Chapter Text
Fenrir could feel himself spiralling into obsession. Memories of that night on Hogwarts grounds when he had his way with the Malfoys haunted him. The pensieve he'd managed to acquire had only done damage to him, teasing him with the moans and cries of his prey, the sight of their naked forms being an unlimited source of both pleasure and painful longing. So he added more memories. More pain and blood of numerous victims, to dilute the pain inside himself. It didn't work. He was in constant pain now. But there was a happiness inside him. The optimistic part of him that knew all this pain would be worth it in the end.
On the first full moon after Voldemort's ultimatum to find Severus Snape for him in return for his babies, Fenrir had ravaged an entire group of the Order of the Phoenix. The intel had been great and he'd feasted. But still no Snape. Never Snape. His pack was capable of breaking through wards the Dark Lord didn't know existed, despite the snake's hubris. They were capable of tracking further and faster than wizards. But still no Snape.
The pitiful cry of a woman in pain brought his mind back to reality. His body had been moving without direction from his mind. But it was fine. He found that having sex so soon after he morphed back into his human form was the next best thing to fucking his pack on the full moon. He looked down as he continued to thrust into the flailing body beneath him. Despite her protests, her cunt squeezed his cock desperately. The whimpering would begin soon, like it always did. Then Hermione Granger would go flaccid and close her eyes tighter. Her breathing had already deepened. She no longer fought his gentle touches, only the harsh fucking. He'd learned a number of techniques, over the years, on how to confuse his victims. The human mind could be weakened under assault. And hers would be. But it was taking far more time than he was used to. She was worth it, though. He fucked his frustrations in not finding Snape so he could trade him for the Malfoys, into her sweet cunt. She was magically tied down onto his bed but she had some limited manoeuvrability. As such, when he grasped her hips suddenly, her eyes flying open in shock, her hips bucked toward him as his thrusts grew harsher.
She would realise her mistake later, but right now, the drugs in her system were keeping her mind addled. But she was strong. Stronger than anyone he'd ever bedded. She would make such powerful pups. He looked forward to breeding her with the strongest of his pack, once he and Draco had had their own from her. He would be careful about overextending her though. He wanted to break her but not kill her.
"Fuck," he murmured, now lowering his mouth into the crook of her neck, his thrusts becoming haphazard as he neared his end.
Draco better appreciate this gift. Fenrir knew the boy had a score to settle with the mudblood. And he would break her in for Draco, make her more pliable so he can take what he wants from her. Yes. The wolf loved fucking her, almost as much as he loved howling at the moon. He closed his eyes, and bidden images of Draco underneath him, lying flat across the mudblood, fucking her cunt while Fenrir took his sweet arse at the same time... their bodies moving in tandem ... he couldn't hold it in any longer.
Fenrir threw back his head and howled, spilling his seed into the girl. Owyn was so sure he couldn't impregnate her, so Fenrir didn't care that his semen was now awash in her. But that will change. She convulsed around him, her sobs now dying; what was echoing against the walls in his room just minutes ago was now a dull throb in the back of his mind.
"Yes," he whispered softly, satiated and not moving from above her as she went limp. "We will be a family, and when you're done carrying Draco's pups," she whimpered lightly. He knew she was listening. He'd been promising her this for months. "I'll fuck my own into you," he said, grinning down at her as she opened her eyes and glared up at him. Interesting. The thought of carrying Draco's pups seemed to upset her but the reaction from the hint at being swollen by him fuelled that anger he'd grown to love.
He wiped at her tears. "We'll be a family. You, me, the pack, and the Malfoys. You won't ever be alone. You'll have so many pups." He kissed her gently, stroking her side as she shuddered, clearly uncertain what to think of his apparent kindness. "Your Order is dead and gone. You will need our alliance." He bit her ear softly. "You're going to love it. Love us." He rolled off her prone body and sighed deeply.
Fenrir grinned like a maniac before climbing out of bed. These fantasies were the only things keeping him going, in his ongoing search for the Malfoys. He may not have found them yet, but it was only a matter of time. He draped a robe over himself and grabbed his wand then moved to leave the room. As their usual routine, he would leave her to her thoughts for a while before sending Owyn to retrieve her. She no longer had to go to Owyn's lab, but the Healer had insisted on being the one to escort her back to her room. He was fond of the girl, it seemed. And Granger was so very lucky - not only was she entering their family, but also had her own room now. It was plush and had all the amenities. The kinds of things that all witches wanted.
"No."
Fenrir's hand was on the door nob when she spoke. Even though she always had choice words for him, be it swearing vengeance on him or lying about his performance in bed, Hermione Granger's voice now sounded brittle, like she hadn't spoken in months. He turned to look at her. The glare on her face was no new, but there was ... something ... about her right now that didn't sit right. A deep, dark place existed in everyone, whether they fought for the Light or not. He'd been hoping to draw hers out. Soon.
"I won't," she said, the look of determination on her face made his cock twitch.
Fenrir felt a tremble of excitement mix with the trepidation that the sudden knowledge that he hadn't even begun to break her will. I'll show her. He let go of the door and strode back to her, smirking at the way she instinctively tried to back away. The magical bonds would not let her, however, as he sat down next to her. The bed creaked.
He ran a hand along her pussy lips and she shivered, still sensitive. "Oh, I believe you will." He barred his fangs and lowered his mouth to her cunt. She cried out as he bit her. It wasn't enough to infect her let alone turn her, and she knew it, but the fear that coursed through her veins was palpable. When he was done sucking up the last of her juices, Fenrir pulled back and wiped at his mouth. She had her eyes closed.
"You will bear his pups, and then mine," Fenrir said confidently and stood up. She turned her head away. "And you will enjoy every moment."
His resolve broke.
Fenrir left the room and prowled the hallways. Dammit. He couldn't let her see how frustrated he was. He needed to appear confident. If she thought for a moment that he worried about his plans, Granger would never break. It had been months for fuck sake! Months since he'd started his search for Snape. Three, to be exact. And each time the moon would rise, bathe him in its power and blood, then wane like a child too exhausted to go on. And still the news that returned was bad. Get a hold of yourself.
He needed to channel that inner optimist that knew his pack was better than anything the Dark Lord had to offer. Yes. He was underestimated. All wolves were. Wizards and witches thought they were just dumb animals - the Dark Lord thought them amusing but beneath him. We'll show them all.
Dark thoughts entered his head regardless, as he returned to his private room, feeling his blood boil at memories of being taunted. He growled and slammed the door shut, kicking at the wall; a crack in the stone appeared like a warning to temper himself. There had never been any royalty in the wizarding world, so just like the muggles, they'd only built these castles in Ireland as fortifications for important families. They were more than just stone - magic strengthened them. And his anger was so powerful that he could break through such enchantments. It had gotten him into places that the Dark Lord knew not.
"If the Dark Lord can't find him, what hope do you have?"
"Shut up, bitch."
Fenrir groaned to himself when he remembered he was alone. That voice in his head sounded suspiciously like the banshee tones of Bellatrix.
“Don’t forget, doggie, don’t eat the bad man. He's not your snack.”
The first few weeks on from Voldemort's ultimatum had been stressful enough. Fenrir's pack scoured the countryside. It was true that the Dark Lord's reach was long and wide but even he could not perceive every nook and cranny in Great Britain. Assuming Snape was still in Britain. Bellatrix sent him Howlers every few days to hurry up about it. If catching Snape was possible, the Dark Lord would've done it by now. The man was nothing if not resourceful. He'd been fooling Voldemort for years and was likely, currently holed up with what was left of the free Order of the Phoenix. And Voldemort hadn't found THEM yet either.
The knock at his door didn't surprise him. He could always smell Owyn coming. Or cumming. He grinned, feeling a little better as the man in question opened the door.
"You look like the girl got the better of you."
Fenrir just shook his shaggy body like a dog shakes off water and ignored that point. "Did she seem more or less pliant when you took her back to her room?"
Owyn watched as his master strode to his wardrobe and began pulling out clothes. He obviously intended to bathe, which wasn't unheard of for him, but he normally liked to walk around with the smell of sex on him.
"Less withdrawn but more contemplative."
Fenrir snorted. He found what he was looking for and started stripping. Owyn feasted on the large, muscular body as he tore off his clothes. He'd never tire of soaking in the twitch of every muscle as he ogled him. Until Fenrir, Owyn had always thought he was straight. Until the members of his pack, he'd only fucked women. Now, he was liberated, in more ways than one.
"I know you like having your fun with her," he said, hating that he had to knock him down a notch or two, "but she needs to break before we get the Malfoys."
Fenrir just nodded. He stormed off into his bathroom without another word.
"And before she is with pups," Owyn added. Women were troublesome enough when not pregnant.
Another week passed and Fenrir decided to go a bit more easy on the girl. But he still dosed her with potions to make her mind more ... pliable. He didn't want to overkill the drugs though. Owyn told him it wasn't a worry, but he still worried. He didn't want to change her personality, just her loyalty. She was feisty and bitchy and intelligent - and he would need all those strengths for the future of the pack.
But every time he shagged her into that cot, Fenrir reminded her how lucky she was. She changed up her routine, now no longer whimpering, even when he came inside her. The heat of his seed didn't affect her anymore. And this certainly bothered him. Still, he wagered her tune would change once she got a taste of Draco's pale cock. It was intoxicating.
Fenrir had just finished up with Hermione Granger, promising her she was going to enjoy the youngest Malfoy (and that he would be nicer to her when she does), when the door to the room flew open and he came prematurely. He was always up for a bit of voyeurism but closed doors were an etiquette for a reason!
He growled and jumped off Granger, ignoring her strangled cry at the movement and spun around, ready to unleash his fury. Cock hanging out, canines ready to slice... then he deflated.
Erlene, the pack mother hen, was smiling softly at him. He knew that look. Coming up behind her, Ransley looked extremely proud of himself. He ignored Fenrir's nakedness, waving a small box around. Their master almost missed the rest of the pack as they followed him in. The pack was grouping. The pheromones had calmed Fenrir.
"Letters," Erlene said. "Written out to some mudblood but in Snape's handwriting. It was confiscated when the Dark Lord raided that Grimmauld Place. We just got our hands on it. Told his envoy they'd be important."
Behind Fenrir, Granger shifted on the bed, still magically tied down. He ignored her. He knew what this meant. He took the box from Ransley and sniffed it, deeply. "I'd know that scent anywhere."
Ransley's face looked ready to split open, he was grinning so hard. "We finally have something of Snape's to track him with, properly."
Fenrir grinned maniacally, inhaling the scent of the former Professor deeply again. He'd tasted the scent of Snape before, in the air, before the Battle of Hogwarts. But while he remembered what the other man smelled like, he had needed something with his scent on it to track him magically. There would be magical protections blocking him, even in wolf form, but unlike Potter, who neither Fenrir nor the Dark Lord could have been able to get to because of the powerful protection charms done by Dumbledore himself, Snape would not be able to hide behind wards for long.
Never underestimate the pack.
He still found the spy to be an unnatural beast, and would gladly toss him over to Voldemort when the time came. But it he found delight in this heady aroma that reminded him of old socks and bitterness. He growled. "Snape is as good as ours."
His pack howled their excitement. It was finally time.