An Endless Void, Filled. | By : Desari_of_Thebes Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 6984 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2 |
Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own the Harry Potter universe and all rights go to JK Rowlings. I make no money from these writings |
Prologue
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It had been ten long years since Harry Potter, at the tender age of 17, defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort. Ten busy, stress filled years of slowly building his life back up. Hells, of building himself back to something resembling sane since becoming the beast he was now. Now, looking at the joy filled faces of his fellow pack members as the shrill cry of the first lungful of a new cubs air cut through the tiny hidden valley they called home, he knew it was all worth it.
Every agonizing moment, every tear, every dission that broke his heart because it was everything he had to do to become himself. It was all blessedly worth it as he heard the whoops of his pack members as their midwife, Ohhanra, exited the new parents’ home, a screaming bundle in her arms as she walked towards where he stood at the ‘head’ spot around the bonfire that had been lit since Ryan went into labor.
“Alpha,” She said, half bowing as best she could with the squirming bundle, “May I present to you Thierry, son of Megra and her mate Ryan,”
Harry took the babe from her arms and peered down at the angry red and winkled face, feeling a real, carefree smile on his face for the first time in years.
“Hello Thierry, I accept you into my pack as I have your parents, may you grow here in the protection of our walls into a wolf worthy of a mate,” Harry said reverently, tears coming to his eyes as the babe quieted and turned its head in their all too instinctual way. Even those who had no clue what they were, though they were few and far apart, turned and bared their necks when presented with an alpha. Harry gently bent and kissed the exposed, and still wet, he dimly noticed, skin of Thierry’s throat as a sign of his acceptance. Everyone ran around him then, eager for a look at their new and littlest pack member.
Thierry was the first pup conceived and born in the small, tight-knit pack. Several other members were also expecting now, and Harry couldn’t wait for the sounds of pups running free and safe in their valley, was yearning for the time when they would play and run under foot. It was a sign that he’d finally achieved everything he’d been striving for in these past ten years.
Family. Love. Future. Life.
So why, surrounded by all that, did something still feel missing?
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Draco Malfoy stared out a window in the tiny hut hidden deep in the Scottish Highlands that had been his house since he was 4. When his mother had run away from his father when he’d accepted some Dark Lord into their home to live as a war he didn’t remember drew to a close. It lacked any sort of elegance that his mother would talk of in her sleep, about a large manor and servants and a life of ease.
In honesty Draco didn’t understand any of it; he didn’t remember his life before they lived in this tiny, decrepit space. His mother never talked about it when she was awake, and he’d learned long ago not to ask, it only brought tears. Her’s of sorrow, his of frustration.
Even when the war ended she had refused to leave, choosing instead to keep him hidden. Something to do, no doubt, with the heat he went into every full moon like some bitch dog. Concidering that each time it happened his mother refused to look at him, always glancing with shame in her eyes, and every small infraction Draco created earned him a swift backhand to the face, her screaming obscenities at him until it was him who was in tears.
Now 17 he found himself restless, some unnamable emotion running beneath his skin that urged him to go, run, do something damnit. Going into heat only ever made it worse, because he could never fully satisfy himself, no matter how much he masturbated, no matter how many of his own damn fingers were filling his leaking ass, it was never enough. Draco wanted out, to see other people, to find out why he was as he was, to find a cure if one was possible.
Draco always thought of it as a cure because he knew he was dying. With each passing month he was growing weaker, tired. Some part deep within him dying from lack of… Lack of satisfaction, of peace.
Draco nearly cried as the sun set in the distance, tendrils of arousal insidiously crawling up his being. His lithe, tiny body writhed on his bed as his cock grew impossibly hard, his hole clenched, needy and aching to be filled. He could feel the self-lubrication of his ass kicking in, leaking down his thighs as he gave into the tears that clouded his vision.
He wasn’t going to survive this time. He just knew it.
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Surrounding the Malfoy hut, shifted wolves scented the air, pawing restlessly as they waited for the order to attack. Their Alpha panted as the scent of a sweet Omega in obvious heat melted into the scent of the rich forest. The Malfoy bitch would die, and her son be made their whore, and their pack would finally be ready to take on that outrageous farce of a werewolve pack lead by the once Savior of the wizarding world.
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