Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Savage Seduction	By : mad4moony Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Fenrir Views: 30148 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money from this. :(

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Savage Seduction

5

Show me what it's like,

To be the last one standing.

And teach me wrong from right,

And I'll show you what I can be.

Say it for me,

Say it to me,

And I'll leave this life behind me.

Say it if it's worth saving me.

****

Then she heard it, a howl. Shivers ran up her spine, as she heard another. Walking to the window she saw a figure outside. It was dark now, and the werewolf was on his knees looking up at the sky. It was too dark to see his face. He bayed again, throwing his head back, the witch was perplexed - He could do it so well in human form. Curious, she lifted up the window slightly putting it on its latch and spread out her arms on the sill, and let her head rest on them. He let out another howl, and a knot tightened in her chest. He was unhappy. The witch didn’t exactly know how she could tell, howls all sounded the same pretty much but she just knew. They were long and wistful, trailing off at the end, and the way his head hung as he finished... As he did it again she listened closing her eyes, did she pity him? Was that what this feeling was?

Suddenly he turned around to get up and caught sight of her, she jumped and the window banged shut: centimetres away from her fingers. Hermione looked down; he was making his way across the garden towards the house. Suddenly a panicky feeling arose in her, and she crept up on the bed, near the pillows holding her knees. Within moments she could hear his heavy footfalls on the stairs. The werewolf opened the door and stepped in, there was silence for awhile. He had his coat on and a shirt this time too, she gritted her teeth; she was freezing in just a shirt. As if he had sensed it, he began to light the fire.

Hermione watched him from the bed, his back was turned. She could hear the crackle of a fire beginning. When he was satisfied with it, he got up and approached her. Neither wanted to speak. The werewolf took from his pocket, two apples and rolled them along the bed in front of Hermione. She picked them up and thanked him out of politeness, only then did he sit down. She polished one on her shirt, his shirt rather, and took a bite. She was famished.

“Have you finished beating me up?” he growled, but his tone was not entirely aggressive. His face was slightly bruised, and his lip was cut. She nodded, for now at least she was.

“I won’t forgive you for what you did. I know you don’t feel remorse.”

“Why would I feel remorse?” He snarled. Standing up immediately, he turned away, his fists clenched.

“Because what you did was despicable, only a beast would do something like that,” she uttered. He turned to face her and gritted his teeth.

“I was taking what is mine; you were my prize for bagging Potter. And I didn’t like it when you ran away.” Hermione let her apple drop on the floor, and she stood up, face-to-face. Or rather face-to-chest as he was tall and she was not. He couldn’t seriously mean that?

“You can’t just claim me like an object,” she fumed. “In any case, prizes aren’t given to dishonest people, you have to earn them,” said the witch venomously.

“I can do that,” Fenrir smirked, and suddenly moved towards her. Before Hermione could get away their lips met. He was a rough kisser, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Merlin knows why...Probably just instinctual lust, or the fact he had his hands gripped around her already. Eventually she pulled back and sat on the bed, looking rather shocked and wide-eyed – as if she had poked a fork into an electrical socket. He frowned slightly and went to stoke the fire, perhaps it was best to pretend that never happened.

Hermione pulled her legs up and sat cross legged on the bed. She thought to herself for a few minutes in silence before speaking again. Fenrir had now thrown his coat over the end of the bed and was sitting on the window seat beside the fire. “Fenrir, do you even know my name?” She spoke inquisitively, as if what had happened had not just happened.

Without looking away from the window he spoke, “Yes I do Hermione.”

She felt an odd squirmy feeling in her gut. It sounded so strange coming from him. And that kiss. It had been so...weird. It’s not that it was bad, but she felt like maybe he didn’t really kiss often, he was rough and dominant. She sighed and thought back to the night he attacked her. He had been in wolf form, it made her shudder. But it hadn’t been a full moon, and then she realised... “Are you...I mean. Were you born a werewolf?”

Fenrir nodded, and Hermione opened her mouth to speak. But he stopped her; he knew what she would ask. “My father was the wolf, my mother was a witch.”

“Do you still see him?” Hermione almost whispered. She wondered how strange it would be to be a werewolf and to have a werewolf brother and father and maybe a werewolf sister. She guessed it would be better than being alone.

He shook his head again, “No, I killed him.” Hermione went quiet. He wasn’t very good at conversations either. They sat in another awkward silence, and she contemplated silently, about his kiss. In the end she felt a little like gagging again, how dare she allow herself to like something like that! It was disgusting.

After what seemed like a while the witch decided she would like to sleep, but was wary of sleeping with him in the room. Although, what more could he possibly do to break her spirit? The witch pulled back the covers of the bed and snuggled down into them, wrapping them around her. She really wished she had more than just a shirt to wear, since she didn’t want to have to sleep in it and wear it again.

He sat for awhile staring out the window, and she grew bored. He may be her captor, but he could at least give her something to do, or talk to her or something. Ack, she thought. The shirt was twisting around her, every time she turned, there was no way she could sleep in it. She pulled it off over her head, but kept the covers up so he would not see. The tiny witch yawned. “Don’t you have your own room?” She inquired; as she saw his eyes close once or twice.

“You’re in it,” he rasped. Hermione blushed and slunk down into the covers.

“Well, er, you’re quite welcome to it then,” she said shuffling from the middle of the bed to the side. He didn’t stir. But she felt herself slipping away into sleep already; she couldn’t keep her guard up much longer.

****

When she woke she found Fenrir asleep on the rug by the fireplace. He looked like a cute puppy that kept twitching. She was starting to feel more comfortable around him, on her guard still but more at ease at least, but only really when he was still or asleep. Anytime he moved it panicked her, his movements were too quick, and his temper too violent.

After observing him for another while the young witch tip-toed over to the bathroom and closed the door to have a shower. She let the hot water wash away all her worries. When she stepped out she dried herself with a towel. She really wanted some clothes to wear but wandless magic wasn’t her forte, instead she managed to dry some of her hair magically. But without her wand it wouldn’t look perfect. Suddenly her stomach rumbled uncontrollably and she felt like gagging she was so hungry. She left the bathroom and glanced over at her sleeping captor.

“Fenrir,” she whispered, prodding his arm, noticing how taught his muscles were. Another sharp jab to the side and he snarled, showing a pointed canine. She recoiled slightly. He opened his eyes lazily and then his pupils dilated as he saw how close the witch was to his face.

“Argh, what?” He sat up, rubbing his face.

“Fenrir I really need some clothes,” Hermione paused, “And I need to get proper food”

Fenrir growled, and stalked out of the bedroom. Great, Hermione thought, where the hell is he off to? She sat beside the fire hoping it would dry out her hair. He was back within 10 minutes fortunately, clutching an orange bundle. “My clothes,” she rejoiced as he threw them to her. They were very soiled and damp but she managed a weak Scourgify spell, it was all she could hope for without her wand. She must have dropped it somewhere, because it wasn’t in her wand pocket. She stuffed her clothes on as Fenrir looked on from the bed. She found her mp3 player too hidden deep within her cloak and she smiled. Muggle comforts.

“Can you please let me go and fetch some groceries? I mean...if I am to stay here,” She bit her lip, "I need proper food. I can't live off apples."

****

The fresh breeze was so welcoming to her, she felt so good in clothes again too. She scurried along the high street, where would she be able to escape? She tried to make a plan inside her head, but it was awfully hard to get away with a wand. She had no idea where in Britain she was! She was at a set of traffic lights, and being eyed by lots of people. Apparently she looked a bit weird in her burnt orange travelling cloak, but she ignored them - She must be in a muggle area. There was the grocers now in sight, and there was a taxi rank outside. A taxi, she could get a taxi. Although she had only her Muggle bank card with her and a handful of wizard money in her pockets. She was amazed they were still left in her cloak.

Hermione hurried across the pedestrian crossing, and towards the taxi rank, but she froze as her eyes caught sight of the werewolf up ahead, watching her. He was standing up against the wall on the opposite side of the road, with a cigarette in his mouth. He wiggled his fingers in a coy wave to her. She shuddered, she couldn’t escape. If she tried – he would surely come after her. A flash of what happened in the forest came to mind, anything but that.

Hermione calmed herself, and walked into the Muggle shop. After selecting what she needed she looked at the deodorant, well it couldn’t hurt. After paying for her groceries she headed towards the door. She could see Fenrir standing menacingly at the other side, people were avoiding him. He threw down his cigarette when he saw Hermione and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before slinking off in her direction. She shuddered, he really did repulse her.

****

After he had escorted her back to his house, she set about unpacking the groceries on the kitchen table. “I hope you weren’t thinking of leaving me back there?” Fenrir asked, sniffing various items from the table.

Hermione avoided his eyes, “No, I knew you would be watching me,” she lied. But how could she be so stupid, of course he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. She was so angry at herself for getting her hopes up.

“I’m going for a shower,” Fenrir growled and walked out of the room. Hermione was amazed; she didn’t even know that man knew what a shower was for. She used the time alone well. First she made herself some quick food, and cleaned up after herself. It would be no good to leave the house in a mess, if she knew she would be staying much longer; which of course she hoped she wouldn’t but it was only in her nature... Then she decided to take a look around. The sitting room was very cold, and books littered the floor. In one corner she could see a blanket had been lain down on the ground, as if someone had slept there.

It was then she remembered the other doors upstairs, and she crept up quietly to the first floor. The shower was still on; she could hear it as she passed by the bedroom door. The witch approached the other door, and it was locked. Damn. So then she tried another and it swung open with a creak. Hermione gasped, it was a library. A small one, but the whole room was lined with books apart from the fireplace and large bay windows.

The witch spent the next 10 minutes poring over large leather-bound books. She was just putting one back on the shelf when she felt someone watching her. She turned to face the door and her eyes widened. Fenrir stood, leaning an arm against the door, looking very suave – unbeknownst to him of course. He looked so different she almost choked. He must have brushed his hair, and he had shaved off the mutton chops and tidied up his beard. Now he only had some very neat sideburns and a trim beard, were the plaits grew out and dangled. He adorned a black silk shirt that was shimmering in the light; opened at the top – as usual. Her eyes followed down to his formal trousers and noticed he was wearing shoes. Not boots, as usual. He had scrubbed up pretty well for a criminal, but she wouldn’t admit it to herself.

“I see you found the library.” He pushed himself from the doorway and walked over to the witch. Hermione felt very threatened by him all of a sudden and she didn’t know why. It was the tone of his voice that haunted her the most. Before she knew it he was standing right beside her, leaning over to see what books she had been holding. His face was very close to hers. His breath reached her cheeks and she blushed. She noticed the key earring that hung from his ear, perhaps she hadn’t noticed it before because his hair had been so messy? But now it was sleek, and shiny – still wet from the shower. She hesitated and was uncomfortable.

His blue eyes pierced hers and she felt a shiver run up her spine, he was too close for comfort. But the witch could not break from his gaze, suddenly she felt her eyes close and their lips touch. And before she knew it she was kissing him again. It felt strange; she didn’t know if she liked it. It wasn’t rough like last time.

She pulled back and whispered, “You don’t kiss very often do you?” He frowned, but didn’t say anything. Seeing that she had irked him slightly she could have killed herself because of what she did next, she rose up on her tip-toes to kiss him again. Damn it, it was like an automatic reaction. She wasn’t thinking about who it was, only the feeling of kissing someone. She led the way, ignoring the butterflies that could well have been sick in her stomach, kissing him again and again. Slow, and softly, teaching him how to do it.

Hermione bit her lip between kisses, she shouldn’t be doing this. Not willingly, what would Ron think? But it felt so exhilarating to be kissing someone else all of a sudden. When she opened her eyes again she could see Fenrir’s blue eyes still looking at her. She shivered slightly, but it felt good – in a way. She could feel him smiling against her lips, smiling not smirking. But it was still creepy.

The werewolf felt ecstatic. The young witches lips were the softest he’d ever felt. He cursed himself for letting the escapade go so leisurely. He’d usually have thrown her down on the floor and had his wicked way with her by now, but he didn’t feel like that just now. He was too engrossed in the present activity. He’d never quite got the hang of kissing, at least not like this. The human side of him conflicted with him all the time. It felt like living in someone else’s body. Fenrir knew little of human emotion after living alone for so long. The werewolf in him had taken over completely once upon a time. He’d lived like an animal, ate like an animal and thought like an animal. So when confronted by other humans, he often got a rush of too many emotions.

Hermione felt her hands snake around the werewolf’s, and travel up his back clutching onto his smooth shirt as she let her eyes close again. She parted her lips slightly in the kiss and felt his tongue slip inside. It was warm and rough, but she liked that. It made it feel different from just two tongues slipping and sliding around. She felt his hand touch her face, and she could tell he was smiling again.

After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled back and smirked at her. She felt a twinge in her stomach again, as if she had been thrown back on earth and realised who he was, as he sat down in a nearby armchair. Her lips still tingled from his touch, and she sat down as well in a daze. All sorts of thoughts were running through her head, they stayed silent for quite some time. Eventually she stole a glance at him, and had to stifle a laugh! He was massaging his jaw with his fingers, obviously a little exasperated at their workout. She smiled, feeling the butterflies rise up in her stomach again.

They stayed in the library for the rest of the night, when it got colder he lit the fire. Hermione had taken to reading a nearby book, and Fenrir just sat looking very contemplative. When it grew dark she set the book aside and got up. “I think I will go to bed now,” she said quietly, walking to the door. Fenrir simply looked up at her, still in deep thought, stroking the braids of his beard.

****

Back in the bedroom Hermione closed the door behind her and leant against it. She let out a long sigh. Now she was in trouble. How could she let herself do that?! What would she tell Ron? How could she suddenly just let him touch her after what he had done? She was in two minds about the whole incident. The thought that he repulsed her was barely there, she couldn’t deny he looked so much more human tonight than he ever did. But she tried to reason with herself - he had raped her. She couldn’t let her guard down now; she definitely did still hate him. But then why did she feel so compelled to kiss him back? Was it just lust? Or did she actually feel anything for him? She was riddled with guilt now, she was engaged. She couldn’t keep doing this.

Hermione shuddered slightly at the thought of what had happened earlier. Facing him again was only going to be another challenge. She wriggled out of her clothes and pulled the black shirt over her head. She was using it now as nightclothes, since she was against sleeping naked when the werewolf was around. The witch curled up on the bed, the shirt smelt worse than it had done when she had originally picked it up from the banister. It had been worn by her plenty of times since then, but she could still smell his scent on it. Her nostrils twitched as she sniffed at the material.

Then the bedroom door swung open, and the werewolf walked in, her eyes lingered on his face. There was another awkward moment. He didn’t seem to want to take a position up on the bed until she had asked him to, so he lit the fire and sat down on the rug. Her eyes ran over his face again, why did he look so different? He looked more youthful, less haggard than he had been before. Surely it wasn’t just because he had had a wash. But then she remembered what the book had said. Stage one, completely human. Was this what was happening to him? Hermione hadn’t given the book much thought since being around him. She calculated what she knew; he was highly strung when she had first been kidnapped. And now she noticed his teeth were not as pronounced as usual. They had become straighter, and he was it really just the shave or did he seem less hairy than usual? She contemplated it, but thought it highly unlikely that all his excess hair would just fall out. Never the less she couldn’t help but feel that those had been characteristics of the second stage. But that had meant that before she arrived there would have been a full moon, and that he had been going through the meltdown stage now - Through from being half-wolf to human again.

She looked over at Fenrir again, and found he was smiling. Not at her, his face was partially turned away, but he must have been daydreaming again. She wondered what he could be thinking about, when suddenly he lay back on the floor, one hand on his chest and one behind his head. He closed his eyes, but the smile was still there.

She was curious, was it because of what happened earlier? But why would he feel elated? She had labelled him as the ‘Rapey’ kind after what he had done to her. Could he even feel like this? She noted that the stages of the werewolf cycle may have changed him psychologically too, and mused that maybe he had changed the way he would deal with her. Hell, she thought. He sure was a different man earlier! Hermione thought of the werewolves tongue, and the softness of his lips, she bit her lip and then realised what she was thinking about. But she couldn’t help thinking about it as she looked over the edge of the sleigh bed to see him still lying there. His eyes were closed but he was twitching his foot rhythmically which led her to believe he was still awake.

“You can sleep up here you know, it is your bed.” An eye opened and he looked up at the bed, the witches head peaked over the top of the ornate wood. After a long drawn out pause he answered.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said courteously, as he got up from the rug. Hermione shifted over to one side of the bed, her heart beating faster than she had expected it to. Crap, why did she say these things before thinking them through? This could go two ways, she thought – either he would end up trying to molest her again, or else they would be in awkward silence for the rest of the night. She hoped it was the latter, but the witch knew either way it was going to be hard going.

He crept into the bed, pulling his shirt off and pushing his trousers down only when the covers were around him, she mentally thanked him for that. He lay down putting his hands behind his head and she pulled the covers tighter around her. Great, Awkward silence...

Hermione looked up at the hangings above the bed, if Ron could see her now..he would kill her. She was just thinking about what she would do if he walked in, or what she would say when Fenrir’s voice startled her. “Am I really that bad at kissing?” He said quietly. Hermione burst out laughing at his absurd and unexpected question, which probably did nothing for his self-esteem. She clutched the covers as she shook with laughter. Of all the things he could say to break the silence, was that what he had been contemplating all night?

He growled and threw his pillow at her heaving body, and rolled over. When she had finally stopped, she felt a lot more comfortable in the same bed as him knowing he had more depth than she had thought. She still couldn’t help letting the odd giggle out, as she rearranged the covers around her, and looked at his giant form beside her. He was facing away, and she had just laid herself back down on the pillow when she heard him whine. It was canine-like, high-pitched and gut-wrenchingly awful. She thought at first he was having a laugh, but he did it again and she felt a slight pang in her stomach.

Hermione went to speak but closed her mouth again. She hadn’t meant to offend him, she had only laughed because it was just such a weird thing for such a ‘bad boy’ to say. She lay for a few minutes, feeling guilty. It was clear to her now that he had difficulty showing his emotions as human, this was the only possible answer she had for him whining.

She tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t, and whining back would only mock him - probably. She knew he wasn’t asleep; his chest would be rising higher. After a few seconds she heard it again, much quieter but he was definitely making some sort of noise. She bit her lip again; the sound was awful – no wonder dogs always got what they wanted. She braced herself for what came next, took a deep breath and slid over the bed towards him.

****

A/N: OMG what a perfect cliff-hanger. MUAHAHAHA!!

*Lyrics- Saving Me, Nickelback
- 4
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Savage Seduction