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The Wolf and the Sheep	By : RubyCastle Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 23349 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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-The Wolf and the Sheep
- 2-The Wolf and the Sheep
- 1
- 2
The Wolf and the Sheep

Part 01

A/N: Just a short warning, this story contains lots of violence and non-con in the first chapter, if this bothers you I suggest you flee while you still can XD. If you're fine with it, than read on.....

And many thanks to my lovely beta, the ever fluffy and pink Nico ^___^

Harry paused, standing as still and alert as a deer. He was beginning to get the feeling that this wasn't such a good idea, in fact, it was a downright stupid idea. The Forbidden Forest was nearly pitch black and the further in he moved the less certain he was that he could find his way out again. Visions of giant spiders and angry centaurs flew through his mind and he had to force himself to carry on.

It was all Malfoy's fault that he was trekking through the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night searching for his missing wand. They were serving detention together for an incident that had taken place earlier that day involving several nasty words and the exchanging of fists which ultimately ended with Malfoy's hair being turned a lovely shade of violet, Harry sporting a brand new pair of antlers and the library in need of some severe reconstruction.

Not two hours later both him and Malfoy were in the Forbidden Forest and told that they were not to come out until they had worked through their differences. It was a tad extreme but Harry got the impression that the teachers were all fed up with their ongoing rivalry, especially Professor McGonagall who looked ready to implode in her rage. So a long afternoon was spent with Malfoy, exchanging insults and trying not to kill each other, until it had finally escalated into a full blown fight in which Malfoy had grabbed his wand and thrown it into the forest and ran off. So there he was, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest with no means of protection and almost blind in the dim light.

Slowly, Harry sank to his knees on the ground and began feeling around. He knew this was the spot his wand had fallen, it had to be. Shaking hands skimmed the cold wet ground, feeling dead leaves, twigs and dirt but no wand. He was steadily becoming more panicked by the moment. The smallest sound was like thunder in the silence of the forest, tiny noises becoming magnified. His fast panting breath was echoing in his ears but he couldn't help it, it felt like there was a hundred different eyes on him, all of them watching, waiting for him to let his guard down.

Ever so slowly he inched forward. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He shivered and wiggled his fingers forward until they touched something strange. Instinctively he flinched away with a gasp, eyes searching the darkness. Nothing stirred, the forest was silent except for his wildly beating heart. Harry took a deep shuddering breath to calm himself before tentatively reaching out to the strange object.

Once more flinching as his fingers made contact he searched slowly up the strange object. It was thick and solid and...hairy?

�Oh no.�

A deep rumbling laugh echoed horribly throughout the forest, going on far longer than was entirely natural and the already silent forest grew, if possible, even more silent than before.

Harry jumped to his feet and turned to run when a thick arm wrapped around his middle and slammed him backwards into a broad chest. He could feel the strangers hot breath against his ear and the harsh raspy whisper, �Silly boy, to walk straight into the wolfs arms. You should have ran like a good little sheep.�

�Let me go!� Harry snarled, fighting against the iron grip. He might have been a fly for all the difference it made, the arm didn't relent and pulled him closer against the burning hot chest.

�Let you go? When you wandered so willingly across my path?� The mouth curled into a smile against Harry's ear and the man licked a long path up Harry's cheek, laughing mockingly at his attempts to escape.

�Don't touch me! Let me go you bastard,� Harry screamed, twisting around in the mans grip and clawing at his arms and shoulders.

�As you wish.�

Harry cried out as he was shoved forward. He tried to get his feet under him but ended up getting tangled up and falling hard on his shoulder, face hitting the ground next and being scrapped raw against what felt like a protruding root. He lay for a second, panting in fear and pain, before stumbling to his feet and making a desperate effort to run. He didn't know where but he had to get away from that man. Every part of him screamed for him to run as fast and far away as he could.

He had only gotten a few steps before letting out a loud, petrified scream as he was tackled to the ground. His chest and face were once again slammed painfully into the ground before being lifted up and slammed down again and again.

After the fourth time Harry gave up trying to move and simply lay still, groaning in pain as the scrapes and cuts on his chest and face throbbed. He could feel the man kneeling above him, his presence bearing down on the shaking boy like a storm cloud.

Harry cringed as the man ran his fingers through his hair, brushing it off his damp forehead almost tenderly before leaning down and licking the back of his neck. He shuddered at the intimate gesture and tried to curl away, crying out in pain as the man yanked his head back by his hair, twisting it around awkwardly and licking at the sweat dampened neck.

�Let me go,� Harry whispered softly, �please. I promise I won't tell anyone.�

�No, boy. You're mine now. The only thing I have to do is to decide whether I'm going to eat you,� the man nipped at his exposed throat, �or...keep you.�

�No.� Harry didn't know which on he was saying no to. He didn't want to be eaten but the thought of being kept as a prisoner or a pet...what if the man found out who he was? What if he was a dark wizard and turned him over to Voldemort?

�Well boy, what will it be? Should I have a meal..or dessert,� he asked in a suggestive tone of voice that Harry didn't understand or like. He didn't know what was meant by 'dessert' so he said the only thing he could.

�Don't eat me.�

There was a brief pause, the air was so thick with tension it could be cut with a knife. The bark of laughter came so suddenly that Harry jumped. The man pressed him back into the dirt and leaned in close to hiss in his ear, �So be it.�

With no warning the man stood up and dragged Harry to his feet, lifting the boy into his arms with ease and cradling the passive body against his chest.

Harry lay still as the man picked him up and began running through the forest. He was frightened and in pain, even if he could break free he was in the middle of the forest with no wand and no idea of how to get back. He would wait until he had a chance and then he would run. He refused to think of what would happen until then, of what the man had planned for him. With a heavy sigh Harry closed his eyes and tried to ignore the aching of his body as he was carried toward an unknown fate

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It was a long time before they reached the end of the forest and Harry knew, with a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, that they were far from Hogwarts. He studied the area but all he could see in the moonlight was the blackness of the forest behind them and a vast expanse of field ahead. The man continued running.

Even though he was far away from anything familiar Harry was greatly relieved to be out of the darkness. Slowly, he looked up to see the face of the man who had kidnapped him. The light was dim but he could make out a broad, rugged face that looked like it had seen hard years. His eyes were hard and cruel, glowing with an amber hue and his face was deeply lined with a few days growth of beard. He wasn't ugly, but neither was he handsome by any means.

He was fearsome. Broad featured, tall, more muscled than Harry could ever hope to be with shaggy black hair that hung nearly to his shoulders.

As if sensing Harry's gaze the man turned those cold amber eyes on him and Harry felt a bolt of terror run through his worn body. He quickly turned his face away. Harry could feel the vibrations of the man's laugh rumbling through his chest but he was to tired to care.

He continued to run all through the night. Harry refused to shut his eyes though sleep was weighing heavily on him and as hard as he searched he could find no signs of civilization. By the time the first light began creeping over the horizon they were in another forest. This one wasn't nearly as dark or big as the Forbidden Forest but Harry would still rather be anywhere else.

After what seemed like weeks the man finally stopped and put Harry down with surprising gentleness. He was thoroughly exhausted and stumbled before being steadied by the large hand.

�Come boy, let me show you your new home.�

New home? Not likely.

Harry followed wearily and was led to, of all places, a cave. The man led him inside and actually around a corner. It was large, more than big enough for two people and was clearly lived in. Furs covered the expanse of the large hollow inside the cave. At the far end was a bed, also covered in furs, but there were few other things. A gas lamp, a chest, and bones...lots of bones. They littered the floor and were of all different shapes and sizes in various states, some intact, others broken. Harry felt his stomach lurch and backed away.

�Where do you think you're going?� Growled the man, pushing Harry roughly onto the fur covered floor. �There's still the matter of your payment.�

Harry looked up in horror at the man who he suddenly realized was stark naked and leering frighteningly at him. He was far bigger than Harry and he suddenly wished he was anywhere but there. The man could take him apart with his bare hands.

�N-no. You can't.�

�Can't I?� the man challenged with an amused smirk.

Without warning the man was on him. Harry shrieked as his clothes were ripped away, fighting with all his might against the relentless force of the man who batted his hands away and spread him open.

�NO!� Harry cried out, eye's spilling over with tears as he was flipped onto his stomach and the man positioned himself at his entrance. �You can't! Don't, please don't do this.� The man gave no indication he heard and Harry gave a choked cry as he felt the large member pressing firmly against him. �P-please, I'll do anything. Anything but this, please listen to me.�

Without warning the man surged forward, breeching the virgin entrance. Harry's scream resounded throughout the cave and he lurched forward, thrashing as the man pressed deeper and clawing desperately at the furs.

He had never felt pain like that before and could do nothing but sob as the strange man tore away his virginity with cruel, relentless stabbing motions. With every thrust Harry wailed, feet digging into the furs as his body tried automatically to protect itself and get away with no luck. Finally, after an eternity, the man was fully inside of him but he didn't move, resting against Harry's back instead and waiting for him to calm down.

The boy whimpered, shifting and twitching nervously as his body tried to adjust to the massive organ impaling him. He couldn't relax, his body wouldn't accept it. It hurt. He could feel the immense weight and pressure of it as the hot member stretched and tore the soft flesh of his insides. Horrible cramps tore through his stomach but he could do nothing but lay with his face pressed against the soft furs and pant in agony.

The man moved to pull out slightly and Harry gasped, reaching underneath him to clutch the large arm that was wound like an iron band around his abdomen. He couldn't speak, only whimper plaintively, squeezing weakly at the man's arm.

�Relax, little one. It will be over soon.�

Shaking his head rapidly, Harry could do nothing but clutch to the solid arm for support as the man pulled out, bringing a new height to his pain as delicate tissue tore and blood began to flow freely.
When the thrusting began the small body, already twitching in shock at the assault, began shaking uncontrollably.

The only sound in the cave was the wet sound of the man plunging in and out of Harry's abused body, the mans own soft grunting and Harry's mewling cries.

It didn't last long but by the time the man spilled himself in Harry's body he was already numb. He lay on the floor with the mans weight pressing him into the furs and feeling the faraway ache in his body. He wanted to go back home, to Hogwarts. He wanted to wake up in Gryffindor Tower and see Ron and Hermione and go to classes. He would give anything to be eating breakfast in the Great Hall like he was supposed to be, not laying underneath a strange man in the aftermath of a rape.

Harry drew in a deep breath and whispered, �Can I go home now?�

�No,� murmured the man, licking the back of Harry's neck briefly before rolling off of him. �You belong to me now.�

Neither of them spoke for a long while until Harry asked the question that had been haunting him. �Who are you?�

.....�Fenrir. Fenrir Greyback.�

The name meant nothing to Harry who gave a soft sigh and let the world fade to black.

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At that very same time two worried Gryffindors were on their way to the Headmaster's office. Ron and Hermione had searched everywhere for Harry that morning, even going so far as to ask Draco Malfoy if he had seen Harry after their detention.

Draco's reply was predictable. �How should I know where Potter is? Probably rolling around in the dirt with the rest of the animals. Why don't you ask them, Weasel? You must be familiar with dirty animals, seeing as how-�

That also ended very predictably, with Hermione having to separate the two and forcibly drag Ron away. Soon after they were standing in front of Dumbledore, explaining that Harry hadn't come back the night before. Any hope of good news was dashed as soon as they saw Dumbledores expression. He was worried.

It didn't take long for the news to spread across the entire school.

Harry Potter was missing.

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Harry woke up feeling hazy and confused. Brilliant green eyes opened, blinking owlishly at the unfamiliar sight that met him. Stone walls and ceiling as far as he could see and and he was laying on an unfamiliar bed, covered in something thick and soft.

He would have been rather content if it hadn't been for the burning ache in his body. Every part of him was pulsing with varying levels of pain, the worst being between his legs. It felt as if somebody had shoved sandpaper inside of him and rubbed him raw. That was when it all came back. The detention, the man who called himself Fenrir Greyback, the rape.....Harry buried his head under the furs and tried to block out the memories that came pouring back.

Please let this be a nightmare.

�Awake yet, boy?�

The familiar deep raspy voice startled Harry who sat up despite his body's protesting to look at the man. He stood near the bed, towering over the boy who could only stare up in horror at his tormentor.

Fenrir sneered. �Don't look so scared, I'm not going to take you again 'till you're healed. You can rest easy.�

�No!� Was Harry's automatic response. He had held out a small hope that now that he was finished the man would let him go. The thought of going through that again. He couldn't do it. �You won't get away with this. Everyone will know I'm gone, they'll find for me and throw your sorry ass in Azkaban when they do.� He declared with all the false bravado he could muster.

�Is that so? Of course the disappearance of the 'Great Harry Potter' is going to be big news.�

Harry blinked in surprise, caught off guard. �You know who I am,� he said quietly

�I could smell the Dark Lords magic all over you. I wasn't entirely certain but thank you for confirming it.� He grinned, baring unnaturally sharp teeth. �I am going to thoroughly enjoy this. Watching the wizarding world and the Dark Lord running around like chickens with their heads cut off never once suspecting who or what has taken you. Never suspecting that while they're searching far and wide you will be here with me, being taken night after night by the very creature they all despise and look down upon. Its almost poetic in it's irony, isn't it Potter? Hero and savior of the wizarding world on his knees for a werewolf.�

Werewolf! Harry could feel his blood running cold. �I-I don't understand. Why are you doing this? I've never done anything to you.�

�No, boy, I doubt you have.� Fenrir agreed, slowly sauntering towards Harry who cringed away from the man, pulling the furs up around him protectively. He wasn't wearing any clothes, neither of them were and the mans thick member hung between his legs, soft but threatening all the same. �But the rest of your kind, they hate us. They hunt us like animals, call us beasts, treat us worse than scum while they parade around, declaring themselves our superiors.� He scoffed, kneeling on the bed, dangerously close to Harry and whispering, �And the Dark Lord. He destroyed my pack. My life. I gave my loyalty to him and he betrayed me. For that I will take away his great victory. As long as you're alive the Dark Lord knows he will never truly have won. It will drive him mad. And you. Symbol of all I hate, the ones who killed me and my own, who hunt us without mercy, it is to me that you will kneel, that you will lay under. Do you understand, boy?�

Harry could only shake his head.

�You are my revenge. My way of taking victory from the ones who took everything from me.� Amber eyes stared hard into the brilliant green of the boys eyes. �You represent everything I hate.�

�I just want to go home,� was the soft reply.

Fenrir watched calmly as Harry broke down in tears for the second time since their meeting, burying his face in the furs and exposing a thin, sleek back. The muffled sound of the boys sobbing gave Fenrir a sense of satisfaction he hadn't felt in a long time. His revenge would be sweet. The boy wouldn't die for a long time...but when he did it was then that everyone would know that it was he, a werewolf, who had brought the wizarding world to it's knees. The boy would be his victory, not theirs.

Fenrir patted Harry's messy hair almost affectionately. His symbol, his catalyst.

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Harry spent the rest of the morning and afternoon laying in the bed, staring dully at the cave wall and trying to ease the pain in his body. All the while his mind was working frantically on an escape plan, anything and everything passed through his mind but the more he thought the less realistic they became until he was forced to admit he was stuck.

With no wand his one and only option seemed to be waiting until Greyback let down his guard or left, and run for it.

Groaning softly, Harry turned over. He couldn't walk, let alone run anywhere. He couldn't stand this, being in this bed that reeked of him and hurting in places he didn't want to think of, unable to do anything to help himself. It was made worse by the gnawing feeling in his stomach. He hadn't eaten since the morning before and it was beginning to hurt. Living at Hogwarts had spoiled him.

After a while it became to much. He could have held off the hunger but he couldn't stand laying there with his thoughts to haunt him.

Slowly, Harry eased himself off the bed and limped cautiously to the cave entrance, stepping gingerly over the graveyard of bones that littered the floor and trying his best not to think that soon he could be joining that morbid collection.

Harry stopped when he reached the cave entrance. Greyback was there, sitting just outside on a fallen log, head turned up towards the fading light, unmoving. It was as if Harry had hit an invisible wall the second he saw the man, a feeling of mounting horror crippled him and he quickly retreated back into the cave and crawled back into the bed.

How could he do that? How could he be expected to face the man who had raped him? His first time, his virginity had been stolen by that man. It wasn't something he ever thought of or cared about before but now that it was gone...he wished desperately it could have been different.

The thought of having to face Greyback after that terrified him.

Harry's mind before drifting back to sleep was filled with visions of being rescued and watching the monster's face as he was carted away to Azkaban.

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Fenrir stayed awake all night listening to the sound of the boys nightmares. He didn't try to stop him when he ran back into the cave, in fact, he preferred that Harry stay out of his way. The less he had to deal with some sniveling, whining brat the better.

His patience was limited and he didn't want the boy to die before his plans came to fruition. It was probably best that the boy didn't leave the cave at all but it didn't really matter. He could have free reign to wander the forest as he pleased, he wouldn't be able to leave without Fenrir permission anyway. The forest belonged to him and thanks to a powerful barrier around it, courtesy of Voldemort, anyone that came into the forest stayed in the forest unless shown the way out by somebody who already knew the way.

The Dark Lord couldn't be bothered to hunt Fenrir down or take away the wards after he had murdered the pack. His arrogance was both impressive and foolish.

Either way, Harry wouldn't be going anywhere.

By the time the light began to creep over the horizon Fenrir was restless. The full moon was nearing and he could feel the wolf stirring restlessly, fueled by the knowledge that just meters away lay a sweet little human, ripe for the taking.

It was to soon for that. It wouldn't do to injure the boy permanently while he still had to keep him alive. Fenrir got to his feet and stared into the forest. He would just have to find other prey.

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This time when Harry woke he didn't have any illusions about where he was. His body was still sore and stiff but the stinging ache had disappeared somewhat. He didn't feel like a walking corpse at any rate but this time the hunger and thirst were impossible to ignore.

He left the bed and navigated around the bones with a lot less caution than before. Harry peered timidly out of the cave, searching for any sign of the wild man. When he couldn't see him anywhere the boy breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out of the cave and into the light.

It was good to be in the light again.

Almost without thought Harry found himself taking off into the forest. Bare feet pounding on the, thankfully, mossy ground, taking his weary and aching body as fast and as far away as they could manage. Tree branches and bushy thorns scraped Harry's bare skin as he ran and he would have given anything for a robe to cover himself with, or better yet, a wand.

He ran until the burning in his lungs forced him to stop.

Harry collapsed to the ground, panting loudly. The wounds from the previous night had been re-opened and his body felt like it was on fire. He groaned softly and pressed his forehead against the cool moss that covered the ground. He lay that way until the nearby sound of water caught his attention. Just feet away a tiny stream crawled through the trees, tinkling almost merrily in a way that got on Harry's nerves.

He slowly crawled to the stream and drank until his stomach couldn't take anymore.

It was a long while before Harry got to the task of cleaning his body. He was in a right state, covered in scrapes and bruises and dirt and blood. He imagined what Ron and Hermione would think if they saw him like that, looking like a wild animal.

Gingerly he began scooping up small handfuls of the icy water and washing away the grime. It was a slow task, Harry shuddered every time the cold water touched his heated skin but he methodically cleaned away until he was squeaky clean and shivering, even tentatively cleaning away the blood from between his thighs. He shuddered as the red and white fluids dribbled down his thighs and onto the ground, remembering in horrible detail how he had gotten that way and how close he was to having it happen again.

It was time to go. Harry heaved his freezing body up and went off again, at a slower but no less urgent pace. He didn't know which way he was going, hell, he didn't know which way he should be going but as long as he got out of the forest it was fine with him.

He guessed he was walking for about an hour when the trees fell away and Harry almost cheered until he realized that something was terribly wrong. An icy chill passed over him that had nothing to do with the wind.

The cave, that horribly familiar cave, gaped at him like a monstrous mouth and with a cry Harry took off into the forest again. This time he took extra care to take a different way and make sure than he was walking in a straight line, growing more and more uneasy with every step. Something wasn't right with this forest. He knew he hadn't gone in a circle, he was positive.

It was almost another hour and by that time Harry was feeling faint and fuzzy headed. His stomach burned with hunger and his body was working on auto-pilot when he walked back into that same familiar clearing of trees and fell to his knees before the mouth of the cave. He felt sick to his stomach.

�You can't leave,� declared Greyback from behind him.

Harry turned, eye's bugging out at the sight that met him. The man was covered in blood and sweat, eyes burning with intensity as he slowly licked the blood from his lips. A deer was slung over his shoulder, head lolling bonelessly and Harry didn't have to see the gruesome wound on it's neck to know it was dead.

�Y-yeah, I noticed.� Harry muttered, looking away from the man in disgust. �No matter where I go I'll always end up back here...won't I?� Greyback simply smirked and threw the deer down in front of Harry who flinched at the sight and glared up at Greyback. �What am I supposed to do with that?�

�Use your imagination. There's a chest underneath the bed, you can find matches and a knife...and don't even think about using that knife for anything else. I've been going easy on you, that can change very quickly if you give me a reason.� He warned.

After one last warning glance Greyback turned and walked back into the forest, leaving Harry behind.

He felt numb. Without looking at the deer he walked back into the cave and straight to the bed, looking under it and finding the chest exactly where Greyback said it would be. With some effort he managed to drag it out and found with some satisfaction that it was pretty well equipped. A small gas lamp lay on it's side with a large bottle of fuel beside it. Harry dug further and found matches, a brush, soap, all the little necessities.

Harry lit the lamp and froze as the light glinted off the hard metal of the knife that was lying serenely at the bottom of the chest. It wasn't like any knife he had ever seen before. Six inches of highly polished silver looked back at him, this was no average kitchen knife. The wickedly curved blade looked ready to kill.

Harry took it hesitantly and stared expressionless at the serrated blade before tucking it quickly under the pillow. The boy sat on the bed for a long time, wondering if he was brave enough to put the knife to use. Before he knew it the gentle warmth of the cave and the overwhelming exhaustion he felt lulled him to sleep. He barely felt his head hitting the pillow.

It felt like he had only just closed his eyes when he was abruptly awoke with a yell. A massive hand had grabbed him by the back of his neck and shook him until he was screaming. Small hands scrabbled futilely at the arm that held him

�What did I tell you, boy?� Fenrir snarled in Harry's face, brandishing the knife dangerously.

�I'm sorry,� Harry wailed, arching his back in pain as Greyback twisted his hair. �Please, I'm sorry!�

Fenrir gave Harry another shake and dragged him outside, throwing him to the ground. Harry backed away, crouched warily on the wet ground. It was dark save for the moonlight and the wind tore at his bare skin.

Fenrir watched the boys face. He looked terrified and thoroughly miserable. Wet streaks glittered on the small face and brilliant green eyes stared, terrified, at the furious man. He could smell the boys fear and see the exhaustion written in every feature of his body.

�I'm s-s-orry,� Harry whimpered, trembling like a leaf.

Fenrir's mouth opened to scream at the boy but to his surprise nothing came out. His anger seemed to evaporate into nothing. In fact, his earlier rage seemed almost silly in the light of the moon with the boy crying his eyes out and swaying back and forth in exhaustion.

Giving the boy a strange look, Fenrir turned and left, all the while pondering his strange behavior. He had never before hesitated...never. Why this time?

Harry watched the wild man leave in confusion. He was sure Greyback was going to take the knife to him in his rage but he had done nothing but drag him outside, give him a strange look and leave. He wasn't complaining and made his way slowly back into what was quickly becoming his only haven. Grabbing a particularly large fur Harry crawled underneath the bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

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Harry woke to the smell of something cooking. This time he didn't even bother to be cautious and simply took his fur, wrapped around his thin shoulders, and walked outside.

The sight that greeted him gave him pause. There was Greyback, still unclothed, and looking as wild and dangerous as ever, hunched over a fire and cooking strips of meat in a small frying pan. A plate of already cooked meat and a small bowl of blackberries sat temptingly beside him.

Fenrir didn't look up as Harry timidly padded up to the big man, refusing to come within arms length of him and standing uncomfortably on the side. He could only stare longingly at the sizzling meat. He was so hungry but not enough to risk going near the man.

After a few tense minutes Greyback still didn't give any indication that he noticed Harry and the boy felt confident enough to ease himself to the ground, pulling the fur tighter around himself and studying the meat intensely.

Harry inched closer, keeping an eye on the man to gage his reaction. Still nothing. He was behind Greyback, just out of eye sight, it gave him enough confidence to get on all fours and reach forward, grabbing a strip of meat with his fingertips before scuttling back out of arms reach.

He devoured the meat in a few seconds and without thinking went back for another...and another. Greyback still gave no sign of noticing that a scarred boy wrapped in a large fur was behind him, stealing his breakfast. By that point Harry had given up all pretense and was sitting just feet from Greyback, casually plucking meat from the plate as fast as the big man could cook it and occasionally swiping a few berries.

Harry's mind was working on overdrive while he ate, trying to remember anything he could about werewolves. Not for the first time he cursed the many incompetent DADA teachers that passed through Hogwarts. Werewolves were only minimally covered and what he could remember mainly involved how to spot one from a real wolf. That wasn't going to help him.

He remembered something about alpha werewolves and territories. They were pack creatures but Greyback didn't have a pack anymore. They transformed at the full moon. Harry shuddered, remembering his one and only encounter with a werewolf and was struck with a sudden longing to see Remus Lupin's reassuring face. He wondered if Geryback would stay in the forest when he transformed, if that was when he planned to kill him.

Harry turned his mind away from that line of thought. He remembered something else. Werewolves had mates. They mated for life and were known to be unwilling to go on after the death of a mate.

Surely not... Harry also turned his thoughts away from that. He didn't want to remember than night.

Chewing a piece of meat meditatively, Harry continued thinking until Greyback abruptly put down the frying pan and stood up. Harry froze, ready to bolt if the man became violent. He did nothing but turn around and face Harry, examining him closely as if measuring him up.

�You're nearly healed.�

Harry slowly nodded, refusing to look Greyback in the eye. Neither spoke for a while until Harry, unable to stand the silence anymore burst out, �Why are you keeping me here? Why am I still alive? I don't....I don't understand, what's the point.�

Greyback smirked. �Are you asking me to kill you?�

�No! Never mind.� Harry muttered, ducking his head and toying absently with the soft fur. �How long are you going to keep me here? Are you going to let me go after you've...you know, had your revenge?�

�I'll keep you here however long it takes. Could be weeks, could be years, it depends on how quickly everything falls apart. You will stay here until I'm satisfied...then you will die, I'll deliver your head to the Ministry myself.� Greyback announced casually.

I didn't come as a shock to hear that.

To Harry's surprise he didn't really feel anything. It was like his mind had gone numb, he wasn't sad or angry or scared, he was resolved. Years of wondering when and how he was going to die and now he knew. Not by Voldemorts hands then, but by Fenrir Greyback, a disgruntled ex-henchman of Voldemorts. If it wasn't so pathetic it would be funny.

He almost wished Greyback would just do it now and get it over with. He didn't want to spend possibly years stuck in a forest while his friends, hell the whole wizarding world, wondered and speculated as to what had happened to him. On the other hand...it was almost a relief, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn't have to fight a war or battle any Dark Lords or worry about stupid prophecies, all he had to do was die.

�So that's it then?� Harry murmured to himself.

�Apparently.� Greyback muttered, looking sour.

Harry had to suppress a smirk when he realized Greyback had been expecting a bigger reaction from him. He was actually disappointed by Harry's calm acceptance of his death . Well good, Harry thought, let him be frustrated. It would only be the smallest measure of what he had put Harry through, no frustration on his part could be enough.

�I'm leaving the forest tonight, don't expect me back any time soon.�

�Whatever.�

�I'll expect you not to get into any trouble while I'm gone. Stay out of the forest.�

Harry snorted. �I'll do whatever I damn well please.�

The only warning Harry had before he was smacked to the ground was a loud animal-like growl from Greyback before the back of his hand came crashing down on Harry's cheek and the boy once again found himself sprawled on the ground as white spots danced before his eyes.

�Do you have a death wish, boy?� Greyback ground out.

With a sick chuckle Harry's snide reply was only, �No, I think you got that one covered.�

With a roar Greyback fell on Harry but retained enough good sense not to start beating the defenseless boy, knowing he could easily kill him with on badly placed fist. In stead he chose to hurt him in the way he knew the young one dreaded most.

Harry's smirk fell quickly as Greyback began tearing at the fur that was the only thing protecting his body.

With a horrified cry, Harry began thrashing about, doing his best to avoid the rough hands that pawed roughly at his body. He didn't want this, he could handle anything else but that. Wasn't it enough that he was to die?

�Don't,� Harry cried, pushing at the mans broad, unyielding chest. �Please, I'm not ready.�

Greyback grabbed the boys wrists and effortlessly slammed them to the ground. Harry gasped, thin chest heaving wildly as Greyback lowered himself onto the shaking boy.

�Oh god, don't do this,� Harry begged, writhing uselessly under the mans weight. �It's to soon.�

�You brought this upon yourself.�

A high keening wail pierced the forest, ending as soon as it began. The only sounds to be heard in the otherwise deathly silent forest were the pants and groans of the big man as he pistoned in and out of the young ones abused body, caring little about his own pleasure, only the punishment the act was meant as. He drove in with an icy single mindedness: to hurt.

From the young one, ceaseless sobbing that filled the otherwise silent forest with the sounds of misery and pain that was broken only by sharp cries when the big man thrust too deep. It went on for far to long and by the time it was nearly over the small body lay motionless, being jerked back and forth with the force of the big mans thrusts. The ground beneath him was stained red.

Greyback didn't release. He carried on until he was to tired and pulled out, still hard and dissatisfied. Without so much as a backwards glance the man stood up, turned on his heel and left.

Harry was afraid. He was in pain but even more so he was terrified to feel the amount of blood that slicked his thighs and soaked the ground beneath him. Greyback had hurt him terribly and Harry shrieked hysterically, trying to curl his unresponsive legs up and being unable to.

�Don't leave me here!� Harry screamed frantically to Greyback rapidly retreating back. �Come back! Please don't leave me!�

Fingers scrabbled at the mossy ground, Harry trying desperately to lift himself away from the bloody patch of ground until terror and exhaustion overtook him and he lay on the forest floor, shaking terribly and praying for someone to come and help him, even if it was only Greyback.

Nobody did.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Fenrir was shaken. He walked as swiftly away from the boy, traveling further into the forest to get away from his screams and cries. The boy wouldn't die, he knew, there was blood but it wasn't life threatening. It was fear that drove those screams more than pain but that didn't mean it didn't send a cold chill down his spine.

This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. He had, murdered, tortured, raped, everything Voldemort asked of him but never before had he felt this horrible twisting pit in his stomach. Never had he wished he could take it back.

This must be what they called guilt. Guilt for nothing more than a pathetic slip of a boy, no different that the hundreds others he had either killed or turned, just a boy with bright green eyes. So why? Maybe Harry Potter was cursed after all, curse with the ability to turn those around him into weak, starry eyed puppets. It wouldn't surprise him, what with all the rumors and speculation surrounding the boy. After all, what fifteen year old could possibly be the rallying point of the Light unless he had some sort of untold powers.

Fenrir snorted to himself as he imagined the boy as some sort of angelic presence. What utter nonsense was this? Harry Potter was no more an angel than he was and he certainly had no special powers beyond any normal wizard. After all, what sort of angel or savior would let themselves be sullied with the likes of him? He was a weak child that had been put on a pedestal by a frightened people, nothing more.

Still, it couldn't hurt to make it up to the boy somehow. Maybe he would buy him some sweets.

But that would have to come later. For now, his time belonged to the moon.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Three days later found Fenrir trudging his way through the forest once again, still feeling the rush of the hunt and the leftover tingling throughout his body from the Change. His mood was slightly dampened with the embarrassment of carrying an enormous bag on his back, filled to the brim with things he had bought for the boy.

He had done something that so many years ago he had sworn never to do. He had returned to the wizarding world, dressed in robes and with a bag full of gold that had been kept by his late pack for emergencies. Nobody had recognized him, washed and groomed as he had been.

Within hours his gold was greatly diminished. He had only set out to buy a bag of sweets he thought the boy would like and ended up buying everything short of a new wand for the little bastard.

Now that he was actually back in the forest he was very much tempted to throw the bag away and pretend this foolishness had never happened. He felt like an idiot. What was he hoping to accomplish by this? Did it really matter if the boy was happy or that he looked at him with less than mind numbing terror?

All the way back to the cave Fenrir argued with himself until it was too late to turn back. He stopped and stared, feeling an alien sense of uncertainty.

There was the boy, sitting outside the cave, staring directly into his soul with those hypnotic green eyes. The little one curled up slowly as he came closer, lowering his eyes until the were entirely hidden beneath his lashes. Dark bruises stood out dark against his pale skin and gave Fenrir pause, he could smell the fear and pain hanging stale in the air and for once he didn't like it.

With no words at all the boy had thoroughly shamed him.

�Look at me.� Fenrir commanded softly.

The boy pulled the fur tighter around his trembling body. It had given Fenrir a strange jolt when he had first seen the boy, draped in the fur of one of his many dead pack mates. He couldn't even recognize half of them but he knew that one, his second in command, Skoll. When he had first seen the boy wearing his second in commands skin his first instinct was to beat the boy for his insolence but, strangely enough, he let it be. At least Skoll was serving a purpose again, even it was only to comfort and warm a boy marked for death.

�I said look at me, Harry.� Slowly the boys head lifted. Those pretty eyes were dull and dark rimmed, blank with fear. Fenrir sighed and threw the bag down on the ground with a thud. �It's for you.�

Harry simply looked at the bag, not making a move to touch it.

Fenrir stayed until the uncomfortable tension was finally to much. It was a stupid idea. With a deep frown etched on his face the man turned away and walked back into the forest. The boy had bewitched him, he knew it.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry could hardly keep himself from retreating back into the cave when he heard Greybacks footsteps coming at him. It had been with a strange mix of fear and relief when he locked eyes with the wild man, feeling as though his amber eyes were drilling in to his soul.

He was the first to break away, shrinking onto himself and locking his eyes to the ground. His body still remembered what had been done to it and urged him to run and hide, while his mind was desperate for contact. Years at Hogwarts had left him unable to deal with isolation like he once had, the loneliness ate at him even while he was to afraid to lift his eyes at the half growled command Greyback gave to look at him.

�I said look at me, Harry.�

The use of his name startled him into looking. Almost immediately he wished he hadn't. The man was far to close and looked more dangerous and wild than usual. Terror welled up in him at the thought that Greyback might want him again so soon. He didn't think he could do it again, to be pushed to the ground and forced to give his body over to an act he neither wanted nor consented to.

Harry's eyes fell to the ground and he prayed that whatever the man choose he wouldn't hurt him. He couldn't fight, it was to hard.

He was so preoccupied that Harry could barely summon up a reaction when Greyback threw a large bag at his feet. Was it for him? Did this mean Greyback wasn't going to take him now? He didn't want to get his hopes up, just as likely he would open the bag and find whips and chains.

It took him a second to realize Greyback was gone and he had been staring at the bag for a good five minutes, imagining all the bad things that could happen. What had happened to him? Oh right, Greyback had happened to him.

�This is stupid.� Harry whispered to himself, eying the bag suspiciously. �Just open the damn thing.�

With a deep breath Harry grabbed the bag and threw open the flap. Sitting on top was a most unexpected and welcome sight. A shiny new box of chocolate frogs.

Carefully, he took the box in his hands, feeling strangely choked up at the familiar sight. It was just so...normal, it didn't belong in this hell that Greyback had created for him.

Harry put the box on the ground, trying not to think of Ron and Hermione as he did.

Harry turned his attention back to the bag and began pulling out item after item of perfectly normal items, feeling a deep burning homesickness with every discovery. It was the Quidditch magazine that finally did it. He had put in an order for it just a week before, desperate to see the new broom model that was about to be released next year. Ron had practically been foaming at the mouth over it, spending hours talking about the broom until Harry finally had to tell him to shut up, and Hermione, naturally, couldn't care less. He missed them so much.

Eyes swimming with tears, Harry continued to pull out the strange gifts. A new set of robes, a pack of wizard cards, several items from the joke shop, as many different chocolates and candies as he could ever want, even shampoo.

It was...nice. Bizarre, but strangely thoughtful. A piss poor way of making up for all that Greyback had done to him but it was something, right? Harry highly doubted Voldemort or Malfoy would do half as much, hell, if it was either of those two Harry doubted he'd be conscious enough to care.

...All things considered Greyback was a decent captor. It wasn't like he had really hurt him, he wasn't dead or permanently damaged and Greyback had even cooked breakfast for him before. That was something.

It could be worse, so much worse. He could bear it...even if Greyback wanted to use him. He could lay quiet and just let it happen. It would make the rest of his life easier. He could live out the rest of his days in a beautiful forest with a semi tolerable werewolf. No Voldemort, no Malfoys, no Snape, not even any Dumbledore's. It was a fair trade off, wasn't it? Living out the rest of his days peacefully in exchange for letting Greyback take him? Eating chocolate frogs and cockroach clusters and reading Quidditch magazines until the day came.

It could be better but it could also be much much worse.

Harry heaved a sigh. How did his life get so messed up?

He sat by the cave well until night, taking stock of all of his new treasures. When the moon finally revealed itself Harry put all the items carefully back in the bag and heaved his sore body up, taking the bag with him. It was dark in the cave but Harry had come to view it almost as a sanctuary, it was dark and warm and the furs comforted him.

Lighting a small lamp, Harry took the chest out from under the bed and began arranging his new treasures inside, nibbling on a lemon flavored candy as he worked. He left the Quidditch magazine out and a new robe in a red so dark it was almost black. How Greyback knew his size Harry would never know.

�Boy!�

Harry jumped, swallowing the candy convulsively and banging his knees against the bed.

�Put your toys away.�

Eye's watering, Harry closed the chest lid and pushed it under the bed. He knelt for longer than he normally would have, clinging to the bed and trying to quell the nervous tremors running throughout him.

When he stood it was with far more bravery and composure than he felt as he faced the big man. The lined face looked forbidding in the flickering lamplight, like a demon. Harry had to mentally smack himself for letting him imagination run away like that. Greyback was no demon, he was just a, well, a werewolf. Not much better.

Harry fidgeted, bare feet curling up into the furs beneath him as Greybacks eyes roamed over his body, barely covered by the fur. He wished he had thought to put on the robe sooner.

�Drop the fur,� Greyback commanded in a husky voice.

He hesitated for only a moment, remembering what defiance had gotten him last time. The fur slipped reluctantly off his shoulders, dropping softly to the ground and leaving him utterly alone with that amber stare dissecting him.

Harry stood stiff as a board, feeling the hysteria rising with each passing second that Greyback did nothing but stare at him as if he were a piece of meat. Harry cautiously brought his hands forward to cover himself when Greyback roared at him to �Stay where you are!� Harry flinched, shifting nervously from foot to foot and trying to see through the moisture blurring his vision.

�I have to admit, you are pretty, even if you are a bit...old for my tastes.� Greyback declared sauntering forward.

The boy had to force himself not to run, not to fight as the big man took his by his shoulders and pushed him towards the bed. Oh god, he didn't want to do it there. This was supposed to be his safe place. Why did he have to take that away?

Firmly, Harry was driven on to the bed. He was sure Greyback could feel the tremors under his hands, he was shaking like a leaf as he was pushed on to his back and forced to spread his legs as the cruel man settled between his parted thighs.

The tears finally spilled over. Harry made himself lay passive as his hips were lifted and that familiar heated flesh pressed against his bottom, though he couldn't stop his arms from wrapping themselves around his middle in an unmistakable gesture of self protection. It was when Greyback finally began pushing in that Harry cracked, flinging his hands out to push at the broad shoulders, crying out as his his hips twisted away from the seeking member.

�Nononono! It hurts!�

Greyback grabbed Harry's arms, pinning them down above his head with one hand, holding them there until the boys frantic cries subsided to whimpering pleas. He gently stroked the child's thick hair with his clawed hand and licked his neck, though Harry cringed.

If he was going to be honest Greyback would admit the sudden way Harry had reacted bothered him somewhat. He was unreasonably scared. Greyback expected nervousness and tears, especially considering the virgin state the boy had only recently been in. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to prepare the boy, maybe use something to make him slick inside.

Greyback stood up, leaving Harry, who didn't move except for to curl into a ball, on the bed. He walked over the the corner and rummaged around in a bag of supplies, pulling out a little used jar of oil.

Harry moaned fearfully when he returned, flipping him onto his back again and opening the jar. He made sure his fingers were fully coated before pressing them into the boys sore entrance, using only two fingers. He did his best not to hurt or unnecessarily frighten Harry but he still cried out and had to be restrained as Greyback slowly massaged his insides.

Greyback was persistent and continued to carefully and gently open the boy and was rewarded when the crying finally stopped, though the pitiful little hiccups continued. The twisting and scissoring went on until Harry lay quiet, hands fisted into the furs of the bed, back heaving and damp with sweat. Beautiful.

A sudden heat flared in his belly when Harry gasped, arching his back in pleasure as Greyback purposefully hit that sweet spot he knew would make the boy melt.

�W-what?� Harry gasped, twisting his hips in surprise.

Greyback pushed the boy down without a word and slowly mounted him. Any pleasure the boy had been feeling was overshadowed by pure terror as the large man pressed him into the mattress. This wouldn't do, Greyback thought, he didn't think he could stomach much more of this constant fear. It was in the air, invading his nose with it's thick, oily smell, making him nauseous. But was it any wonder, really? All the boy had known of sex up to this point was pain and forced submission. That would soon have to change.

Harry squealed as Greyback pushed into him, breaching his sore, swollen entrance. He forced himself still, allowing the big man to use him with a force of will he didn't know he had. It was impossible to blank his mind to what was being done to him, he was aware of every movement, when that column of flesh stabbed to deep and forced an involuntary sob from him, or when it brushed that spot that made him quiver in pleasure. He didn't know which was worse.

It seemed to go on for hours. Harry jumped in surprised when Greyback finally dug his sharp claws into his hips, spilling himself inside of Harry.

They hung in time for a moment as Greyback relished in the euphoric daze of orgasm while Harry lay beneath him, feeling the organ softening and trying to ignore the painful throbbing.

Finally it was over. The soft flesh slipped out and Greyback collapsed on top of him, crushing his smaller frame against the bed. Harry waited patiently for Greyback to leave but after a few minutes all he did was roll off of Harry, grab him around the waist and yank the startled boy back against his hard chest.

Harry was still while Greyback snored softly into his hair. Harry couldn't say the same of himself. Greyback was supposed to leave him alone after he was done, go off and do whatever it was werewolves do, not cuddle as if Harry was his lover.

It could have been comforting and reassuring, the steady breathing behind him and the heavy weight of Greyback's arm around his middle...but it wasn't. He was sore and hungry and, above all, lonely. Greyback only made it worse, his only companion but distant and aggressive towards him. He didn't allow Harry to harbor any illusions that he was anything but a tool, and an unwelcome one at that.

Harry slowly drifted off, miserable and defeated, letting the deep thrumming of Greybacks heartbeat relax him as he slept.

A/N: This is my very first HP/FG and came about while trying to get over a bad case of writers block. In light of the fact that I have a bad habit of not finishing what I start I'm probably only making this into a TWO-SHOT, possibly three ^^

Hope you enjoyed and don't worry, the non-con and angst won't last.

And remember, feedback is a writers best friend....XD
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The Wolf and the Sheep