Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Every Wolf's Bane	By : blade-of-the-shadows Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 29234 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters from Harry Potter, all credit goes to Rowling and I do not make any profit from this fanfic

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Fenrir pulled Lance to the side and Harry stopped, looking at them curiously. Whatever Fenrir was saying, he didn’t want Harry to hear it. He knew they were talking about him; they kept on looking back at him. Lance nodded at something Fenrir said and walked towards Harry.
“Fenrir wants ya, Pup.” Harry glanced over at Fenrir.
The brunette wolf ambled over to a large oak tree, its branches almost bare except for a few straggling leaves brown and dying. He looked up at the tree and sat there, his head tilted against the trunk. Harry, curious but not enough to try and dare go over to the man, watched the man with avid interest, not even noticing when Lance smiled and walked away.
It was rare that Harry every saw the man relaxed as he was now. Even when he slept, Fenrir was tensed and alert for any oncoming danger. It was his duty as the Alpha to his pack. He trusted Lance to watch the pack every once in a while if he felt like going out or something, but there was never a time when the both of them left without being in a short distance of getting back to the pack in less than a minute, running. Like there in the clearing; Harry could at the moment hear the sounds of laughter and grunts as someone wrestled.
The whole time Harry had been staring at Fenrir, but now he looked away and blushed as the man looked back at him. He was embarrassed that the man had caught him staring so intensely. He could hear Fenrir grunt and shift.
“C’mre, Harry.”
Harry blinked, shocked. Fenrir never called him Harry.
At Fenrir’s growl of impatience, Harry quickly made his way over to stand in front of the brunette. A sudden wind blew, making his messy, but now combed out, hair fly into his face. The same happened with Fenrir’s shorter hair and a lock fell into his eyes. Harry was tempted to push it away but he wasn’t sure how Fenrir would react.
Said man sighed and reached up, yanking Harry down into his lap. Harry gave a small yelp and tried to scramble up, but Fenrir’s long, strong arms came around and held him tightly in place. He shifted until both he and Harry were in comfortable positions, his chin resting on top of Harry’s head. Harry was tense, unsure of what Fenrir was planning to do. It was the most touching Fenrir ever did to him awake, usually only cuddling up against Harry when he was asleep.
A moment of silence passed where they just sat there. Harry knew that Fenrir had something that he wanted to tell him, but didn’t know how to say it. Harry was okay with waiting; he grew up perfecting the art of silence around the Dursleys, who hated for him to make any type of noise, to remind them that he was a part of the family. Taking into consideration that Fenrir actually planned to talk to him, Harry was content to wait in silence, curled up in Fenrir’s lap.
He was actually beginning to doze off when the man spoke, his voice low and deep. Unused to hearing Fenrir’s voice so close and so deep, Harry shivered. Fenrir must’ve thought that it was because of the cold; his arms tightened around Harry and he sort of hunched over, blocking some of the wind from Harry. The man himself only wore jeans and a thin t-shirt, no shoes as always, but was much warmer than Harry.
“I know that I came off as an asshole when we first met but I hadn’t been in a good mood to begin with.” To Harry, this sounded like the beginnings of an apology, though he was certain Fenrir wouldn’t out right say it. “But we were stuck in that cell together and I pretty much had no choice to but to be…nice to you or else I would’ve gone crazy. And then you turned out to be a lot more interesting than I thought…”
Fenrir faded off, probably not sure where to go anymore with his speech. If he could, Harry would’ve twisted in Fenrir’s lap to hug him, but instead he settled with reaching up and twisting his fingers through Fenrir’s.
“Fen…?”
Their eyes locked as Fenrir looked down at him. “I chose you as my mate for a reason. I’ve had a lot of other mates, yeah, but they were all women. You’re the first male mate I’ve ever taken. That means something, Harry. So stop fucking sulking so goddamn much. I promised we’d be together on the full moon, right?”
Harry’s eyes widened. “So tonight?”
“As wolves, yes.” Fenrir leaned forward and kissed Harry hard. “I’m going to fuck you so hard your eyes will be permanently crossed.”
~oOo~
Harry wriggled with slight discomfort as the sun finally set. He sat naked on the forest floor, in Fenrir’s lap, and said man, also naked, growled at Harry’s movements. There was no need for clothes as they would’ve just ripped out of them with the change.
The man had suddenly walked up to him and practically demanded that they were together for their first change as mates. And Harry’s first change in a pack. Harry’s been so happy that he leapt into Fenrir’s arms and kissed his mate hard. Fenrir had been surprised, but pleased, if the smirk that was still on his face was anything to go by.
“Calm down, pup.” He bit Harry’s ear. “Moving around ain’t getting nothin’ up but my dick.”
Harry blushed and stopped wriggling, craning his head back to look at Fenrir. “Oh, but I get so impatient. I can feel it, right there. It’s killing me, Fen.”
Fenrir smirked and his chest puffed out in pride of his mate. No doubt because of Harry’s easily assimilation to the wolf life. Harry’s body might’ve been a bit weak, but his mind and will were on par with Fenrir’s; his tongue sharp and witty. It was so simple for him to become the Alpha Bitch, easily putting himself in a top position, second only to Fenrir and sometimes Lance when Fenrir left him in charge. Fenrir remembered clearly when he allowed Remus into the pack and they didn’t take to it so well.
They’d all gotten a tongue lashing so bad from Harry; Fenrir hadn’t even felt a need to interfere for his own pride’s sake. All his satisfaction went to his wonderfully strong submissive and the way he so easily fell into his position without complain or abuse of such position. All Fenrir’s previous bitches either whined because they didn’t get enough, or were constantly nagging his men and demanding things of them, trying to overtake Fenrir’s head position (a/n: hee hee). Needless to say, all of Fenrir’s previous bitches had been female—though he preferred men, Fenrir was never sure how his pack woulf take to him having a male mate until Harry appeared—and also needless to say, Fenrir killed every single one of them with a rare, genuinely happy smile on his face.
Harry knew all about Fenrir’s previous bitches. The man ensured that Harry knew that he wasn’t some celibate bitch. Harry, naturally, couldn’t give two fucks, much to Fenrir’s delight. It would seem that all the other bitches always complained at the number of the ones before them, not realizing that there were so many because Fenrir kept killing them in a fit of rage and that they’d be next if they didn’t shut the fuck up. Harry was aware of Fenrir’s age and the long time anger the man carried. It was so easy to tell what the other bitches did for there to be so many of them, and he knew that with Fenrir’s anger, having a lot of bitches before him was inevitable, even more so with the man’s age.
But Harry didn’t plan on getting killed anytime soon. Fuck dying; he didn’t want to lose a chance at having a family. It was all he’d ever wanted and all be damned if he, boy-who-lived-to-have-hyphened-names-like-this-one-to-state-the-obvious, would die after getting one. He’d kill before he let that happened. He finally got a true family and he wasn’t letting them go. Now, if only he could somehow get Fenrir to accept the twins, Harry’d be truly happy.
Draco had wormed his way into Michal’s heart, but the quiet Russian wolf said nothing to the blonde. Harry knew that Draco knew, however, because the older teen had confided in him and asked of his opinion, much to the raven’s shock. It was rather obvious to Harry that Draco was also feeling something for Michal, but it seemed that the blonde hadn’t realized it. He suggested that Draco wait a little bit longer to see if Michal would do anything, and if he didn’t, then Draco should confront them. Harry and Fenrir betted that by the next full moon, Draco would be a werewolf.
Bryanna avoided Harry like the plague, which both he and Fenrir had noticed and didn’t care. Fenrir had told him, however, that should Bryanna try anything to break them up, he would gladly rip her to pieces. After torturing her, of course. Harry almost told him not to, but then realized that he was only saying so automatically and not because he didn’t want her tortured. Then he realized that he told Fenrir not to do this and that a lot and vowed to never do it again. Merlin forbid he turned into the next Molly Weasley, nagging Fenrir into a resigned submission. Not that Fenrir could ever be pulled into submission. He would probably kill Harry before that.
Suddenly, the moon shone, cutting off Harry’s thought process as his wolf spirit rose to meet and meld with his human one. He took in a deep, gasping breath and felt Fenrir’s chest rise as his mate did the same. He shuddered as pain came over his body, cutting off the exhilarating feeling.
The process was faster and less painful than before, and Harry was grateful for that. It was easier for the rest of the pack, who’d all done it more than quadruple times the number as him. Theirs all went faster too; Harry barely noted as the pack came to surround him, the feeling of one single rough tongue on his skin and fur, comforting and helping him through the transformation.
But soon it all passed and before the pack stood a gorgeously regal, jet black wolf, vibrant dark green eyes peering at them all. There was only one mar, though to call it a mar was inaccurate, that wasn’t there before. Starting from under his jaw was a long, dark grey streak that curled down to his shoulder; marking him as a claimed sub. The color of the streak would be confusing, had not Harry’s mate stood beside him; his fur a beautiful shade of stormy dark grey, swirls of black and a slightly lighter grey whirling from his forehead and down his back. Piercing, icy dark grey eyes met Harry’s green gaze.
Recognizing his mate, Harry sat on his haunches and tilted his head to the side, giving a low whine. Fenrir huffed and moved forward, rubbing his muzzle against Harry’s before moving downwards to bury his nose in Harry’s claimed mark, growling in satisfaction. Harry stood stock still, his trepidation growing.
“Fenrir?”
Feeling his mate’s unease, Fenrir’s head rose and his eyes locked with Harry’s. After a heartbeat passed, he gently bumped his head to Harry’s and licked his muzzle. Harry stared at him in astonishment, mentally noting that Fenrir was more affectionate when he was a wolf—though conveniently forgetting that he more than likely wouldn’t remember in the morning—and hesitantly leaned forward to do the same to Fenrir’s muzzle.
Apparently, it was the correct thing to do as Fenrir gave him a wolfy smirk that inevitably looked more like a snarl and looked up to the pack, who still sat there, though not quite patiently. He gave a short bark, a command, and tossed his head.
“Get the fuck outta here. Go hunt, go have fun.”
The pack jumped up, barking and yipping—with the exception of Bryanna and Renee, who sneered at them—and ran off into the forest. Remus, who Harry could now tell was probably the same size as Lance, if a bit skinnier, gave him a long look before running off after the rest.
Fenrir glanced at Harry and leaned down to nudge his body forward. Harry stood so he didn’t fall and trotted after Fenrir, who’d almost immediately went for the forest. He naturally assumed the position at Fenrir’s left flank, not realizing he was in the rightfully place as Fenrir’s mate. His right flank was left open for the return of his lead Beta, Lance.
Fenrir glanced at Harry, increasing his speed until he was full out running. He howled, listening to the returning howls of his pack. Harry lolled out a wolfy grin and barked. The hunt was on.
~oOo~
Harry woke wrapped in Fenrir’s arms, the sun beating down on his completely bare body, warming him. He frowned. A little too warm in fact. He opened his eyes and looked up as much as he could around his beast’s steel arms. That’s why he was so warm; the pack surrounded him and Fenrir, conserving heat and providing the Alphas with the most heat.
Lance was closest to them, on Harry’s other side actually, at a respectful distance that wouldn’t get him killed by Fenrir. He was there as the lead Beta, Fenrir’s right hand man; there to immediately take control of the pack if Fenrir left for whatever reason and also to provide Harry with heat in the night if, again, Fenrir left for whatever reason. Surrounding him, Fenrir, and Lance was Emile, Seth, Michal, and Remus—who automatically had a high position as Fenrir’s childe and the third biggest wolf after Lance—as the higher Betas and at the edges of the pile, taking in the least bit of heat, were Jake and Arick—the lower Betas. Bryanna refused to sleep anywhere near Harry, and her cronies followed her mindlessly, so they all slept huddled under a tree.
Wriggling about till he rolled over in his mate’s arms, Harry looked up at the sleeping face of Fenrir. The man was deeply asleep, but tense, on alert. If Harry let out the softest of sounds, Fenrir would more than likely wake up immediately. On one hand, Harry wanted to do just that. On the other hand…he wanted a peaceful morning. His bladder though, told a whole other story. He stretched as much as he could and rubbed his nose against Fenrir’s jaw. His mate shifted and let out a grunt.
“Go back to sleep, Pup.”
“I have to fucking pee, Fenrir.”
The older man growled out something Harry couldn’t hear and tightened his arms. “Well then fucking hold it. I’m comfortable.”
Harry glared at him, even though Fenrir couldn’t see it. “I swear to Merlin, I will piss on you if you don’t fucking let me—”
“Al-right.” He snapped, releasing Harry who quickly stood. “But come right back.”
“Where else am I going to go, Fenrir? Malfoy Manor?” Harry ran off before Fenrir could respond, though the man’ll get his revenge later more than likely, and pissed on one of the trees.
He yawned and looked around, humming along with the lively sound of the forest life around him. It was a beautiful morning…or afternoon, whichever. He felt great after last night’s transformation. Much better than he felt after the first one. A memory of Fenrir trying to teach him to hunt passed and he chuckled, pulling up his pants. He headed back to the sleeping pile just as Arick, Remus, and Emile stretched and yawned, sitting up. He smiled a good morning as the three nuzzled their faces into his side, a reassurance that he was fine.
“Morning, Alpha.” The three chorused, rising and stretching more. Emile turned and kicked Michal awake.
“Come on, you lazy fuck. We’re going to hunt for breakfast.” He looked up at the sun, squinting a little. “Scratch that. We’re hunting for lunch.”
Michal groaned but stood, also yawning and stretching. He leaned down and nuzzled his face in Harry’s hair. “Morning Alpha pup.”
Harry grinned and watched as they ran off, Remus and Arick following after. Well, at least until Fenrir yanked him down and curled those steel arm bands around him. He squirmed.
“Dammit, Fenrir!”
“Shut up, pup.”
Beside him, Lance shifted and reached out to ruffle Harry’s hair. “Just go back to sleep, pup.” He said in a sleepy voice. “We’ll all wake up with they come back from hunting.”
Harry huffed but closed his eyes, falling asleep to the rise and fall of Fenrir’s chest as his mate breathed. He dreamed of last night, about the hunt and playing around with the others and later on, curling up with Fenrir after eating and letting his mate clean his muzzle before doing the same. He dreamt about Fenrir touching him, kissing him, doing things to him…but none of that could’ve happened; Fenrir had been a wolf all night, and in this part of his dream Fenrir was human. He suddenly blinked awake, sitting up. Beside him, Fenrir was standing, his back cracking as he stretched. The man looked down at Harry.
“Up, pup. They’re back from hunting.”
Brow furrowed, Harry looked at where he was pointing. Indeed—Emile, Michal, Remus, Ariche, and a guilty looking Tamera were back; two decent bucks and a doe with them. One of the bucks was going to be skinned and cut to be taken back to number twelve. The other buck and the doe were for them to eat. The rest of the pack was already there, waiting for Harry and Fenrir to eat first; as the Alpha’s, they got the first, and best, pieces of each meal. Harry stood and stretched quickly, following after Fenrir.
He sat in a daze as he waited for Fenrir to hand him his piece. He could’ve stopped Fenrir from doing that, but he saw the carefulness in which Fenrir did it, the faint happiness in his expression; hinting that his previous bitches never let him do it. Harry didn’t really mind it, except for when Fenrir tried to feed him more when he was already full, which he hated but was supposed to give him energy and strength or whatever. Not that it mattered anyway. A nudge brought Harry from his thoughts.
“Pup?” He looked up dully at Fenrir, at the piece of meat his mate was holding out. With no emotion, he took the meat and bit into it. Fenrir’s brow furrowed, but the man didn’t pry.
For the rest of the day, Harry walked around lifelessly, even after they returned to Grimmauld Place. He felt empty, unwanted. He couldn’t believe what Fenrir did…or lack thereof. He knew Lance was wrong. He knew Fenrir was going to lie. Fenrir didn’t want him; last night was proof. Last night was supposed to be the night…but nothing happened. He should’ve known better. Who could trust a serial killer, anyway?
It wasn’t until later that evening, after Harry’s sulking and Fenrir stomping around because of Harry’s sulking, that Lance pulled the young wolf into the backyard. Harry looked up at him with a blank expression, no hint of his current troubled thoughts.
“Harry, what’s wrong? You’ve been out of it all day, since you woke up at lunch. Did something happen last night—?”
“Nothing happened last night. That’s the problem.” Harry interrupted with surprising vehemence.
Lance blinked once, his lips tightening slightly. He looked away with a slight snarl. “I told that fucking idiot…Pup, don’t take what Fenrir’s doing to heart. I know he promised you for last night… but personally, and don’t let him know I told you this, even though this is my second time telling you; I think he’s afraid. Fenrir’s a rough guy. Majority of the time he hurt the bitches before you. And you’re currently much weaker than they were. You know how strong Fenrir is, and that’s with steel control over his muscles. He wouldn’t have that much control in wolf from; he might’ve killed you if he mounted you last night. Do you understand?”
Harry looked away, blinking away tears. “Yeah, but he could’ve told me that.” He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “I feel so empty, Lance. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.”
“Talk to him. Yell at him if he doesn’t listen. Do something, don’t cry. You brighten up this place, pup; we can’t afford to have you sad.”
Harry sniffed and nodded. Lance smiled and patted his head, before giving a pointed look behind him. He turned and saw Fenrir lashing out on Jake, and though Harry was sure the idiot deserved whatever he was getting yelled at about, anger built in him upon seeing how…normal his mate was acting, unable to see Harry’s turbulence. Taking a deep breath, he approached Fenrir and touched the man’s shoulder, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He waited until his mate looked down at him to speak.
"We need to talk." Fenrir frowned and opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off. "Now."
- 7
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- 9
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Every Wolf's Bane