Werewolf Heir

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I am just using its characters for my own sick amusement.

Warnings: slash, AU, werewolf!Harry, and mentions of mpreg.


Fenrir tore through the forest, his ears filled with the howls and cries of his pack as they wept. On and on he went with no sign of his mate or pup. In the confusion, his mate had frantically run off from their clearing. Fenrir had quickly lost sight of her despite his efforts to keep up and stop her. Not even him, the great alpha of their pack, could stop a werewolf mother hell-bent on getting to her pup.

Unfortunately, it was all in vain.

His poor mate in her wolf state of mind could not comprehend that their pup was not merely lost in the dense would that surrounded their camp, that their precious baby could not be found by scent alone. He had been stolen. Whisked away by vengeful wizards who had Apparated away before they could even understand what was going on or even wonder at how they had found their camp.

As soon as they had come, they were gone. By the time Fenrir had understood what was going on, his mate had already gotten a head start sprinting towards the forest in search of their pup. But, he wouldn't be there. Their pup was gone.

Seeing the end of their forest, Fenrir trudged forward warily as he felt the events of that night finally catch up to him. The insurmountable rage within him dimmed in comparison to the absolute emptiness that he felt. Up ahead, he finally caught sight of his mate curled up on the ground.

Trotting up beside her, he leaned down and licked the top of her head, listening as she whimpered pitifully at him. The heart brokenness in her tone tore at him. Growling, Fenrir howled at the moon. A symphony of howls followed his own, their song one of sorrow and loss. Knowing that a search while in his wolf form would be futile, Fenrir laid down beside his mate, gently licking her ears and muzzle.

When morning dawned and they were returned to their human forms, those of them that could use magic were sent on search parties, while those that couldn't stayed and searched around the perimeter of their camp for any clues. Months went by like this, they searched whenever they could, but nothing turned up.

As the months grew steadily colder, Fenrir knew it was time to end the search. He needed every able-bodied beta hunting and collecting food for their camp if they ever expected to survive this winter. He couldn't afford the extra time spent searching for his pup, no matter how it pained him. As the alpha, Fenrir knew it was his duty to protect his pack and keep them alive. If that meant abandoning a fruitless search, then so be it.

The following winter felt harsher than all the ones previous. Right before his eyes, Fenrir watched as his mate deteriorated in front of him. No matter how much he ordered her to, she would not eat, nor would she leave the sanctity of their clearing as she curled up in her hides and furs.

Each day, she became a little less until finally, she was gone.