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The Distance In Your Eyes	By : Pfeifenkraut Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 30085 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: Nothing of the Harry-Potter-universe belongs to us. It's the property of J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury. We do not make money out of this. See full disclaimer below.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Chapter 7

Fenrir wrinkled his sensitive nose as soon as he stepped out of the shabby pub and onto the cobblestones of the small street in front of the pup. As always when he was in Knockturn Alley he couldn't wait to be gone again. Not because of fear – honestly nobody was crazy, or suicidal, enough to attack him – but because of the putrid smell. One of these days it would burn away the tiny hairs in his nose...

Stopping that line of thought – he had thought about it a million times and it hadn't helped him at all – he started walking down the dark and narrow alleyway. The dirt that had collected itself on the street crunched beneath Fenrir's buckskin boots and for once he was happy about having a pair.

Who knew into what he would be stepping if he hadn't had one.

The smell of cheap alcohol, needy bitches that had consumed drugs to no end, and unwashed bodies which had resided in the pup he had just come out of, had made his skin crawl – again not because of fear but because of revulsion – and his already bad mood had turned for the worse.

And now that sweet smell was replaced by the foul odour of old and fresh vomit and urine. As if that helped! On the contrary it worsened his mood even more and any living being that had retained enough of its brain fled as soon as they saw the dark look on his face.

Why did humans have the need to mark a territory they would never be able to claim? This street would always be property of the dark creatures no matter how much the humans would piss on it.

Or were they so ignorant they didn't know what they were doing? Didn't they know that every creature that wandered this street could smell their illegitimate claim?

Then again... he had lived – more or less – with Voldemort for the last... years... and he had learned that humans could be very ignorant if they wanted to...

Anyway, the vomit and their useless claiming polluted the already mouldy air even further and didn't help Fenrir's mood at all. Waste water and trash were almost the last straw to his senses.

Walking down the street he noticed several mad stares which were warily following his every step. The insane glares belonged to haggard and gaunt frames that were sitting on the free space on the sides of the streets between different piles of rubbish.

Fenrir didn't spare them a second glance.

They had long ago lost their last human traits and now only lived for food, drugs and the occasional urge to be fucked so they were completely useless to him in his search for information. Not even their blood and flesh would be any good.

Not that his informants had been any more helpful than these blubbering fools! All they had been doing was wasting away on drinks and whoring themselves out instead of keeping their ears open for any useful information!

How was he supposed to find his mate like this?

His only clue was that his mate had been kidnapped by an unworthy Muggle after he had left the safety of the cave. He had gone, without notice, because there hadn't been any hint of anybody intruding his lair. But still Fenrir refused to accept that his mate had fled from him – that was just too absurd – and even worse, was now with the utmost probability in the filthy clutches of the perverted son-of-a-bitch!

He was aware of the fact that he was scary like hell. And he was aware that the pup was afraid of him being a Death Eater.

But that was still no reason for leaving the cave out of his own free will before that little incident! Mates didn't hurt each other!

He had lost any trace of his mate which was the reason why he had entered the pub hoping to get some nice and proper information but the bastards that provided him with what he wanted every now and then had been too absorbed in their fire whiskey of low quality.

He had dragged both of them out of the back door and had beaten the shit out of them. A lot of blood had been involved and even some broken bones but not even that had helped their motivation or their memories. Apparently they had already been too far gone in their alcohol consummation for their self preservation to kick in and so had not been very forthcoming at all.

Hence, nobody could be really pissed with him for forgetting himself, right? After all, he had lowered himself enough to come to this shitty pub and they had been completely stoned? Did they honestly believe he would be happy about their inebriation?

Grumbling at the memory, he continued his way down the dark alley.

In the end he had taken them by the throats, each one of them in one hand, and had bashed their heads against the stone wall. That had finally seemed to start some kind of fearful recognition in their eyes because they had started blabbering and blubbering in submissiveness.

However, they still hadn't been very helpful.

So in another fit of rage he had again banged their heads against the wall, with so much force that they had temporarily been knocked out. After that he had leaned forwards so that his toothy mouth was close to both of their throats and had threatened them, "Find him or die."

Then he had left them behind in a pitiful pile of fear and urine and had re-entered the pub so he could carry on with his search.

And now on the main road of Knockturn Alley he was still utterly clueless concerning the whereabouts of his mate.

Fucking hell, he wanted his little mate! And as soon as he got his claws on the person that had kidnapped him...! They would wish their bitch of a mother had never given birth to them at all! Damn them all! He needed to kill something! Now! Preferably the bastard of a kidnapper! And after the fucker was dealt with he would take care of his mate... He wouldn't be able to wait for much longer or he would lose his mind!

Damn it all to hell and the way back! He wanted him! Now! He was already so addicted to him that his whole being craved his presence!

A devilish grin stole on Fenrir's features. He would make certain that his little mate wouldn't be able to stand for the next week as soon as he had him.

Sudden movement ripped him from his thoughts and caught his attention. Turning his head he saw a piece of a cape disappear behind a corner.

Strange. That piece of cape hadn't appeared to be that worn and dirty as the majority of the clothes he normally encountered in this alley.

Who would be stupid enough to enter Knockturn Alley except for himself? Not a lot of people dared to, even if they had business here. In that case they often send lowly servants to do their business. Too great was the fear – especially of those pure blood bastards – that something might happen to them.

Curiosity piqued, he took a whiff.

His lips widened in a malicious smirk, showing of his sharp teeth as he recognised the scent of one Amycus Carrow, sworn Death Eater.

Maybe this day would be a good one, after all.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Hello, Amycus. How have you been?" Fenrir drawled from the shadows several feet behind the Death Eater, scaring the shit out of him. He had been tailing the bastard in hopes of finding out at least something of his whereabouts – after all the Carrows were some of the son of a bitch's most loyal cock-suckers – but it seemed Carrow was determined to wander Knockturn Alley without real purpose.

Amycus whirled around, wand drawn and pointed into the darkness in front of the buildings surrounding the small, dirty alley he had been followed into.

Once Fenrir stepped into the twilight of the little street, the Death Eater relaxed his stance but didn't put his wand away not even lowering it.

Good, Fenrir thought. It would be so much more fun like this.

"Greyback, I haven't seen your mug for a while." Carrow sneered and added provocatively, "How does the search go?"

In the blink of an eye Fenrir gripped Carrow's throat and slammed him against the wall. Tightening his claws they pierced the soft skin and turned a bloody red. The Death Eater's eyes widened in shock, too surprised to defend himself.

"Do you have any information I should know about?" Fenrir asked creepily, hovering dangerously close to Carrow's ear, his breath like a soft breeze caressing the shell.

"Maybe something you want to share with me?" He purred, his other hand softly fondling the vulnerable belly of his prey.

"No." Carrow rattled, his voice raspy.

"Are you sure?" Fenrir's voice became even darker while the rough pad of his thumb stroked over the Death Eater's aorta.

"Additionally to you the Dark Lord sent a group to uncover the whereabouts of the Potter boy..." He hesitated and drew a shaky breath, closing his eyes momentarily. "And another one to make sure you followed orders... Looks like I've found you first but it seems that wasn't such a good thing to do after all."

A bitter smirk graced his ugly features.

"What about the Potter brat group? Did they find him?" Fenrir hissed and stopped moving the hand on Carrow's belly.

"Who cares? I was preoccupied with other things."

"Too bad." Fenrir growled, his eyes flashing a dangerous amber. The claws against Carrow's abdomen speared the black fabric and stomach without difficulty, pushed into the torn open flesh and pulled out a handful of innards. Blood splattered onto the cobblestones and Fenrir's clothes.

Disgusted Fenrir dropped the dying body of Amycus Carrow into the gutter, followed by the intestines which landed with a wet and splashy noise on Carrow's face. The guts' blood was dribbling down Amycus' features and dripped down onto the street. A red puddle was forming around Carrow's cooling body, soaking it, while it mixed with the filth and piss of the street.

Crouching down beside the Death Eater, Fenrir wiped off his bloodied hand on Carrow's cape.

Not sparing him a second glance, he stood back up again and strode away, not caring about the lifeless eyes boring into his back.

Damn it all to hell! How dare they question his loyalty? He would never break his word!

He snorted. As if! If he reached his goals like that... why not?

Besides, as it seemed, questioning his loyalties wasn't such a bad thing to do for the Dark Sucker. For once in his life the bastard showed intelligence. And he did so when it suited Fenrir the least. Of course the fucker had to grow a brain when Fenrir wasn't there to protect his fragile pup.

Best thing ever would be if he started mating with the bitch to reproduce! That would top it all! The sheer ugliness!

Little bastard brats running around everywhere they would start to hunt down his precious mate as well and if Fenrir wasn't with him they would start to molest him! Fucking hell!

Okay, that was a bit far fetched, Fenrir had to admit... But really! Why now of all times!

Wait a moment... Now that he thought about it... He just had to follow the trail Voldemort was leaving. The only thing he had to do was follow his "stalkers" and get his information there.

Surely the others knew more than the idiot Carrow about his mate's location because really – the only reason Carrow was sent on this mission was that he was such a nuisance due to his stupidity. No wonder everybody wanted to get rid of him.

As long as he didn't know for sure who had him he would always assume the worst case scenario which meant that the Death Eaters had him in their clutches so killing them off meant less danger in the long run. After all he had no other choice but to switch sides now that his mate was on the light side. Even if the little one wasn't there was no way the bastard would allow him back after he had massacred so much of his followers – not that that was really such a loss. And if his sweet mate was at his former family's place he wasn't in danger at all.

So no matter where his mate was, the information Fenrir would gain from the Death Eaters would lead him to the little one in the end.

And it would certainly be amusing how the bastard and that next to useless Order of That Bloody Bird would react to an unknown third party – which would be him.

Chuckling evilly to himself at the thought, he leaned against a wall. He just had to stop by at the Order's hiding place – wherever that might be. Maybe it would be interesting to go and see Snape for further information on that... And as soon as he knew where he had to go he would pay them a visit.

Another evil chuckle.

That would certainly be fun.

For a moment Fenrir was deep in thought, imagining their faces when he would just pop out of nowhere, but was ripped from his excited mood when he suddenly sensed an unknown presence next to himself.

"Stones purify the stomach, you should try it."

Irritated for being pushed away from his positive thoughts, Fenrir looked to his side. He spotted a worn out man in ragged clothes whose hands were holding onto the wall. His whole body was only inches from touching the rocky surface while his nose seemed to almost kiss it. He was mumbling quietly to himself.

"I lost my marbles." Fenrir said into his direction.

If he played his cards right this conversation could turn out useful to him – at last somebody who could know something!

"We would have noticed if such beautiful marbles had crossed our path."

Fenrir chuckled.

The guy's humour was as crappy as ever!

Smelling a lost soul, Fenrir wasn't prepared for the screamed, "No! NO! Don't hurt us! We don't have it!"

Fenrir winced at the hysteric shout. His eardrums were ringing when he looked at the man, confused, but didn't say anything at all. One just had to take the man's moods as they came because if you reacted to them you would sooner or later go crazy. Waiting for the drunkard to disappear, he asked, "How do you know – about my lost marbles?"

"We have our ways." The lunatic paused and seemed to watch something on the wall intensely before he continued, "We are the walls and the walls are we! - And walls have ears!"

"And...?" Fenrir inquired impatiently.

The wall whisperer turned to him in a moment of clarity, his white eyes focusing on Fenrir's amber ones, piercing his very soul.

"A stone. I want the usual ancient stone from your territory!" He said, his voice for once serious without the typical madness. His eyes narrowed as he fixed Fenrir with a stern gaze. "And I'll see what I can do for you!"

"As soon as you have found him."

The man turned back to the wall, his skin turning the pattern of the wall while first his hands vanished slowly into the stony material. Afterwards his body was absorbed until nothing was left of him.
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The Distance In Your Eyes