tongue lolling out as he sat on his haunches, clawing at the dirt absentmindedly. But I’ll have to go back down eventually. Master won’t let me feed him today, says he wants him hungry, but I’ll have to bring him some water soon. He’s been drinking up an ocean these last few days.

And I also need to talk to him about how he intends to follow through on his plan while under the influence of his lycanthropy.

He seems to be convinced that he’s got it all figured out. I always knew Potter was arrogant, ever since he snubbed me in first year by refusing my hand of friendship, but his overconfidence is just stupid in light of all that’s against him. Master will be watching him like a…well, like a wolf, he’s quite keen that way, and he’s not about to let his star, and consequently his hold over Voldemort, disappear through the forest like the last wisps of a Patronus. And I’ll be stashed away in the cottage, so I won’t be able to help any. Not that I would offer; I’m not about to be the odd man out in a cave full of werewolves going out for the hunt. But if he does somehow manage to break away, he’s promised that he’ll come back as soon as he’s got back-up and a wand, and I keep that thought echoing in my thoughts. I wonder what it will be like to not have to bow to Greyback anymore, to be my own man again. I worry whether that’s even possible.

Soon, the constant fretting over Potter has me wanting to see what he’s up to. I have no idea what to expect when I descend to the lower cave, but as I step into the space before his cell I am confronted with the picture of Potter on his back in the middle of the floor, legs spread wide and raised on his feet while his grip surrounds his cock and wanks it hard enough to rip off. He’s making all manner of noise between his growling and whimpers and deep groans, this cacophony of his desire flooding my ears and shooting straight to my groin. The top of his head is towards me, so he can’t see I’m here, but it’s not more than a few seconds before he’s sniffing the air and then flings his body over to look back at me.

“Good, you’re back. Get in here.”

Both of Potter’s wrists were restrained again the last time I left him, but I’m not about to get close enough to the cage bars to see if he’s managed to loosen himself from them this time. That intense look of his stops me in my tracks. It’s funny to suggest he looks wolfish, but he does, a perfect incarnation of the animal’s cunning and instinct stamped into his features, with a healthy dose of lust suffusing his face. I don’t kid myself that he’s desiring me, he just wants a fuck.

“No. Fenrir doesn’t want me to go near you today. Says you need to save it up for later.”

“Dra-aco-o-o,” he sounds out with a lilt, “You don’t need to listen to him. I can be your Master from now on. I want you. In here.” He rises up to his knees. “Now.”

I just scowl at him, not about to do what he says. “What about your precious Weaselette? Your so-called mate?” I remind him. “Thought you were off to play Master to her?”

“Yeah, so. Look at Greyback, he’s got a brood catering to him. You think I can’t handle you both?”

“Well, one step at a time, Potter, you have to get out of here, first.”

“Not a problem,” he tells me in that sure tone of his that causes me to shake my head in bemusement every time I hear it. Idiot Gryffindor. Why do I think he’s more likely to get himself killed?

XXXXXXXXXXXX

By the time Master has me locked me in his room, the whole cave is resounding with howls, Potter’s being the loudest. He’s making quite a racket down there and I think it’s only served to amp up the rest of the pack. They’re positively giddy. And Greyback was looking so bloody satisfied with himself that I want to scream. He really thinks he’s always going to be the alpha around here. I’m annoyed that he hasn’t even entertained the idea that Potter might turn out stronger than him.

I sit on the bed and wait, my nerves singing and nowhere close to quieting down. There are a million scenarios running through my head at any given moment, all the things that might happen if Potter manages to retain part of his conscious self and act on it. Should I even trust him? Will he really come back and take me away from here, and if he does, will I stay with him and his silly bint? I sort of want to but I’m afraid to admit it out loud. I’d like to see my father again. I realize I can’t stay here forever, waiting to be turned or eaten. Potter’s a hero, I remind myself; he’ll have to help me if only because it’s in his nature.

I worry my bottom lip. Then again, Potter’s nature has changed a bit, hasn’t it?

There are no windows in here, but I can sense the darkness like a cloak has settled over me. The howlings were faint when I first got in here, but now I hear them in full force, even all the way at my end. Part of me wishes I could see Harry change. Wait. Harry? I mean, Potter. I wonder what Potter will look like in his werewolf state. A gleaming sable coat, to be sure, just like that hair of his. I get a vivid picture in my head and it’s beautiful.

There’s a sudden sharp cry ringing out and my head whips in the direction of the door. That was definitely an animal in pain. I know how it hurts them when their bodies go through the transformation, but I’ve never heard them scream like that before in the midst of it. I stand up and hesitantly walk to the door to get close enough to make out more sounds. My ear is to the wood but then I rear back instantly when I hear a horrific roar. There’s another loud yelp followed by a multitude of barking booming through the passageways. This doesn’t sound good at all. Could something have gone wrong with Harry’s transformation? Might they all have attacked him in their bloodlust? I have no idea what to think and there’s an ache in my limbs where I’ve been gripping myself so tight that my nerves have pulled as taut as wire.

And then there’s the most blood-curdling scream. It’s coming from a spot that sounds an awful lot closer than the barking moments ago. I can practically feel my skin blanch, the blood draining from my face as I back up so quickly I fall on my arse. What the bloody hell is happening out there? I’m reminded that Greyback has the key kept in a safe place while he’s a werewolf; he usually gets it the morning after when he’s back to his human self and lets me out. I have no way of making a run for it if something has gone terribly wrong. Not unless they break down the door. But that won’t happen, I assure myself. It’s never happened. Master reinforced the wood himself; even his strength couldn’t rip it off its hinges. And I don’t really want to be out there on my own, anyway. It’s much safer in here.

Another long howl, then another, followed by two more, and when I hear the last one it is cut short. I’m thinking about crawling under the covers when I hear the running in the house. My arms instinctively wrap around the tops of my shoulders and now I’m out and out panicking. The cave exits right into the cellar and then there’s a flight of stairs leading into the kitchen, they must have found a way to open the cellar door. The growls and threatening barks are so near. I hear the scratches of claws on wood floors, and then a deep rumble that seems to permeate the entire cottage. A body slams into a wall, just down from my door and I’m instantly on my feet again, my gaze tearing around the room as I look for a hiding place, or a weapon. But there’s not much in here besides a bed. Master is not exactly known for cultivating refinement.

I don’t have time to dwell on what I’m going to do, though, when in the next second I hear a wrenching whine and then there’s a slam to the floor. Those deep growls carry on for long stretches and then there’s another sharp yelp. When there is quiet for the briefest moment I start to move again, ready to crawl under the bed as I fall to all fours, but then I hear something ripping and I freeze. I’m ready to piss myself as the unmistakable sound of an animal feeding reaches my ears. More ripping sounds. I can’t move. I can barely breathe and I only just notice how violently I’m shaking when I grab hold of my wrist and press it to my chest.

The door is locked. It’s too thick for them to get in. I keep repeating it to myself as the eating goes on outside my door. It seems the body has been dragged a ways. I’ve climbed on the bed and pulled my knees up, my arms curving around them tightly as I rock on the mattress. The door is locked. It’s too thick for them to get in.

I watch the door as quiet looms again, every nerve in my body in stark attention. Then there’s a faint sound. Like…sniffing. My eyes are locked on the doorknob as I’m rocking my body back and forth, my brain insisting that I do something but the rest of me shutting down. And as I stare at the brass knob….it turns. A clean click and then it slowly opens into the room. I can’t even think anymore, too stunned to do anything but gawk in utter terror. Nails tap on the floor and then a long black nose is peering around the open door, something nude and pink poking out along with it.

The wolf walks in and I’m staring into those same green eyes. It’s uncanny. There’s even a white lightning bolt shape over its eyes emblazoned into that glossy black fur. Potter looks like he’s grinning, those sharp and bloodied teeth sunk into the human arm that hangs from his mouth. It’s a big arm, quite meaty. I glance down at the hand stretched to the floor and I’m staring at it’s palm, that palm that used to pet the top of my head, stroke my chest, and even pat my cheek once in a while. There’s not a lot of blood on it until you get to the top, near the bicep, where Potter still holds it tight until he pads closer to the bed, watching me the whole time.

He’s close enough now that I could reach out and pet him. I look for him in those eyes, look for some sign of recognition.

“Harry?” I whisper faintly, my voice barely there.

He drops the arm on the floor near the bed and looks at me, mouth grinning and covered in blood and viscera. The arm lays there like an offering and I wonder what I’m supposed to do with it.

“Harry? It’s me. Draco.” I’m a bit louder this time, but I haven’t moved at all since he’s gotten into the room. I wonder if the fact that he can apply his magic means he’s aware of his identity, that he might realize he’s a wizard under that coat.

The low growl he makes the hair on my neck stand on end. He’s not looking so friendly anymore; the grin has gone. A long tongue snaps out to lick at his chops and he’s baring his teeth at me.

“Harry. You h-h-a-ave to be—be in there. I’m a friend. You—you know me.”

He growls even louder, and I imagine that he’s objecting to the friend part. I can see the door in my periphery, but it’s so far away. There’s nothing I can even throw at him to distract him as I make a run for it. I plead again, it’s my last hope.

“Master. I’m yours.”

I wonder how Potter will take that but then he jumps me, the huge weight of him almost suffocating me if it weren’t for those razor teeth embedding themselves into my neck. I go still even as my fear crushes me, trying to offer up my servility while the will to live pumps through me. The memory of him licking the back of my neck during sex is suddenly there, how it had thrilled me to feel his power dip down and touch me. But there’s no licking now. His jaw crushes my bones. I try to scream but I don’t think I have any vocal chords left. I no longer feel any sensation. My sight starts to fade, but I see the green, it’s the very last thing, those green eyes burning through me.

Harry Fucking Potter.

Happy Halloween! Hope you enjoyed it! There might be a sequel to this told from Ginny's point-of-view.
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Our Ferret of the Flowers