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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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Feasting on Rabbits

Under the Fur: part two

When Harry
woke he had been in a pretty good mood. When he opened his eyes that mood
seemed to have been part of a past life. He was immediately put on edge, it was
not lost on Harry that he had been enjoying a rather erotic dream until rank
breath woke him. Again the man was too close, Harry could see the
brownish discolouration of his teeth, something a little distance could have
prevented.

When
ordered to get dressed Harry had complied because he felt more than a little
need to have clothes covering his body and because of his dream Harry was
embarrassed, but concentrating on the funky smell of the river had been a
suitable distraction from the fact that Harry still hadn�t escaped his
�companion�.�

Enough time
had passed. No one had come to save him so Harry would save himself, which
wasn�t a far cry from the ordinary anyway. So when the brute ordered Harry to
follow, and had actually expected Harry to obey, what little acceptance of the
situation slipped away.

Harry
thought he had been tolerant � more than tolerant of Ron, Malfoy
and Snape. He thought he played the Hogwart�s Student well: going to each lesson, obeying
professors, doing his work to completion (or at least as much as he could)
while each year something new popped up to thrust him into extenuating
circumstances. It was true that he sometimes looked for that trouble but
then, only because the people who should have handled the situations �
hadn�t.

But this
was different. Harry hadn�t brought this upon himself. Harry had done nothing
to warrant being here, in this man�s company. He had tolerated Ron�s
attitude, Snape�s demands, Malfoy�s insistence. He had gone along, been a good
student, a good friend� had stuck to his detention to the last and this.
Here. This is where Harry ended up.

Harry
thought it cruel to wake from such a dream to this reality.

If Malfoy hadn�t stalled him about that
book... If Ron
hadn�t been such an ass Harry would have stayed in the room. If Harry hadn�t
tripped down that flight of stairs; hadn�t chased Ginny; hadn�t had detention
with Sprout (or better, the greenhouses were never broken)... If Madam Pomfrey would have just given Harry the tonic and if Snape didn�t make Harry stay after class and ergo interact
with the Slytherins and avoided Malfoy...
So many things� how many would have to play out differently just so Harry
wouldn�t be here?

He followed
along and this is where it got him. So no. He
was not going to follow this man who put that whole stinking day into
perspective. He refused. He was putting his foot down. What was the man going
to do? Hit him? Knock him around a bit? Harry doubted Voldie
would be pleased to receive Harry in less than perfect condition, wanting to
torture Harry himself. So Harry was putting his foot down and his fists up.

�I�m not
going anywhere with you." It was a challenge. A bet.
A statement.

The man
paused, an incredulous look on his face � and then he moved. Five
strides. Five horrendously long strides and he was towering
over Harry (who had thought his growing finely done).

�I think
there has been some confusion between us.� He said, horrible breath reminding
Harry of tainted water. Harry kept his fists raised, ready to knock away the
over-sized chest right in front of him despite not having the space to swing
with decent force.

�See. It�s
like this. When I told you that you are mine, that you belong to me� what I
meant was, very simply, every breath you take is now because of me.� He stared
into Harry�s eyes, and Harry stared back, challenging, waiting for the moment
to strike and thinking this was it � then the air was knocked from his lungs as
the man�s giant fist slammed into Harry�s solar plexus. Harry dropped to the
ground and curled up in the dirt.

�Every. Breath.� He barked.

Oh god,
that had been far worse than Dudley.

Harry
coughed and moaned and clutched at the earth and twigs. Ow.
It took him a moment to realize the man was still talking, that the rasping
sound was a voice and not the scratching of a headache.

��re
belongs to me. I�ll repeat it as many times as it takes, boy. You can run; I�ll
catch you. You can resist; I�ll break you. You can dream pathetic dreams; they
won�t come. I am all you have. And I own the air you breathe. �

He grabbed
Harry by the arm and hosted him up but Harry refused to stand, refused to
believe even as Harry couldn�t breathe for the gasping of air.

�Stand up!�

Harry tried
to drop back to the ground and felt his shoulders being squeezed as he was
roughly hoisted to his feet, squeezed and squeezed until Harry�s feet balanced
on the earth. �I order. You obey.�

�I don�t
think so.� Would have sounded much more daring if Harry
hadn�t been coughing while he talked.

�Ohh?� A fresh waft of foul breath.
�Did I ask fer your opinion? Did I say
: �What�s your thoughts on this, little bunny?� No.� He pushed Harry
forward, and pushed him again.

Harry tried
to veer, and when he realized they were leaving the clearing he tried to pick
up his clothes but was pushed away. �Keep moving.�

�I�m not
going anywhere with you.� Harry was standing solid again. Staring at a force he
couldn�t win against. Always staring into something he had no chance with. But
he was still standing, even now.

�You wanna die.� Said with such a flat voice Harry understood
the threat wasn�t empty. That this person was likely a Death
Eater, a murderer. H should dread safely, be weary, say
nothing that would�

�You can�t
kill me!� �entice the monster into action.

Harry felt
the ground slide away as he was hosted unto the man�s back. �I�ll take that as
a yes. Kill me. I dare you.�

�Wait!�
Harry struggled but the shoulder was firm and the arm pressing him against
flesh was strong. �W-What about my clothes.� The man
had stormed from the clearing and Harry watched as his small pile of belongings
disappeared in a pretty field of green. He kicked and struggled and squirmed
but he hadn�t been released.

�You�re wearin� a shirt ain�t ya.�

Harry
blinked. �But��

He slipped
Harry off his shoulder with ease, as if Harry had never struggled and held him
in place by his shoulders, pressing heated palms over still wet linen, then a
fearful smile spread across his face and Harry shivered. �Want to defy me
again, boy; want to see what else I�d do to ya?�

No. �What else can you do to me! You took away my wand! My friends! My
safety and clothes!� But Harry didn�t say it, the words held sour on his
tongue; instead he stared at this man with foul breath and grey hair and
clenched his fist. �Do your worst!� But he didn�t say that either. Harry turned
his back and walked ahead, the mans
hands fell away.

�maybe
someone would come across the clothes?

�

When Fenrir took the children he would bite, the children he
would rape, the children he would kill, he�d always made the choice beforehand,
This one�ll die,he�d
think and depending on the child Fenrir would either
tear bone from flesh or pummel bone to clinking bone. Did the parents owe him?
Or was the child a way to pass time? �

And there were
rules. Or habits. On how to handle
each case. Little games he played where only he could win. For instance,
if Fenrir wanted the brat to survive their little
escapade he would give them hope, something to cling
onto after he bit them and left them. If he was especially bored he�d take two
and pit them against each other, watch them try to push the other down so that
one could escape. Humanity was a joke.

Potter was
too old to play with. He knew better. Knew not to believe, to
hope, that Fenrir ever spoke true. Knew that being a good little boy meant only less bruises and
nothing else. But he also knew that Fenrir was
bigger, stronger, faster.

So why did
he defy and defy again? Because he knew better? Because of personality? Ignorance?

Was it
simply the little rabbit didn�t know he was the big, bad wolf? Fenrir had the day to interact with Harry Potter. He
thought it would be a chore. Keep the brat safe. Wait, just wait. Don�t let him
escape, keep him healthy� he�d been looking at their little escapade all wrong.
Potter was a big-boy. Would he run into a field of giant spiders? Likely not. Likely he�d see the webs coating the trees. Fenrir didn�t have to be responsible.

He could
have fun.

�

Despite the
sunlight Harry found himself shivering. His clothes were wet but his hair had
pretty much dried. Not that he was wearing many clothes, just his trousers and
a button-up shirt with no buttons. Not even shoes. What Harry would give to
have the opportunity to chase after those shoes even against that current! �A
horse, my kingdom for a horse,� Harry thought and amended, �shoes, my fame for
shoes.�

Step. Ow. Step. Intake
of breath. Step. Ow. Step.� On and on. Harry barely had a chance to see where they were
going, to make useless mental markings of the Forbidden Forest, for all the
need to watch each step and not step on something dangerous or unknown.

They walked
in silence, the big man a looming shadow at his back. If Harry took too long to
place a foot he was pushed forward once more and if Harry started a retort he
got pushed again and this time with a warning growl. So Harry kept moving
forward, biting his tongue.

Throughout
the morning the forest had seemed practically dead which was worrisome. Where
were the centaurs? Unicorns? Acomantula�s? Where were the
snakes? Harry was feeling like a snake would be completely awesome about now,
if for no other reason than to fetch help. Ron and Hermione seemed like ages
ago though Harry was acutely aware he had seen them just yesterday.

And so the
journey went. Push. Step. Ow.
Step. In-take of breath. Step. Until Harry had had enough.
He whirled around, not even knowing what he intended to do but was shocked by
what he saw.

Which was nothing.

The man had
been there just a moment ago, Harry was sure� he could still feel the spot on
his back where he�d been shoved, but now� nothing?

Harry
blinked once. Twice. Then veered from his route and
started running. Reminiscent of the first time the man and taunted Harry but
there were no whistles or cat-calls this time. No laughter or mockery. So Harry
ran.

He�d hear a
sound to his left, he�d veer right. He�d hear a sound to his right, he�d veer
again. A flock of birds would mysteriously burst from a tree, Harry would
change trajectory again, not willing to go near the tree. It could be a
creature. It could be the man.

Again, it
didn�t take long for Harry to run low on stamina with his legs. So he walked
fast, and then he just walked. Every footstep was a distraction; he was
constantly watching the ground, constantly watching his surroundings. Constantly jumping at the sound of the forerst.
Every rustle, every bird, every everything put Harry
on edge. He wanted to call out but didn�t dare.

He had been
interchanging his walking and running for an hour when he saw the tree line
break. At least he thought it had been an hour, but maybe two? The time was
measured in slow paranoia which drove Harry mad. He was best just reacting to
situations, not thinking about them. Not planning. Reacting.
When he saw the tree line he couldn�t help the �Yes!� that escaped him. The
little �woop� of excitement and the little jig that
entered his steps as he drew nearer and nearer, no longer
paying attention to his surroundings.

Almost
there, almost� Harry had a cramp but he would be damned before he let that slow
him. Four more steps� two� one�

Harry�s
mouth and eyes widened. It couldn�t be. He felt displaced. There, standing
before Harry in all its glory was Hogsmead.� Harry had stopped in startled awe but now the
forest behind him felt like barked claws, ready to swallow him again least he
move and move now. So Harry ran, his exhaustion gone. He was so close to home.

Close
enough now that he could hear the faint collective sound of people bustling and
buildings running. Then Harry was close enough he could �smell food wafting in the breeze.
Delicious, made him realize he was absolutely starving, that he hadn�t
eaten in over twenty-four hours.

He had no
money but if he went to the Three-Broomsticks he could talk them into feeding
him first and after he�d eaten he would return to Hogwarts and well, not him
because Dumbledore and McGonagall would detain him for his safety etc, etc, but someone would come
and pay off the tab and Harry really was starving. They should give him dessert
as a reward for not fainting up until this point. Really.

A hand
clamped around Harry�s mouth. Big and certainly not smelling anything like
delicious. Harry�s body was pressed against something solid and hard� he didn�t
need three guesses to figure out what or who.

�Miss me?�
Breath ghosted his ears and Harry had the distinct thought that if he had Godric�s sword right now he�d use it to stab this man. He
pulled Harry backwards and Harry watched in dismay as Hosmead
stood in front of him, he had gotten half the distance away from the forest and
rued that the town hadn�t been build right beside the dangerous forest.

�Did you
think you had escaped me?� The raspy whisper brushed against his ear. �Did you
actually think you would make it to the town without me catching you? You did, didn�t you?!� He let out a barking laugh and Harry struggled
more though in vain. �Do you want me to repeat the rules?� Harry glared, forced
to see Hogsmead as they walked backward to the forest., forced to move his head no because the hand was
still over his mouth. �You are mine.� It was only when the man didn�t say
anything else that Harry began to feel fear.

This was
not Voldemort who wanted to see Harry dead. This was
not a teacher with a grudge against Harry who could make life miserable (whilst
in that classroom) and nothing else. This wasn�t a spoiled brat jealous of
something so ridiculous as tainted un-earned fame.
This was a man who�d decided to claim Harry.

�Do you get
it?� Tickles of whisper. �Do you understand.�

They were
almost back into the forest. Almost back into that green
prison.

�Say it.�

The hand
loosened on Harry�s mouth but he didn�t open his lips.

�Say that
you belong to me.�

He was too
far to yell and be heard. Why hadn�t he at least picked up a stone to defend
himself with?

�Say it!�

The hand fall away.

�

Fenrir
held the boy at the edge of the forest. One step more and they�d return to Fenrir�s domain. There was something stubborn about Harry
Potter. As if the boy had lived and experienced many things
in his short life but Fenrir doubted that to be true.
Potter had lost his parents practically at birth, what was there to moan over?
Some greedy people would take him in and spoil the brat in order to gain his
favour when the babe was grown. He got accepted to Hogwarts likely before the
babe had even traded hands. Unlike werewolves the whole of Wizarding
Society loved and adored Harry Potter. It was an ironic sort of justice that
Potter was now his.

That he
didn�t say the words irritated Fenrir on the same
level that having a conscious Potter had in the clearing.

�Say it!�
He repeated; the last time he�d ask nicely. Fenrir
dragged the boy the last step and twirled him around so they were facing each
other. He felt the growl in his throat even before his lips twitched.

The eyes.
It was the eyes. They irritated the Were so. Defiant, impossible. The boy didn�t need to sneer; his eyes
conveyed the distaste all on their own. �I belong to no one.� His chin rose
defiantly and Fenrir sensed the lie.

�You do,
boy. Me.� No sense making the bunny think too hard on
where he�d choose to throw his own
with.

�I hate
your eyes.� That was the most ridiculous thing to come from Fenrir�s
mouth since he�d told the Dark Lord himself his opinion on being served
well-cooked steak. Fenrir now �enjoyed� a chewy meal
of fish whenever circumstances
required he meet with the Lord.

�I hate your
breath.�

Fenrir
mock laughed. �I hate that you�re magical.�

Potter�s
eyebrow rose in question but he didn�t break the game.

�I hate
your superiority.�

Fenrir
actually laughed. Look who was talking. �I hate your existence.�

�Oh that�s
funny,� Potter replied. �I hate yours too.�

�That is funny. You know what else?� Potter shook his
head. �This.� Fenrir clonked the brat on the head and waited for him to fall over.
Well, that was easy.

�

Harry woke
to the familiar-enough shoulder ride of one bulky man. �Shoo, get outta here, ya mangy creatures!� Harry lifted his head in time to see Thestrals scatter as he was roughly sidled one way and then
another, amazingly without falling.

Harry was
unprepared as his butt hit earth and his captive wrestled a bird from a decent
sized Thestral.

�You can
see them!� Harry said aloud and received a droll stare back. Of course I can. I�m a Death Eater.
Which Harry hadn�t actually verified but that he was rather sure of. �So how
come you don�t have Death Eater robes.

Another droll stare. A shrug. �I�m too big.� He replied whilst
shoving the Thestral�s head away as its neck twisted
one way then another as if trying to gauge the best angle to snatch the dead
bird with its beak.

�So you
admit it!�

�Uh. Yeah.� Obviously. He returned to Harry�s side and grabbed
him by the arm, escorting him down a trodden path.

�But you
don�t have the Dark Mark.� The man had, at some point since Harry had last seen
him, rolled up the sleeves of his gray shirt. No mark. Harry did a double take
and speculated the shirt was supposed to be white.

�Obviously.�

Harry
blinked. Why obviously?

One annoyed
glance at Harry had the man huffing, maybe even insulted. �He gave Harry a long stare, and then said,
�Who among the ranks of the Dark Lord are not
chosen to wear Dark Marks? As a whole.�

Harry was
going to suggest something about rank but the last bit had Harry thinking. He
didn�t know much about how the Death
Eaters chose members to be in their precious little murder club but he did
remember a conversation with Lupin.

�But you can�t be a spy Remus!�

�Well, I assure you I am. A thankless job
though it may be I am fully committed to helping you Harry, and the cause, in
whatever manner I can � and there aren�t many manors I own.�

Harry hadn�t laughed at the joke. �No, but� I
mean� you don�t have the Dark Mark. Even Snape has
one, so how do you get into the inner circle?�

Remus gave Harry that long stare, the one that
said Harry was smarter than needing to be told the answer. When Harry was
silent for too long Remus gave the solution. �Werewolves aren�t considered as
�human� Harry. We don�t have the same rights. Even Voldemort
considers us less than human and therefore less than worthy. I need no Dark
Mark to be a spy, and I don�t spy on anything like the inner circle, but
certainly something as fearful and cruel.�

Harry
looked to the sky, but couldn�t see the moon for the trees.� �Werewolf.� He said.

The man let
out a bark of a laugh. �Yes, werewolf. And what do you
think Were�s eat.�

Harry
looked at the dead bird and sincerely hoped the Were had been
talking about it� and not Harry.

�

�
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Feasting on Rabbits