A/n: Lycanthropy poisoning: Is simply what Bill Weasley got in HBP. (Except, in my story, it's a little more…pronounced) Craving meat, shorter temper, perhaps claws and or canines, restlessness on the full moon…
Summary: Harry gets lycanthropy poisoning in the summer after his fifth year, but he's not yet fully werewolf. When Draco helps the Death Eaters in Hogwarts- Greyback sets his sights on an emotional exhausted Harry. And so the battle of gaining possession of his mate begins. Greyback will have to get through a protective Lupin to get his mate. And it doesn't help matters that Harry and Lupin are hiding away from the rest of the wizarding world. After Dumbledore's death, the wizarding world is in an uproar. Will Harry decide to save the world that was eager to dismiss him because of his werewolf blood? Or will he take the easy road and allow Greyback to protect him on Voldemort's side?
Dans Son Bras, J'ai Couru
Remus snarled in anger, and for a moment he was unrecognisable to Harry. His lips were pulled back and his eyes feral in a look that was completely out of place on the usually docile face.
Ahead of them, Greyback crouched but his face was painted in amusement.
"Go on then Lupin, use your precious magic to try and beat me. That's how you tried to hide before, wasn't it? In that pathetic hovel you called a home. Fat lot of good that did you, you couldn't protect the boy then and you can't protect him now."
Twisting his body, Remus flung Harry out behind him and in one fluid motion jabbed his wand forward. The bludgeoning hex blasted Greyback through the air, catching him unaware.
Something in Harry twisted at the howl of pain that rendered the air afterwards. The sight of Fenrir's anguished face tore at him, and as his teeth elongated once more, he raised his head into the air and howled along with him.
The sound was cut off abruptly as Remus grabbed at his arm and dragged him backwards. Harry stumbled awkwardly over the uneven ground as he struggled to find his balance again, and in the process he lost sight of Fenrir. In the distance the Forbidden Forest loomed out of the darkness, as ominous and forbidding as ever. As Remus dragged him across the threshold and into the depths of the forest, Harry turned around to stare back at the castle.
In the light pouring from the open doors and windows, Harry could make out the flared robes of the aurors as they ran out to duel with the death eaters. As more and more joined the fight, the death eaters were pushed back until most twisted to run for the edge of the anti-apparition wards. Turning sharply, Remus dragged him along the edge of the forest, just under the shade of the trees. Harry didn't ask what he was looking for and why they didn't just run into the forest, but followed along wordlessly.
It was almost pitch black now, but strangely Harry could make out his surroundings almost as easily as in the daylight. For the moment his senses were stronger than they'd been all year as his control slipped. His heightened senses weren't easy to get used to though, so when Remus stopped suddenly, Harry ran right into him. Harry opened his mouth to ask him why he'd stopped, but Remus quickly covered it with one of his callused palms and frowned at him to be quiet.
Furrowing his brows in confusion, he turned his head in the direction Remus was staring at. The bright balls of light bobbing in the distance prickled at his eyes, sending white patches dancing across his vision at the sudden change from darkness. Pricking his ears, he could hear the footfalls of aurors running towards them. Their wands were lit as they shouted to each other and gestured to the tree line.
"They were heading this way when I last saw them."
"All of you, quickly, spread out in a line. I don't want them getting away."
Harry chocked in shock when he realised that they were looking for them. Now that Dumbledore was dead, there was no one to protect him from the wrath of the wizarding public. He had no doubt that Fudge had ordered for them to be arrested. He probably wanted to flag waning public support by giving them what they wanted, a dangerous, werewolf boy-who-lived locked up in Azkaban.
Remus gripped his arm tightly and twisting around they ran into the forest. For the first time since being bitten, Harry allowed his werewolf senses to fully spring forth. His eyes sharpened and trees and branches sharpened into focus in the dark. Each long stride took him further, his muscles springing him effortlessly across the forest floor. Behind him, he could hear the aurors struggle to keep up. Spells flared through the undergrowth and he drove forward faster than ever. Low-hanging branches and fallen logs hindered his path, but he somehow missed them all, his faster reflexes carrying him past them easily. And despite everything, he was as silent as the forest itself, his footsteps light and airy.
It was only further in, when peering around him, that he realised he was running alone. Twisting his head as much as he could, he tried to find Remus in the forest around him. But he can't see anything, and neither could he smell him. In this lapse of concentration, he stumbled over a branch and went sprawling across the leafy floor. Pushing himself up shakily, he twisted around anxiously. But the forest immediately surrounding him was quiet and Harry knew that he'd been split up from the other man.
The crunch of splitting branches behind him cut through the quietness and Harry staggered to his feet. Stumbling forward, he forced himself to run again. But he was growing tired rapidly; the lycanthropy poisoning only gave him strong werewolf tendencies, not turned him into one and his stamina was waning. Still the prospect of being caught by the aurors behind him spurred him onwards and he ran until his muscles burned and ached.
Sliding down a slope, he tripped again and went rolling down the bank. He landed in a messy heap at the bottom, but for the life of him, he couldn't find the energy he needed to get up again. He was mentally and physically exhausted and his legs and thighs ached and cramped. As he lay there, he could hear the crunch of leaves at the top of the embankment. One of the aurors must have broken rank because he was closer than the others, who were still a bit further back.
Harry reached down and scrambled for his wand; he wouldn't go down without a fight. He screamed in shock when a large, muscled body landed above him and his head jerked backwards into the hard ground with a resounding thud. Framed in the moonlight, Harry could make out the hard figure of Fenrir Greyback crouched above him, his legs on either side of his torso and his face perilously close to his own.
He blanched at the sight; this time there was no Remus to save him and the only alternative, the aurors chasing after them. He supposed that Greyback would only too eagerly capture him and hand him over to Voldemort. But, maybe whatever tortures Voldemort would come up with would only serve as his penance for the horrible act he'd committed to Ginny.
Past the trees lining the embankment they could hear the line of aurors crashing noisily through the undergrowth. Leaning back, Fenrir stood straighter and held out a hand for Harry to take, in an altogether unexpected move. From this angle, he could study the older man much more clearly. One of his eyes was slightly red-rimmed and his torso was burgeoning flair of red and purple, but he was still as handsome to Harry's eyes as when he saw him by the castle.
And for some reason, despite everything he'd heard of the man, he wasn't afraid. The werewolf side of him, the part now more dominant following his run through the forest, wanted to reach out to him. The feeling bubbled in his chest, urging him to get closer. He looked into the amber eyes that stared at him, and taking the chance, he placed his faith in him. Reaching out he grabbed the hand offered to him. Fenrir grunted in satisfaction at this response. His biceps bunched and coiled as he swung Harry up off the floor and onto his back. Harry grabbed at his broad shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist tightly as Fenrir took off into forest again.
A cacophony of sound rose up behind them as the aurors noticed their departure, but Fenrir expertly dodged their wildly flung spells and leapt through the air raggedly. There was an unexpected grace and elegance to him, Harry realised, as Fenrir ran without once jolting him.
As they entered deeper into the forest, they approached another embankment. Running smoothly to the edge, Fenrir grunted to Harry and he tightened his hold on the werewolf in response. Crouching down as he approached the lip, Fenrir leapt off the edge and high into the air. Mid-arc, he changed fluidly into his werewolf form. Harry squeezed his eyes shut as his grip faltered on the rapidly changing mass underneath him. With a grunt, the large back of Fenrir's werewolf form rammed into him and Harry automatically clenched his fists into the thick fur.
Fenrir's gait was longer now, even more fluid. And Harry knew then that no amount of wizarding magic could catch them now. Slowly his eyes slipped shut, as the events of the day rushed back to him. The shifting bones in Fenrir's back rubbed against him, soothing his sore muscles. He drifted slowly into unconsciousness, trusting that Fenrir would take care of him.
The first thing Harry felt when he regained consciousness was a deep seated ache in his bones. He groaned as he shifted on the surprisingly springy ground and batted away whatever was poking him in the neck. But it was persistent and as Harry opened his eyes to find out what it was, a wet, pink tongue swiped his face leaving a messy trail behind it. Harry scrunched his face in disgust and wiped roughly at his cheek with the back of his sleeve. Looking up Harry saw the large muzzle of a silver wolf poke at his face again. A few small licks later and it nudged at his side and urged him onto his feet.
Sitting up, Harry noticed that he was lying on a bed of leaves and moss. They were positioned under a few large trees that rose up into the sky for further than even Harry's enhanced senses could see. Apart from a residing ache in his limbs and the general waft of saliva about him, Harry felt fine. The wolf yipped at him before stepping back and stretching languidly. As Harry stood up, the wolf transformed smoothly into its human form. Standing before him was Fenrir in all his naked glory. Harry quickly jammed his eyes shut and turned the other way in what he hoped was a casual manner. His red cheeks were probably a giveaway though, and he could hear Fenrir's deep chuckle from behind him.
"Come on then cub, move it, you can't wait there all day."
Harry turned around hesitantly and Fenrir snorted. Somehow though, he had managed to procure a pair of navy slacks that had been shorn off at the knees. Rolling his shoulders, Fenrir set off through the trees to where a beaten path ran ahead to their right. Harry quickly jogged to catch up with him and joined him on the path.
They walked in silence for a while, though it was neither awkward nor tense. In fact it was a sort of companionable silence that Harry was hesitant to break despite the multitude of questions he desperately wanted to ask. Eventually though Fenrir grew tired of the not-so-subtle side-long looks Harry was giving him and grunted his displeasure.
"Stop looking at me like that, it' giving me the heebie-jeebies. Just ask your bloody questions will you?"
Harry wasn't phased by the gruff tone of voice and just gave him a measured look as he pondered which question ask first.
"It was one of your wolves wasn't it? The one who bit me."
Fenrir grunted and Harry took that to mean yes.
"Remus told me that you had them watching his shack."
"Me and Remus have a long-standing relationship. I like to keep a close eye on him, god knows, that mutt is a shame to the entire werewolf community."
"And you're not?" In hindsight, this was probably a question that was likely to anger Fenrir, and despite his tolerant nature thus far, Harry didn't doubt that what he'd heard about the brutal and violent man had some basis in truth. Fenrir, however, just chuckled darkly.
"Whatever you might have heard cub, I do only what's best for my kind."
"Remus also told me that you were the one who bit him when he was a boy."
"I did many things during that time that I'm not proud of. But if Remus had just joined my pack like he was supposed to, instead of running off to the wizards, he might not be so bitter nowadays."
Harry bit his lip in contemplation. It was a different thing entirely to hear from the man himself that he really did once bite innocent children, but Harry was inclined to read between the lines and trust that Fenrir didn't do that anymore.
"Did you ask him to do it?"
"Bite me. Infect me."
Harry frowned at that.
"It was an accident. That wolf was young, barely a cub himself. No one asked him to do anything but watch and be back-up. But like any young cub, he had ideas above his station."
"I thought that maybe…maybe Voldemort had asked you to have me bitten."
"It probably has worked in his favour in some way, but he never asked me to turn you. If he had, I would have turned you myself."
"Why? Are you his call-boy or something?"
Fenrir grumbled lowly at the insinuation but didn't break his stride. Apart from the small frown now gracing his face, he didn't respond to the question.
"Why do you do it? Why work for Voldemort of all people? He's a monster, a psychopath. Why would you ally yourself with him?"
"You've had lycanthropy poisoning for what, a year?"
Harry nodded slowly, not really understanding where Fenrir was taking this.
"But you hid it, you're not even a real werewolf and you hid yourself from everyone. Can't you see what's wrong with that? Why should have to hide yourself from them, why must you be ashamed of what you are?"
"You don't understand."
"No…no" Harry shook his head and frowned, "you don't get it. I'm the boy-who-lived. I have to protect them, protect everyone, from Voldemort, from the dark. I can't do that if I'm a werewolf, not with the werewolves all supporting him. I can't even control myself properly. Merlin, you didn't see it. Ginny…I just lashed out at her. I couldn't stop myself, and now she's in the hospital wing…because of me."
"Because you were trying to suppress it for so long. You can't deny who you are cub."
"I can't defend them like this…"
Fenrir interrupted his sentence before he could finish.
"Why should you? Since when was it your duty to protect them? Bloody hell, they can defend themselves if they want to, it's not up to you. Pssh, humans. You're just a cub, it's the alphas duty to protect their pack. What was your Dumbledore doing all this time? Twiddling his thumbs and leaving all the real work to you?"
"No, he did help. He did loads, loads of stuff you would understand. But I'm the only one who can kill him, who can actually finish him off."
Fenrir snorted in disbelief.
"Do you want to know why I work for Voldemort?"
Harry stared up at him, eager for an answer.
"Because he isn't afraid. Call it arrogance, call it stupidity, call it what you like. When he looks at me or the other wolves he isn't afraid. He treats us like equals. That's all I want for us werewolves, to be treated like equal citizens. As soon as those wizards found out you had lycanthropy poisoning, what did they do? They screamed blue murder. One day they were all over you, calling you their saviour and their hero. The next they hate your guts. Fuck, they even had aurors out to arrest you and do Merlin knows what to you. Is that how you want to live your life, like some sort of second-rate scum to those assholes?"
"But you believe Voldemort? You believe that he'll give you whatever he's promised you?"
"I don't know cub. But it's the only chance we've got. There's no hope left with the wizards, but as long as we're still useful to Voldemort, he'll leave us alone. He promised to give us the forbidden forest. I don't know how much of that promise he'll keep but all I ask is that we're left alone so that the wolf packs can live in peace out in the wilderness like we used to."
"In the wilderness?"
"Yeah. When I was a cub, we lived on our own in the forest somewhere south of here. We supported ourselves, built our own lives out in the nature. We made our own cottages to live in and the whole pack just lived together like a big community. It's how all the werewolf packs have lived since before time."
"Wizards." Fenrir spat, with venom in his voice.
"Didn't like us out there, though we never did anything to them. Drove us out, until everyone separated and the packs were all split up. That was when the werewolf numbers depleted the most. The Great Cull, they called it."
Fenrir's face was twisted in anger, and Harry suspected that he'd lost friends and relatives and pack members to the great cull. And he understood maybe just a little bit more, why he was the way he was. Gently reaching out, he placed a hand on Fenrir's thick forearm. Fenrir looked down at him quizzically.
Fenrir didn't say anything but he saw the sincerity in Harry's eyes and nodded. The conversation ended there and they carried on walking in silence. Harry's werewolf side mewled in satisfaction at the soft contact between them as they walked side by side, and Harry suspected there was a great many things the world didn't know about Fenrir Greyback.
A/N: I know a lot of you are angry I haven't updated in ages, but to be fair I did have important exams to deal with. But fear not, I won't be abandoning this story ever. And thank you for all your wonderful support and help, you've been great. And yes, the chapter titles will be in French. I'm using an online translator because my French is rubbish, but that maybe that's why the titles aren't grammatically correct. Just go with it…(though if any you know French and can help me out with it, let me know!)
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So, if you're interested leave me a review with the words "application" at the top or underneath your review, in caps lock, and then make sure I can contact you somehow. I'll probably email all of you so that I can get into direct correspondence with you and then we'll go from there.
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