Pheromones

Fenrir Greyback stalked the halls of Hogwarts, looking for his next victim. The battle between the Death Eaters and the Order was playing out in the Great Hall. It was of no concern to him. He didn't care who won, really. This was just an excuse to kill things. He'd already had some fun with one of the Weasleys. That was when he'd noticed a certain dark-haired boy run off in the opposite direction of the battle. He was intrigued. So, he followed.

Harry Potter was panicking. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Death was surrounding him. People he knew and loved were being killed off left and right. He couldn't take this anymore. He had to get away. He bolted in the opposite direction and headed for the Room of Requirement to think about his next strategy.

He hadn't noticed the one person watching his escape get up to follow him.

Fenrir followed the scent of the Boy Who Lived. It was intoxicating. The fear, the anger, the hate. He was almost completely consumed with bloodlust to the point of simply taking the kid out then and there. But something was stopping him. He couldn't put his finger on it. But he knew he had to wait and see what it was about this kid that particularly made his senses tingle.

Harry finally got the room he'd been looking for. The Room of Requirement had transformed itself into a miniature library of defence spells and hexes. He decided that the Aurors and Order members could take care of the Death Eaters without him for a while, while he gathered his thoughts and came up with a new strategy. What choice did they really have, anyway?

Fenrir sniffed the air, following the boy's scent to the appropriate room. The silly child hadn't even locked the door behind him. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Harry tensed. He felt like he was being watched. He slowly turned his head to see a very tall, evil-looking (yet handsome) man grinning at him like he was about to pounce. He felt like screaming. But he didn't. He couldn't. He could only stare as this man started to advance upon him. He didn't even think about the wand that was right next to his hand, on the couch, at the ready. He just couldn't take his eyes off this terrifying creature.

He can't be a human, Harry thought, dropping the book he was currently reading. The man took his time crossing the large room. He was in no hurry. This was just a kid. One kid. Nothing between him and a good time, now. His grin widened, showing sharp, yellowed teeth; fang-like, making him appear wolfish. He's a werewolf! Harry's eyes widened. He suddenly remembered his wand. He grabbed it as quickly as possible, pointing it at the man's face.

Fenrir almost laughed at the boy when he finally remembered his wand and pointed it at his face. He couldn't care less that this boy had a wand. What could he do to him? Fenrir was a werewolf. This kid was only just learning spells and could know nothing to seriously hurt him. He just let his grin widen, smelling the shock and fear radiating from the Boy Wonder. Oh yes, he would take his time with this one.

"Stop!" Harry commanded, dumbly. He couldn't think of anything else to say. He didn't know if he could hex this person. He was a werewolf, after all. Wouldn't the curses, hexes and spells he knew simply bounce off? Only one way to find out. "Stupefy!" He flung the only effective curse he knew at the ever-advancing man. It missed. How did I miss? I aimed right at him!

"Brat, you can't hit me with that. I'm a werewolf. You have to be a lot more powerful to be able to hit me with that!" Fenrir barked a laugh. He didn't know what they were teaching the kids these days, but they most certainly weren't teaching them the important stuff.

"Impedimenta!" Harry tried again. The curse deflected and hit a bookcase behind the man that was now five feet in front of him. Only the couch stood between them.

"You're an idiot, boy. I just told you that you had to be a lot more powerful than that." Fenrir had finally stopped his torturously slow advancement. He simply stood before the boy, allowing the fear to grow. This looked as though it would take a while. Good thing he'd closed and locked the door behind him so no pesky interruptions could... interrupt.

"Who are you?" Harry still kept his wand up, just in case. Fenrir chuckled.

"Why, Fenrir Greyback, at your service." He bowed, mockingly; one hand over his waist as he bent, the other behind him in a flick.

Harry didn't know what to do. He obviously couldn't use magic to help him. He really obviously couldn't fist-fight with this giant of a man. He was completely helpless and he knew begging for his life wouldn't do any good. This was the man who'd turned Remus Lupin into a werewolf when he was just a child, younger than Harry was then. This man held no biases towards his victims.

"And, you, dear boy, are the famous Harry Potter. This is going to be fun... for me." With that, Fenrir suddenly leapt over the couch and tackled Harry to the floor, before the fireplace. They landed on a thick Persian rug with a thud.

Harry struggled under Fenrir, even though he knew it was useless. This man was huge. He was ten times stronger than Harry and was a werewolf to boot... and he had gravity on his side. Eventually, Harry stopped struggling. He'd tired himself out already.

Fenrir smirked as he pinned Harry's arms above his head with one hand over both wrists. He used his other hand to grab the boy's wand and conjured cords to bind him with.

Soon, Fenrir had Harry bound to the floor of the Room of Requirement in an 'X' shape. He used large metal pins to tie the cords to the ground, keeping the boy from any movement. He laughed again at the wide-eyed terror overcoming the kid's face. It smelled divine.

"Now, let's see... what first? Have any suggestions?" He stood, towering over Harry, looking down at him, an evil light glinting in his eyes.

"You could let me go..." Harry hadn't been gagged. Fenrir liked to hear his victims scream. He chuckled at the suggestion. The kid had balls. Even when he was terrified almost out of his mind and tied to the floor with no chance of being saved.

"Good try, kiddo. Sadly, you really don't have a say." He knelt down over Harry, straddling his chest, studying his face silently. "Hmm... you have a pretty face. If it weren't for your glasses..." he picked up the offending frames and threw them into the fireplace. "You won't need those anymore, anyway." He grinned, leaning closer. "You look much nicer without them. Now, let's see what it was about you that had me so fascinated." He sniffed the boy over, like a dog investigating something of interest. (Really, he was just this...)

"What are you doing?" Harry, for some reason unknown to him, completely lost all fear. He just laid there, curious as to what the hell this guy was up to. He received no answer other than a lick up his neck. "Ew! What the hell do you think you're doing!" He tried to move his neck away from the hot tongue, but found it quite impossible, as his arms were bound tightly to either side of him. Fenrir still didn't answer. He was lost in his own investigation of the boy. He continued to sniff and lick at Harry's neck and face. He just couldn't identify what it was about this kid that he liked so much. At first he'd thought it was some sort of different bloodlust he'd never felt before. But after his brief sniff-and-lick examination, he came to understand that he was attracted to the pheromones radiating from the teenager. This kid smelled like he was in heat. And Fenrir decided he liked it.

"Does fighting the baddies get you hot, Potter?" He grinned at the thought, sitting up. He moved so he was now straddling Harry's waist, just above his hips. He knew what he wanted to do now. And for some odd reason, he wanted Harry to enjoy it too.

Harry's eyes bulged. He blushed profusely before stuttering out a 'no'. Fenrir barked his laugh again as he leant forward again, his hands on either side of Harry's arms and head, holding him up as he stared into the deep, emerald eyes, centimetres away. This was the strangest feeling he'd ever had. He liked it though. It felt... good.

He stared for a moment more before closing the gap between them and softly kissing Harry's cheek. He then trailed kisses along the distance to the boy's mouth. He didn't know why, but he felt he needed to be gentle in this.

Harry could not believe what was happening. He thought this guy was going to kill him. But here he was kissing him... gently. He kinda liked it though. It was nicer than any of the other kisses he'd had with girls. Ok... than the kiss he'd shared with Cho. He felt a tongue probing his lips, trying to gently push its way in. He opened his mouth, letting it in. He felt it roam around, like it was mapping out his mouth for future references. It felt nice. Really nice. He moaned as it caressed his own, guiding it to follow its lead. Harry obliged.

He could feel Fenrir's hands sliding up his shirt, firmly massaging their way up, taking the top with them. He moaned into the kiss as the hands slid over his nipples. He arched his back into the touch. Fenrir smirked into the kiss before pulling away to let Harry breathe. He growled as he realised he wouldn't be able to take the shirt off because he'd tied the boy down. He shrugged and cut it off him with his claw-like nails. He rolled up the rags and put them under Harry's head like a pillow, making him more comfortable. He then went back to kissing his new lover.

He slid down so he was laying atop the boy, pelvis to pelvis. He felt the beginning of Harry's erection under his own. He ground down on the small hips, encouraging him to harden faster. Harry couldn't contain his moans. He'd never felt anything like this in his life. He wanted more. He didn't care that this was Fenrir Greyback, werewolf, mass-murderer and wanted felon working for Voldemort. He was the one making Harry feel loved and wanted. He just made Harry feel so damn good.

The only thing that was really bothering Harry at this point was the fact that he couldn't move. He desperately wanted to buck his hips into Fenrir's to create more friction, but because he was so tightly bound, he couldn't move anything. And his wrists and ankles were starting to ache, and the blood-flow was being cut off from his hands and feet.

"Ngh... F-Fenrir... untie me... please? I can't move... I need to... move!" He emphasised his point by faintly trying to buck, but couldn't move more than about a centimetre. Fenrir growled. He didn't know if he trusted the boy to not try to escape. But the whimpers of frustration coming from those delectable lips, bruised from kissing, were too much for the wolf-man. He sighed and cut the cords binding Harry with a sharp nail.

"Thank you!" Harry massaged his wrists, trying to soothe the burn marks. His hands were almost dead. He was getting pins and needles. As soon as he had all feeling back, he hesitated slightly before pulling Fenrir back on top of him.

"Eagre, are we?" he snickered at the pace the kid was setting, grinding his hips against Fenrir's, now that he could finally move. The werewolf let out an amused growl as Harry wrapped his legs around his hips and held him as close as possible, while tugging at his grimy top, wanting it gone. He gave the boy what he wanted, tearing the raggedy cloth from his body, watching for any reaction Harry had. He just stared. The look in his eyes was so intense, even Fenrir flinched.

He didn't realise the look was want. He'd flinched because he thought the look was disgust. He didn't know why, but he cared what Harry thought of his body. He knew he had too many scars to count, he wasn't bulky because of all the running and fighting he had to do... and he was ashamed that even though he was a werewolf, he had a smooth chest. He looked away from Harry who was currently studying every detail of his torso.

Harry saw the flinch and look of insecure shame... and he felt his heart miss a beat. He almost laughed at the man. This silly, silly, beautiful man. He nudged Fenrir's hip with a knee, indicating he wanted him off. He obliged, moving off the boy's hips and moving away. He thought that the boy had changed his mind.

He was a monster, but he was no rapist. He never intended to force Harry. He really wanted him to enjoy it. If he didn't react the way he wanted, he'd just have killed him. Simple. But now... he was just so ashamed of his body that he couldn't look the boy in the eye. He turned away, his back to The Boy Who Lived, hunched over. Harry smiled gently, crawling over to the big softy.

He crawled in front of the sulky man, settling himself in his lap, and held his face in his hands, palms to cheeks. He kissed him softly, wrapped his arms around his chest and hugged him tightly before pushing him onto his back. Fenrir could only watch, confused, as Harry un-straddled him and started to take off his pants, revealing the man's now softened penis. He'd never done this sort of thing before, especially not with another guy, but he knew what he felt like he thought he'd like.... and did it to Fenrir.

He took the tip of the limp member into his mouth and sucked hard a few times, setting his teeth around it, applying gentle pressure, while tonguing the slit. He held the rest of it in his left hand, using his left hand to fondle the testicles, rolling them, gently squeezing. Once Fenrir started to harden again, Harry ran his tongue along the underside, making the man moan from deep in his throat. Harry took this as a good sign and started to bob his head, trying to get it all in his mouth at once. He didn't know if it would work, but Fenrir seemed to like it and he was getting more and more in his mouth every time his head bobbed down. He felt large hands fisting his hair, lightly holding him over the now fully erect penis. He smiled into the task he'd set himself.

"Ngh... Potter.... where'd you learn that?" Fenrir fought to keep from thrusting into the sweet little mouth sucking him off. He didn't want to choke the boy.

Harry tried to talk around the length in his mouth but failed. Instead, he only managed to send vibrations through his throat and up the penis. Fenrir hurriedly pulled away, lest he come too soon.

"What'd you say?" He growled out, pulling Harry up to his face, on top of him, ensuring their penises kept up the friction.

"I said, I just made it up. I did what I thought I would like." He blushed. To take the focus off his embarrassment, he started to kiss Fenrir's neck, nipping it as he went along. He'd liked it when Fenrir did it to him.

"Hmm..." What he'd like, eh? Well then... Fenrir gripped Harry under the arms, pulling him up so he was sitting on his chest. Fenrir leant his head forward and latched his mouth onto Harry's pre-come dripping member. He tastes good... really good... Fenrir sucked hard, grazing with his teeth and nipping the head. Harry gasped and bucked his hips, unable to control himself. Harry wasn't anywhere near as big as Fenrir... and Fenrir had a bigger mouth, so it didn't bother him at all. He welcomed it, taking it all in, easily. He held Harry's hips, firmly, massaging the jutting bones with his thumbs, stroking the firmness of his cheeks with his fingers, making him want to flip him over and pound him into the floor. But he held on. He gave the boy what he wanted, first.

He felt Harry's sac tighten, a sign that he was close to coming... as well as the constant thrusting and the shallow, jagged breaths the boy was taking. He removed his mouth from the delicious penis (earning himself a confused and annoyed moan) and picked the boy up, and laid him back on the rug. He spread Harry's legs, placing them over his shoulders as he licked a hot trail between the come-hither cheeks. Harry blushed the brightest shade of red, yet.

"Ew! What're you doing?" He tried to clench so Fenrir couldn't do that again.

"I have to prepare you, or you'll tear open. Loosen up, boy." He gently slapped a cheek, before giving a few comforting pumps to the neglected penis in front of his face. At the friction of Fenrir's hand, Harry automatically relaxed.

Fenrir carefully spread Harry's cheeks, revealing the tight, pink hole. He groaned at the thought of shoving himself in there, the virgin muscle clenching around him as he thrust in and out at different angles, ramming the prostate over and over again.

He tore his mind from those thoughts before he came. He wanted to be inside the boy when that happened. It'd better be soon, too... this is getting painful.

Placing a quick kiss on the hole, he thrust his tongue in, tasting the sweetness of Harry's anus. The boy let out the loudest moan yet. He'd never felt anything like this! Even being sucked off wasn't anything like it. He pushed up, trying to get more tongue in his hole. He wrapped his legs tightly around Fenrir's shoulders, urging him to do more.

Fenrir had his tongue in as far as it would go. He knew it wasn't enough preparation, but he had to get the hole wet enough... and he didn't want to tear the boy open with his sharp nails... but he'd do worse if he didn't prepare more... Ah! I know! He grabbed Harry's wand again, but by the tip. He placed the handle at the now wet entrance. Harry froze.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"If you think it's your wand, it is."

"No."

"Why?"

"Not my wand." Fenrir sighed. He didn't want to have to resort to this method but the boy left him no choice...

He dropped the wand and bit the nails off his three middle fingers. He winced as he spat out the claws he'd worked so hard to maintain.

Making sure the nails weren't jagged, he stuck the first finger in. He let Harry squirm about until he was used to the feeling, before moving it in and out and around, stretching him enough for the second finger. Harry was panting with pleasure, yet frustration. He grasped himself firmly and started to pleasure himself while Fenrir did what he had to.

"Oi, stop that!" Fenrir slapped away Harry's hand. Harry whimpered, wanting release. He needed it badly.

Fenrir thrust his finger in and out a few more times before deciding it was time to add the second one. He hoped he'd prepared enough... he slipped it in.

Harry groaned. It hurt, but it didn't. It was nice, but it wasn't. He liked it.

Fenrir waited until Harry had adjusted again, before thrusting and scissoring. With his other hand, he squeezed Harry's thigh, in a kind of soothing massage, letting him know it would be OK.

Harry started to enjoy having the fingers inside him. He felt so full. It was indescribably wonderful. He met every thrust with his own. He didn't know what could be better than this.

Then he found out. Fenrir crooked his fingers and pushed in a little further and found what he was looking for. Harry's prostate.

Harry screamed as he was blinded with pleasure. He couldn't believe how good this man could make him feel. He clenched around the fingers, not wanting them to leave. Fenrir groaned, wishing it wasn't his fingers enveloped in such a warm, tight grip. He found that he liked this type of screaming much more than that of his past victims.

After a few more hits to the prostate, Fenrir decided to add the third finger. He hoped he'd caused enough pleasure to override the pain he was about to cause. He was sorely disappointed.

Harry screamed in agony as he felt as though he was being ripped apart. The difference between two and three fingers was enormous. He felt tears making their way down his temples as he clenched tighter around the fingers.

Fenrir's heart missed a beat. He normally loved hearing such screams as he tortured his victims mercilessly... but this. This was his own torture. This innocent, delicious little boy who'd shown him the most love and trust – the only love and trust – of anyone he'd ever met, after just meeting him – and threatening to kill him – was screaming in agony. He hated it. He hated himself. He tried to comfort him by holding his hand and squeezing gently. He moved both hands over to the softening penis and made them pump it and squeeze the sac to take the focus from the pain.

It worked. Harry was soon moaning wantonly again. He thrust into the hands – one was his own, one Fenrir's – as he tried to get as much friction as possible.

Fenrir noticed that Harry had stopped clenching and started to move his fingers. He stretched the hole as much as possible. He knew his penis was much bigger than three fingers. He really didn't want to damage this boy. He made sure to hit the prostate every time, trying to give as much pleasure as possible.

Finally, he felt he'd stretched enough to avoid most serious damage. He pulled his fingers out, licking them, wanting to taste that part of Harry once more before thrusting in.

He let the legs fall from his shoulders, but made sure they stayed spread enough for him. He lowered himself over the boy, his tip nudging the entrance.

"You ready?" He received a nod. He knew going slowly would only cause more pain... so he thrust in completely, all in one go. Harry gasped, holding back the scream this time. He knew it would be bigger than the three fingers, he wasn't stupid, but it still hurt like hell.

Fenrir waited for him to adjust again. He couldn't believe how soft this boy was making him... but he decided that he didn't mind. As long as no one else found out.

He held Harry's hands, squeezing them again as he reassured and comforted him, kissing along his neck and throat until he made his way to the lips that he realised he really missed in all the time away from them. He began to move when Harry bucked his hips, signalling he was ready.

Slowly, Fenrir built up the pace until he was pounding the boy as hard as he could without breaking him. But something didn't feel right. He stopped for a second. Just long enough to change positions. He shifted so Harry was on top, wanting the boy to ride him.

"What do you want me to do?" Harry was at a complete loss. He didn't know what the man had in mind.

"Ride me." He spread his legs, making Harry come down on him a bit more, filling him completely. Harry moaned, not able to believe that his body was able to take so much in at once. He wrapped his arms around Fenrir's neck, resting his forehead against Fenrir's and began to move. Fenrir held his hips, helping to lift him and then letting him drop down again. Every time, Harry angled so he'd hit his prostate. He was in heaven. Or so he thought.

He knew he was when he felt a large hand wrap itself around his forgotten erection and started to pump him in time with his thrusts. His head fell back, a loud moan escaping his lips. He felt a hot mouth suckling at his Adam's apple as his thrusts became jerky and uneven. He was so close. He could hardly stand it.

With a few more pumps and hard grinds against Fenrir's pelvis, Harry came in a hot flood, all over Fenrir's hand and both their chests. He let out an animalistic roar of completion. He'd never orgasmed before. This was bliss. He rode out this wonderful new feeling, lazily grinding against Fenrir.

The werewolf still hadn't come. He lay Harry back down and pounded in him until he finally felt his release. He filled the boy's passage with hot, sticky semen and collapsed on top of him, kissing his temple before pulling out. He cupped Harry's now-soft penis and groped a bit as he lay there, exhausted.

After a few minutes of snuggling and kissing, Harry remembered what Fenrir had said before all this had started.

"...Now, let's see what it was about you that had me so fascinated."

"Did you find out what had you so fascinated with me?" he asked, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Fenrir's neck, before nibbling his earlobe, licking the shell then plunging his tongue in, causing a shudder to run through the man's body. He pulled back a bit, facing Harry, kissed him gently before laying his head back down.

"Pheromones."