Disclaimer: See first chapter!

Author's Note: So this is it, the last chapter... I hope you are not too disappointed, and sorry for updating late again.

Warnings for this chapter: Lemon, that means explicit descriptions of sex. I decided to leave the chapter unedited for once, so don't sue me #laugh#. I marked the beginning and the end of the scene, so if you don't want to read something like that, just skip it. But I'm afraid the whole chapter is rather... ehm... naughty...

Beta: jharad17, thank you for all your help with this story!

Sequel: Basic Wants


When Fenrir woke again, it was to the sound of rattling breath which came steadily closer. Maybe it was due to him being a werewolf, but the Dementors didn't affect him like they did other prisoners. He wasn't scared of them, and he only ever felt slightly uncomfortable in their presence. The prevailing feeling in him was always the urge to rip out their throats and watch them turn to ash.

Insatiable, disgusting pests!

Their nightly patrols disturbed his sleep only because the other prisoners moaned and muttered as the Dementors approached, then screamed and shivered, begged and pleaded for mercy that would never come.

It took him a moment to realise he had fallen asleep and another two to become aware of the warm, comforting weight on his chest. Harry had stayed the night; Harry had fallen asleep in his arms!

But something wasn't right. Harry was trembling and mumbling words like "no" and "don't" and "please," while his nails dug into his palms and tears rolled down his face. Yet the Dementors had not even reached their corridor.

Fenrir gave Harry's shoulder a gentle nudge, turning it into a shake when Harry showed no reaction. "Harry?" A whimper was his only reply. "Damnit, little one, wake up!"

He earned only a shudder and a drawn-out "Nooooo. . ."

"Come on, Harry, wake up..."

Fenrir futilely tried to shake Harry awake, but that just furthered the youngster's distress. He held the green-eyed boy close to his body, rocking him as he had seen mothers do with their children, made what he deemed reassuring sounds. By the time the Dementors passed his cell, Harry had fainted, his face wet with tears and his hands clutching bunches of silver hair. Fenrir was annoyed and more than a little protective.

They had hurt his little wolf!

"Wha..." Harry's voice was still choked with tears when his eyes fluttered open a good half hour later. "Oh."

He blushed when he found himself lying on top of Fenrir, safely enclosed in his strong arms, but made no move to do anything about it, instead burying his face against the werewolf's neck, crying silently.

Fenrir uncertainly patted Harry's back, gentling the pats when Harry winced under the force of them.

"I see everyone die again when they come close," Harry whispered a while later. "And I see my trial again and Voldemort's torture sessions. It's just a little much all at once, you know? I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't." Fenrir shrugged. "They don't affect me, but I still hear the other prisoners."

"Oh, then I'm sorry for lying on you. Do you want me to leave?"

"Stupid little human," Fenrir rebuked him. "Do you really think I would let you go? Besides, it's not your fault you have nightmares. Now calm down."

He pressed his lips to Harry's forehead, rubbing his bearded cheek over Harry's smooth one, and was relieved when Harry snickered in response instead of drawing back.

"That tickles," Harry murmured, skidding lower so he could listen to Fenrir's heart beat. "Fen? I've been thinking, and maybe... Do you think if Voldemort doesn't kill me, I could come with you?"

"Where else would you go, you silly little wolf?" Fenrir grumbled. "I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here if I have to, and Voldemort won't dare to harm you. You're pack now."

Harry's face lit up in a brilliant smile that made Fenrir's blood pool in his nether regions, and he shifted, hoping Harry wouldn't notice his excitement for fear that he would leave again.

"Really? And you'll let Remus stay as well?" Harry asked pleadingly, and Fenrir nodded with difficulty. "Thank you, Fen." Harry hugged him tightly, snuggling into his broad chest. "Maybe there is something worth escaping for, what do you think?"

"I think I'm quite content right now." Fenrir's voice was rougher and hoarser than usual, and then he gave in to his more primal needs and spun them around so Harry's was pinned under his larger frame, held safely in place.

"What...?" Harry stared up at him in surprise.

"I'm going to kiss you now, little wolf," Fenrir declared before doing just that, pressing his lips to Harry's in a kiss full of passion and desperation and possessiveness, while grinding his body against Harry's.

Harry froze like a skittish animal faced with the sharp jaws of a predator, and the werewolf felt the large green eyes stare at him in wonder and fear. But he didn't mind, didn't care because he had made his choice. He would never let Harry walk away from him to be claimed by someone else, and he wanted this to be more than a platonic relationship. Caution and patience was overrated, especially after almost six months of waiting.

There was just something about Harry that held him absolutely spellbound and still drew him in deeper, every time he looked into those emerald-green eyes. His little wolf was like the irresistible call of the moon; less intrusive, less commanding, but no less compelling.

Harry's hands were pushing against his chest, but he barely noticed as he plundered Harry's sweet mouth and allowed his own hands to roam over Harry's body and even under his coveralls. The black-haired man mumbled something like a protest, but it turned out to be a half-whimper, when Fenrir's teeth grazed his lips.

Suddenly, Fenrir howled in pain, protectively holding his lower stomach. His groin stung with a biting cold, and he stared down at Harry's glowing-blue hands and angry eyes, while Harry glared back at him reproachfully.

"I hope that cooled you down. I told you, I'm not going to pay for your friendship in this currency," Harry said coldly. "I think we'll call it a day, Greyback."

"I was merely taking the next step," Fenrir gasped out between painful breaths, moving to block the door to prevent Harry from leaving. "I wasn't taking advantage of you, I was just kissing you. Don't you know the difference, you stupid cub?"

"I know the difference between being pressed into moulding straw with a heavy body almost suffocating me and a real kiss where I have a choice and actually want to participate," Harry hissed at him. "But obviously it's you who doesn't know the difference!"

"Well, excuse me, but it's been a while since I kissed anyone, and it's unlikely I'll find someone else to kiss in the near future..."

"So I'm just a transitional solution until you find someone else?" Harry asked incredulously. "Well, that's flattering."

"Don't be stupid, Harry!" Fenrir growled in annoyance. "I'm an Alpha, I have to take responsibility, and I can't just hop in and out of my pack members' beds just because the fancy strikes me. I'll always protect and take care of my pack and that means you as well."

"I know that." Harry sighed in frustration. "Merlin, Fenrir, can't you just... do you always have to... Damnit, I don't like to be forced, I don't like to be held down, and I don't like be reminded of-" He broke off abruptly, changing the subject. "You must be lonely."

"Harry... yes, I miss my pack." Fenrir shook his head. "What is it you don't want to be reminded of?"

"No, I didn't mean that. You never allowed yourself to let anyone get close to you because you feared a relationship would influence your decisions and compromise the safety of your pack." Harry said, caressing Fenrir's cheek.

"I'm a good Alpha," Fenrir replied tersely, by way of acknowledgement.

It was true after all; being an Alpha often meant being alone. For as long as he could remember, he had never had anyone to confide in, and emotional attachment was a foreign concept. He was the leader, he had the responsibility, and his needs always came last, though outwardly he had all the power. But he still missed his pack, he missed having others to care for, and he didn't want to screw this up with Harry. Harry's needs came before his, again.

Harry nodded, butting noses with the werewolf. "I don't doubt it, but it's obvious you have no idea of how to treat your lover. Suffocating me with your bulk of a body is not what I would call even remotely enjoyable." Harry scowled at him. "If you think I will stand for that kind of treatment you have another thing coming."

Fenrir stared into Harry's smouldering eyes, wondering what he could do to make Harry see reason. Then he kissed Harry. This time the kiss wasn't desperate and demanding, but gentle and sweet and almost questioning.

Harry's lips were like velvet under his, smooth and warm and full, and offered no resistance to his probing tongue, moving timidly under his own rougher and harder ones. He tried to rein in his passions, but he couldn't stop his hands from snaking around Harry's thin waist, drawing the slender man closer to his own body.

Harry put his arms around Fenrir's neck, tangling his fingers in his silver hair, and for the first time in a long time he felt warm and sheltered. A soft moan escaped his mouth, and Fenrir, encouraged by this, deepened the kiss until their tongues were battling for dominance.

Eventually Fenrir drew back a little, just enough for both of them to gasp for breath, but kept his arms around Harry.

"Good kiss?" the werewolf demanded with a smirk as he noticed Harry's flushed cheeks. "Or should I try again?"

"Shut up before I think better of it" Harry retorted, narrowing his eyes at him. "You wanted to take care of me."

"I wanted to do more than that," Fenrir offered cautiously, nibbling on Harry's ear.

"What's stopping you?" Harry murmured. "I believe you promised me once you could make me crave your kisses and your touch. Prove it!"

Fenrir's growl resounded in the small cell as he pounced on Harry, carried him over to the straw bed, where he covered the lithe body with his own. Meanwhile, his mouth devoured Harry's and his hands wandered over Harry's chest and hips, stroking and caressing and eliciting soft moans from the younger man.

"Are you sure you want this, cub?" he still asked, afraid Harry would panic or get angry again.

"I'm sure I told you not to call me 'cub'," Harry replied evenly. "Now, what's is it going to be, big bad wolf? Either we have sex now or we escape from here, but we're not going to talk anymore."

"You changed your opinion rather quickly, didn't you, sweet one?" Fenrir murmured in between harsh nips and gentle kisses to Harry's neck. "What happened to not wanting to pay for my protection?"

"This is not payment, this is fun, pleasure, whatever you want to call it, purely selfish, in any event. I didn't agree earlier because you didn't give me a chance to agree," Harry sounded exasperated and pushed Fenrir slightly away so he could look at him, taking Fenrir's head between his pale white hands. "You care about me, yes? Great, I like you as well. You make me feel safe, and maybe you can make me feel alive as well, or something other than betrayal and hopelessness. Do you think you can do that, Fen, or do I need to find someone else?"

"You bet I can," Fenrir growled possessively, thinking to himself he would prevent Harry from ever finding someone else again.

Harry released Fenrir's head, teasingly fluttered his eyes, and arched up into him. His hands skimmed over his own body in a seductive dance, thin fingers tracing the subtle pectoral muscles and circling the dusty pink nipples, as he sighed blissfully.

Fenrir watched in fascination, too transfixed to do anything but stare. Harry's pale skin gleamed in the moonlight, like moonlight itself. Fenrir felt the wolf in him rise closer to the surface, urging him to touch and taste and do indescribable things to his little wolf. Harry had slipped his coveralls from his shoulders, pushing the shirt to his waist, giving Fenrir a perfect view on his upper body. Another soft moan alerted Fenrir to one of Harry's hands that had disappeared under the waistband, following the sprinkling of dark hair that led to Harry's manhood.

"Fen!" Harry whined, stopping his teasing and looked expectantly up at him. "How many invitations do you need? I didn't think this would turn into a one-man-show. Do you want me or not?"

Instead of a verbal answer, the werewolf pounced. He batted Harry's hand away from the delectable body and pinned both of them over his head with as much gentleness as he could muster. Harry sent him an almost evil grin, bucking up against him, and tried to free his wrists to no avail, while twisting and turning underneath Fenrir, seemingly unintentionally rubbing against the werewolf and making him growl long and loud, all but howling.

Harry started. "Wait. I want to ward the cell if you're going to be so vocal."

"I've no problem with being overheard," Fenrir grumbled, but he released Harry's hands so he could do his little magic tricks. "You couldn't have thought of this earlier, could you? No, you had to get me all hot and bothered first."

Harry grinned. "Exactly. Besides, you were 'all hot and bothered' from the very beginning. Now, move a little, I have to see the door, and you're in the way."

Fenrir reluctantly moved away from his soon-to-be lover, watching with jealous eyes as Harry focused briefly on the silver bars and then imperiously waved his hands at them, covering them with a purple sheen that was absorbed into the silver. With another look around the cell, Harry scowled unhappily at the dingy atmosphere, and even more at the dirty straw.

Fenrir noticed the look and gruffly pulled Harry back into his arms. "Don't turn into a girl now, Harry."

"I just want it to be clean," Harry murmured absently. "Don't worry, Fen, roses and candlelight are not my kind of thing..."

He picked up a piece of straw, twirled it between his fingers, then let it drop. He held his hands over the remaining straw, which slowly turned back into its original golden colour, smelling just as fresh and clean as new. Then he repaired the blanket and cleaned it, and Fenrir was surprised to see it was blue and not, as he had always thought, a greyish-brown.

Harry finally declared himself satisfied with a, "That's better," and Fenrir was eager to finally get on with it. But Harry gave him a sideways smile. "Now for you."

"Excuse me?" Fenrir spluttered, capturing Harry's hands again before he could use his magic on him. "What is that supposed to mean? I am clean."

"You're wearing far too many clothes," Harry stated, tearing free from his grasp and reaching for Fenrir's coveralls, where the fabric barely managed to stretch over Fenrir's broad shoulder.

But the werewolf had finally had enough and stripped down to his naked skin on his own, shredding his coveralls along the way. He then made quick work of Harry's clothes as well.

The black-haired man laughed. "Finally. I had almost given up hope for you... Show me what you've got, wolfie."

The golden eyes sparkled dangerously, but Harry only sprawled out on the new straw, spread for him to see, using the rolled up blanket for a pillow.

Fenrir growled, letting himself fall onto Harry - or at least intending to - except Harry slipped out from under him, using Fenrir's temporary confusion and imbalance to reverse their positions.

"Now, now, Fen, who said you were going to be on top?" Harry taunted, gently tracing Fenrir's jawline with one finger before leaning down to nip along his neck and throat.

The silver-haired man snarled angrily, successfully switching their positions again. "I'm stronger than you, I'm older than you, I'm your Alpha, and you're a skinny little wizard whose magic doesn't work on me. Of course I'm going to top."

"I don't spread my legs for just anyone," Harry said sternly, trying to sidle out from under him.

"I know, but I'm not just anyone, am I?" Fenrir whispered in Harry's ear.

"No, I guess you're not." Harry smiled, relaxing into the straw.

"You guess?" The werewolf warningly nipped Harry's ear. "I'm your Alpha, my little wolf, and I'm going to fuck you until you're sore and don't know anymore if you should beg for me to stop or to fuck you even harder. I've had enough of your games. Will you behave now, or do I have to become unpleasant?"

"Fuck me harder," Harry returned with a smirk, somehow managing to wrap his legs around Fenrir's waist. "We've wasted too much time already, my Alpha."


Fenrir groaned in something between lust and satisfaction at hearing Harry acknowledge him as his Alpha, but was also stupidly relieved when Harry stayed put as he cautiously let up on him, just enough to be able to enter the suddenly so pliant and willing body.

How often had Harry done this, anyway? He hoped dearly Harry wasn't a virgin, but at the same time, a selfish little voice in his mind wished Harry was one, so Fenrir would, for always, be the only one to claim this moonlight beauty. But how much experience Harry had was hardly an issue he wanted to deal with now, and they had done enough foreplay and stalling for his taste. Still, Fenrir wasn't exactly on the small side, and Harry didn't look like he could take him in without any preparation or lubrication. Yet Fenrir didn't have the time or patience for the former, nor the means for the latter.

Harry solved this problem for him, however, as he drew Fenrir's left hand into his mouth and swiftly sucked two of his long fingers, coating them with saliva. He then released Fenrir's hand and immediately turned his attention to Fenrir's manhood, bending at an impossible angle to gently lap at it, covering it in saliva and driving the werewolf to the edge of orgasm.

Goddess, but the little minx knew what he was doing! Fenrir groaned, hastily pushing one wet finger into Harry, who tensed and choked around his erection when a scream wanted to rip from his throat. Fenrir threaded the fingers of his other hand through Harry's soft inky hair and tugged lightly, making Harry stop and look up at him in askance.

"I want to come inside of you, little one," Fenrir stated, lifting his hand to his mouth and biting in his palm so blood gushed over his palm and ran down his arm.

Harry made a sound between disgust and distress, his eyes widening when Fenrir slicked his erection with blood, and shuddered when blood dripped on his stomach.

"Fen, you're not going to stick that into me..." Harry's protests were cut short as the werewolf jerked the finger out of Harry and, with one quick thrust, replaced it with his much larger erection. In one smooth motion, he buried himself to the hilt, eliciting a loud keen from Harry.

"Bastard," the younger man ground out. Pain flared up his spine as he shifted. "Bastard," he whimpered once again, trying to somehow adjust to Fenrir's length inside of him, breathing slowly and deeply to relax his muscles or to at least master the pain.

It shouldn't have been so hard to take, after all the pain he had experienced in his life, he decided, but somehow knowing he had provoked this, asked for it, combined with the nauseating smell of blood, intensified the pain, and nearly brought tears to his eyes.

"That shut you up, did it?" Fenrir commented gruffly, but his hands caressing Harry's body were gentle, and he made sure not to move his hips or jostle Harry. "Stupid, little wolf, talking big and then not ready to face the consequences. Silly, little human."

Harry sent him a weak glare, but was otherwise too preoccupied with the pain to form any kind of reply.

Fenrir studied Harry's drawn face with concern. Damnit, he shouldn't have acted out of an impulse! Now Harry was in pain, and he wasn't any nearer to release than before.

"Fen?" Harry whispered after a few minutes. As he carefully rolled his hips, a grimace of pain flitted over his face. "You better make me feel good now, or I might never let you touch me again."

"Of course, with pleasure." Fenrir smirked, swooping down to press a kiss to Harry's pink lips before carefully pulling out a little and then thrusting back in.

Harry groaned, still mostly pain, but with the following thrusts, his discomfort eased, and he began to respond more, encouraging Fenrir to go faster, harder, deeper.

Fenrir's answer was to set up a deep, hard rhythm, pistoning in and out of the slight body, angling his movements slightly until a pleasure-filled moan reached his sensitive ears. Harry jerked underneath him, his nails scraping over Fenrir's shoulders and his back. One of Harry's pale hands reached for his own manhood, but Fenrir batted it away, leaving a trail of dark red blood on Harry's hip.

"You'll come from my touch, and my touch alone, my little wolf," he growled. "Don't touch what is mine!"

Harry's eyes snapped open to glare at him, but a punishing thrust from Fenrir sent him back into the realms of all-consuming pleasure, and he wailed lowly. He met the werewolf's next thrust with a cautious push of his hips, managing to take Fenrir in even deeper with this new angle, a slight burning pain accompanying the pleasure it brought him.

Fenrir looked down on the pale beauty smeared in blood, feeling his control slipping, and his thrusts became almost frantic. He wrapped his hand around Harry's leaking manhood, stroking it roughly, until the younger man came, tensing and shuddering and keening. The heat around Fenrir's manhood, the fine rippling muscles and the sight of Harry's convulsing form pushed him over the edge, and he spilled his load inside the tight, little wizard, howling his pleasure and Harry's name out into the night.


He carefully pulled out, taking in the bloody mess between Harry's thighs with a slight frown. It was not only his own blood that he had used as lubrication, but also Harry's, though thankfully not so much as to cause real worry. He gently shifted Harry's prone form so he could spoon around him, drawing him to his chest and tenderly patting the sable hair. Fenrir knew their mating had been forceful even to the point of being brutal, and he wanted Harry to wake and know he was cared for and cherished and not just a vessel for him to satisfy his sexual urges.

Harry's breathing was even and deep, telling Fenrir he had slipped into a peaceful slumber and wouldn't wake anytime soon. While he studied Harry's sleeping face, he thought it might go over better if Harry didn't awaken covered in blood, as much as the sight aroused Fenrir. Thus, he scooted lower, spreading Harry's thighs again, and slowly licked Harry clean of blood and semen that slowly trickled out of him. Harry shifted, a soft sigh escaping his lips, but he didn't wake, even when Fenrir finished licking his lower body and continued on to his stomach and chest, then cleaned off the few splatters of blood that had landed on Harry's neck, shoulder and face.

Fenrir was beginning to worry that something was wrong, when Harry finally woke up and sent him a lazy smile. "Hey," Harry mumbled, rolling around and wincing in slight pain.

"Hey, you too," Fenrir replied gruffly, absently tracing Harry's spine with one finger. "Are you okay? I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"Maybe a little." The green-eyed wizard shrugged indifferently. "I feel good. I feel."

"I had noticed," Fenrir said with a chuckle, earning himself a swat on the arm.

"I believe you enjoyed yourself as well," Harry returned, snuggling into Fenrir's arms. "Thanks for cleaning off the blood. I just can't stand it, I've seen too much of it in my life."

"We needed some kind of lubrication, more than just your spit," the silver-haired man explained, not quite apologetically. "I would have torn you to shreds otherwise."

"I know." Harry shrugged again, "But I could have done a Lubrication Charm. You needn't have hurt yourself."

Fenrir laughed, showing off his unharmed hands. "Hurt myself, little one? Never heard of werewolf healing, have you?"

"Just because you heal fast doesn't mean you don't feel the pain, does it?" Harry argued softly, kissing his chest. "Fen, I didn't mean to offend you, you know that, right?"

"Of course, I know, my little moonlight beauty. I wasn't offended, what made you think so?"

Harry looked away.

"Harry." When the green-eyed man didn't acknowledge him, Fenrir sighed. "Harry, look at me. I didn't mean to hurt you, this wasn't my revenge for how long you held out on me. Don't think that of me. I just... I never had sex-"

"What?" Harry stared up at him as if he was some alien with green tentacles growing out of his head.

"I never had sex with someone who wasn't a werewolf," Fenrir continued with a glare at Harry for interrupting him. "I always forget you're not like me, that I could really hurt you."

"Oh, I'm not made of glass, either." Harry said with a shrug. "I just thought you were angry."

"I know you were teasing me," Fenrir assured him. "I'm still your Alpha, though, and I demand respect, Harry. Always."

"I demand respect as well," Harry replied. "I'm not going to let you walk all over me, Fen, and I'm not going to obey you without question."

Fenrir growled, pressing Harry into the straw, menacingly hovering over him, baring his teeth when Harry just stared at him, not lowering his gaze or exposing his throat as he would expect from one of his pack.

"I'm not going to hurt you, my small one, but you'll obey me and submit to me or bear the consequences. Your magic doesn't impress me, and I'll easily keep you in my arms and prevent you from moving one single inch until that rebellious streak of yours dies down."

"I know you're physically stronger than me, and that's all the more reason to not let you dominate me. I've been a toy and a weapon for my whole life. Do you really think I'm interested in that kind of relationship again? That's what you reminded me of earlier, my own weakness." Harry shook his head. "If you care for me, you won't force me, Fen."

"It's my job as your Alpha," the werewolf protested, leaning down to brush a kiss over Harry's lips. "I can't just switch off my dominating nature."

"I never expected you to." Harry scowled at him. "But I don't... I want respect, as well."

"And I do respect you. How could I not, the way you fought in the showers, spent time with me during the full moon and managed to slip away from me so often? You aren't weak, far from it. I'm just stronger, which is nothing for you to be ashamed of. I've never met anyone who was stronger than I," Fenrir argued, quite smug. "But do you think that means I don't respect my pack? I don't obey them, true, and I expect them to submit to me, but I show my respect by taking care of them, protecting them and listening to their wishes, as I'll do for you."

Harry peered at him closely, his scowl turning into a pensive expression. "I suppose I could try, but I can't allow anyone to rule my life again. I just can't, Fen."

"I understand that, Harry. I won't order you around unnecessarily, and your life is still your choice. You can decide what you want or don't want to do."

"Really?" Harry asked hopefully, smiling brightly when Fenrir nodded. "Then, I want you to stop hovering over me."

Fenrir grunted in agreement, rolling off of Harry, then laid down on the soft, fresh straw. He even allowed Harry to bed his head in the crook of Fenrir's neck. Harry threw one thin arm over Fenrir's stomach.

"We have to get past eight guards," Harry stated suddenly, shifting closer. "Two at the entrance to the upper level, two more who stand guard at the entrance outside and the last four patrolling all around the island. And Dementors."

The slender man shuddered, and Fenrir gently rubbed his lower back. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that now. Tonight we'll reenergise, and maybe I can make sure you remember how it feels to be feeling." He suggestively slapped Harry's bottom, drawing an indignant shout from the black-haired wizard. "We'll escape tomorrow when it'll take longer for them to notice we're gone. Don't worry about the guards."


"Harry, I can handle them, and as long as you can open the cell door, I will get the two of us out of here."

"Three, Travers is coming with us."

"And who decided that?" Fenrir growled. "He's not going to come with us, he's only going to hold us up."

Harry glared. "He's coming with us. I'm not leaving him here where he might be raped again."

"I'm not taking him with us. Voldemort will come soon and free all the prisoners. He'll hardly die from waiting two weeks or so longer."

"And how would you know?" Harry retorted. "You've been ignoring him all these years, you just looked aside, didn't you? Because he's a wizard, and he deserved it, and because you couldn't be bothered to care that he's scared out of his mind and that he's trying to find a way to kill himself. I'm not leaving him here alone, I'm not."

"Now wait a minute, I'm not his babysitter. I'm not some saint who wants to protect everyone. That's your job, obviously."

"Exactly, you can't change me, and Travers needs me. He needs me, Fen."


"Voldemort won't care. He'll free all the Death Eaters, and Travers can't fight side by side with them again. He'll be killed as a traitor," Harry reasoned. "If he's lucky, he'll be killed immediately."

"He'll slow us down," Fenrir tried it again, but had the sinking feeling that he had already lost the argument.

"I'll slow you down," Harry whispered in his ear, nuzzling his neck. "I'm no werewolf, remember? Please? I don't want another death on my conscience... I don't want him to die because of me, I don't want you to die..."

"And why would I die?" Fenrir asked in confusion. "I doubt you'd manage to kill me even if you sneaked up on me in my sleep."

"I kill everyone." Harry closed his eyes. "Everyone I care for dies."

Fenrir sneered. "So you think just because you care for me, I should drop dead now, should I?"

"No, but there're a lot of people who'd like to see me dead and wouldn't hesitate to kill you to get to me," Harry answered, worry clear in his voice. "That's why we have to have a plan, we can't just storm out of here and expect everything to go perfectly. They'll follow us and hunt us down with Aurors and Dementors, they..."

"It's not like I have many friends out there or in here, either." The werewolf smirked wryly, ignoring Harry's scowl. "Besides, I won't die, and neither will you, nor your pet Death Eater. I don't like you saying things like that."

"Your optimism is all well and good," Harry retorted. "But it'll help neither of us, and if someone else died because of me..." Harry choked, burying his face in his hands in despair, and drew away from Fenrir. When the werewolf uncertainly reached out to pat Harry's back or pull him into his arms or kiss away his pain, Harry jerked away. "Don't touch me, I'll kill you."

"So what if I died?" Fenrir asked, causing Harry's head to snap up. "It's still my life and my decision, little wolf. And if I decide to throw myself between you and a curse, there's nothing you could do about it, because I made my choice. Whether you push me away or accept me with open arms will influence the quality of my life, not the quantity. That I promise. I promise, Harry. Trust me a little."

Harry sniffled quite loudly, but before Fenrir could ask him if he was okay, the green-eyed wizard threw himself into Fenrir's embrace with so much force he knocked the werewolf over and onto the straw. Harry kissed him on the cheek and on the nose and on the lips and covered his whole face with his lips. "Thank you," he whispered over and over again. "Thank you."

"For what?" Fenrir asked, carefully rearranging Harry's body on his.

"For not making me responsible, not blaming me," Harry murmured, nuzzling the crook of the werewolf's neck. "You can't imagine how good it feels."

"I'm glad to hear that. You believe me, small one, yes?" Fenrir questioned.

"As much as I ever believed someone," Harry answered sincerely, looking at him with luminescent eyes. "But I still want you to be careful, please? Just for me? Think of all the amazing sex you'd miss."

Fenrir burst out laughing, tugging Harry's head down for a kiss. "Bribery? Why, who would have thought you had it in you? What kind of man would I be if I said 'no' to such an offer?"

"Not someone I'd like to touch me," Harry murmured softly, closing the remaining distance between their faces, gently licking and nipping at Fenrir's lips, even skipping his tongue into the werewolf's mouth until Fenrir had enough and started the counter-attack, engaging Harry in a possessive and demanding kiss.

Finally, Harry drew back with a small gasp for air. "Sex?"

"Sex now! Escape later!" Fenrir returned decisively, smirking. "Mine forever!"


The werewolf menacingly bared his teeth before he proceeded to ravish Harry thoroughly, leaving love bites on the milky skin, rubbing his scent into Harry's pores and generally marking Harry as his and his alone.

Later, when Harry lay snuggled into his side, tired out from their activities, Fenrir thought that, although Harry had easily fulfilled all his basic needs with his mere presence, a snap of his fingers and a wave of his hands, the younger man needed more than a little help to fulfill one of the most essential aspects of life, one the werewolf had previously taken for granted: hope.


Well, I for one hope you enjoyed this chapter and the whole story. And that you review. Remember this is your last chance...

PS: Basic Needs now has a sequel - Basic Wants - so if you liked this story or if you're curious what will happen next, check it out!