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bottom_draco_commTitle: The Tastiest Delicacy
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deathlydragon
Prompt: #67, Little Red Riding Hood
Pairing(s): Fenrir/Draco
Summary: Lucius’ approaching return from Azkaban forces Draco to accept Fenrir Greyback’s help.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe, all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No money is made from this work.
Warning(s): Character death, cross-gen, non-con.
Word Count: 4.826
Author's Notes: This was really fun to write and I really hope you like it. Takes place in the summer holidays after Draco’s sixth year, but certainly not strictly canon. Oh, and special thanks and Lemon Ice Lollys to my betas! :)
Malfoy Manor seemed strangely silent and empty without Lucius around. Draco Malfoy lay on his bed under twisted sheets, the heat of the summer making him restless. The tiredness of a sleepless night was painful, and with his father still in Azkaban he eventually gave up the idea of sleep.
A golden brightness appeared on the horizon, much too bright for Draco’s burning eyes. He buried his face in his pillow again, as somebody pulled the curtains open.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder –”
“Bellatrix!” Draco rolled onto his back and came very close to throwing his pillow right into the horrible face of his aunt. “What’re you doing here?” he muttered instead and tried to turn over again to find comfort in his pillow. Actually, the only place in this dreadful house he still liked was his room, but his aunt sneaked into it more and more often, while his mother locked herself in Lucius’ study, leaving her son alone with the dark creatures that Bellatrix had invited to his home.
Bellatrix kept him from finding comfort; she gripped Draco’s shoulder, her long, blood-tainted nails digging deep into his flesh as she turned him over again. Her dark eyes were sparkling with that usual obsessive shimmer, which had started to bore Draco. He knew his aunt would never do him any harm, except for sneaking into his bedroom and singing strange lullabies to her Little Star…
“That moron of a father of yours is coming out, soon,” Bellatrix said melodiously, and Draco’s eyes widened. He sat up and opened his mouth, but could not manage to say anything, and Bellatrix seemed to suppress a mad giggle. “No, Lucius is not gay, as far as I know. The Dark Lord is demonstrating his indescribable generosity. Not that he’ll forgive you so soon, Dray-Dray, my little star, but you should feel lucky that I love you so much.” She sighed and pinched Draco’s cheek. “I keep you safe, my pretty nephew.”
“Yeah…” Draco gripped Bellatrix’s wrist and shoved her away. “Thanks for telling me. When will Father be back?” he asked curiously, quirking his head to the side. He was sure that as soon as Lucius was back in his house everything would be all right again and he would be able to do other things than lying in his bed all day.
“Probably tonight,” Bellatrix said and stood up again. “But he’ll be tired by the Dark Lord’s punishment, my own Cruciatus curse and because of your mother’s…” She paused as Draco stared at her in shock. “Oh, don’t be sad, Dray-Dray. He’ll be all right and you can play with him again. Just buy him some nice things at Diagon Alley, Pepper-Up Potion, Forgetfulness Potion, Elixir of Life…” Draco blinked. “Or some sweets and Elf-made wine. I’m sure that greasy bastard Snape can accompany you to Diagon Alley. We don’t want to lose our shining star, yes? The house looks so dark without you…”
“Eh, yeah…” Draco forced himself to smile. Bellatrix winked at him and finally left his room. Draco was thankful that Snape would accompany him to Diagon Alley, because Bellatrix was, after all, still a woman, and women loved shopping. Snape did not. Well… as far as Draco knew he did not.
Draco left the house clad in black velvet robes, which would have gone well with Snape’s usual black ones, but in the end, it was not Snape who would accompany him for his safety. In the entrance hall stood a large broad figure with matted grey hair. Draco could not say that he was pleased to see Fenrir Greyback… or smell him. It seemed that Greyback had tried to shower, but in the end all the smells of dirt, blood and now a lemon fragrance had mingled. Somehow Draco could not stop himself from sniffing, because it was a fascinating mixture.
“Draco!” Greyback said with his raspy voice. “There you are… Looking good… delicious, more than before.” Greyback licked his lips, reached out for Draco and patted him on the shoulder.
“I thought Severus would come with me,” Draco said, trying to sound as confident as always, but he could not prevent his voice from lowering. It was hard to maintain control with Greyback and his extraordinary desire for human flesh by his side.
“Snape’s busy,” Greyback rasped. “He trusts me.”
Draco skeptically raised his eyebrow. “Is that so? Well, then…” He cleared his throat, eyes taking in the sight of Greyback’s long yellowish fingernails. “We take the Floo, I suppose?”
Greyback grinned and showed his pointed teeth. Once more he reached out for Draco and placed a hand on his shoulder, exerting just enough pressure to make him move, but surprisingly the werewolf did not hurt him.
They stepped into the flames and named their desired destination, but by the time they arrived Draco’s robes looked horrible. He felt like a dirty Weasley with dust and ashes all over the expensive fabric, but it seemed likely nobody would notice because the Leaky Cauldron was empty. The Wizards were scared and did not dare to leave the safety of their homes. And Draco was stupid enough to go on a shopping trip with a werewolf.
“Where do you want to go?” Greyback asked smiling and his whole face seemed to illuminate as Draco looked at him.
Draco suddenly felt even more uncomfortable. “Uhm… I need some things for Father’s return…”
Greyback nodded eagerly. “Yes, poor Lucius… Spending over a year in Azkaban. He has probably lost his mind, and that you can’t buy him, my dear Draco.”
“Some sweets will do,” Draco said, trying to ignore the fact that everyone around him was going insane, even without being at Azkaban. He was not sure if his father would be very pleased to find so many similarities between Azkaban and Malfoy Manor, but he hoped to make Lucius feel better by handing over some presents. “And wine, probably…”
“Ah, alcohol is good for the soul,” Greyback said, nodding. He beamed at Draco and motioned him out of the empty pub. Diagon Alley was nothing like Draco remembered. Old editions of the Daily Prophet flew through the air and garbage littered the ground. Any people he saw immediately walked away as fast as they could when they noticed Draco… Well, they probably walked away because Greyback growled at them and not because a pale, thin Wizard shifted his gaze to the ground.
“I just hope Father’s still got his soul,” Draco muttered as Greyback pulled him down the street. “Is there anybody inside the shops or are we just taking whatever we need?” he asked.
Greyback shrugged. “What you like best,” he said. Draco looked at him with big eyes. “You need to be a bit more evil, little one. I can show you how to bare your teeth…”
“Err, thank you, but no thank you,” Draco said and almost felt pity for the glance Greyback showed him. He looked like a puppy kicked while out in the rain, and Draco felt a bit embarrassed to have rejected the werewolf like that. A second later he shook that thought off. He would certainly not sit down on a park bench with Fenrir Greyback and practice how to bare his teeth and steal little children’s lollipops.
“Just trying to help…” Greyback said and shrugged. “You don’t have to be frightened of me.”
Draco eyes widened once more. He hoped that he had not been that obvious, but his frosty façade seemed to have melted with his father’s imprisonment and all his confidence was gone since he had not been able to kill that old bastard Dumbledore. Maybe Greyback was right and he should practice… being a Death Eater. But he would ask Bellatrix for help and not a dirty werewolf.
“I’m not scared of you,” Draco said and straightened. “And even if I were, it would be none of your business. You’re just here to accompany me, so others like you don’t try to eat me.”
“I never thought about eating you,” Greyback barked, pressing his lips together as Draco looked at him, soundlessly forming the word ‘delicious’. Raising his big hand Greyback pointed with a yellowish nail towards Sugarplum’s Sweetshop, which looked dark and empty. Draco turned and approached the shop, feeling slightly miserable by the thought of having hurt Greyback’s feelings… somehow. In the end he could not tell how Greyback had meant that ‘delicious’. Maybe he was just showing his affection in a really weird way. Draco grimaced and shook his head in disbelief, before he opened the door and entered the sweetshop, frowning slightly as he was enveloped by the familiar warm, toffee-scented air.
“Looks like always,” he muttered, taking in the sight of the empty but clean shop. He could not imagine that the owner wanted to keep customers away, but his windows were not looking inviting at all.
“Yeah… uhm, probably,” Greyback said from behind him.
Draco frowned. He forgot that Greyback’s last time in a sweetshop must have been ages ago and somehow he felt pity; Greyback must have felt like in a sweetshop when he had been allowed to enter Hogwarts. And Draco was still regretting that. He knew that his friends had survived the night that the Death Eaters came to Hogwarts, but the thought of Greyback hurting them had caused him several sleepless nights.
“Hello?” Draco looked around but saw nobody behind the counter. “I have money,” he called seductively. “Lots of money!”
Greyback let out a bark of laughter, but immediately pressed a hand against his mouth as Draco scowled at him.
“You’re frightening the owner,” Draco scolded. “Better wait outside.”
Greyback suddenly seemed very small and hurt. Draco almost thought he was about to whine, but the werewolf turned on his heel and left the shop, placing himself before the entrance, arms crossed in front of his chest. Maybe there was a cute puppy hiding behind the façade of the cruel wolf. Draco’s mouth twitched at the thought of Greyback curled up in his lap and taking a little nap.
Nobody else would think Fenrir Greyback was cute, and it certainly seemed the owner of the shop had been scared of the werewolf, because he suddenly appeared in front of Draco to grant him every wish he could express. Probably just because he was the only customer in the shop, or maybe because he had more money than ordinary customers, or because he had a werewolf as his bodyguard…
Draco left the shop smirking, patting Greyback on the back so he moved out of the way. “Here… Take it if you like,” he said, handing a Lemon Ice Lolly to Greyback, who growled in confusion.
“Lemon?” Greyback sniffed at the sweet and examined it curiously. “I like lemon…”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Really? I would’ve never thought about that…” He waved at Greyback to follow him back to the Leaky Cauldron.
“Always thought Dumby would taste like lemon,” Greyback muttered as he caught up to Draco, who tried to ignore that inappropriate comment. “I carry your bags.”
Draco shook his head. “They aren’t heavy. But thank you,” he said, flashing Greyback a smile.
The werewolf shrugged and licked his lollypop, looking like a cute puppy once more and forcing a smirk on Draco’s face. Nobody should be scared of that man. It seemed ridiculous that he had ever been afraid of Fenrir Greyback, who was just looking for someone who would scratch him behind his ears, probably.
“Nobody’s inside the Leaky Cauldron…” Draco said as they reentered the pub, but found nothing more than dust particles flying through the air. “Where do I get some wine now?” He looked at Greyback questioningly, then reminded himself that Greyback’s brain was surely too small to be useful at all. Clutching his bags Draco stood on tiptoes to look directly into Greyback’s eyes, but the werewolf shifted his gaze away immediately. “Yeah, why do I ask you?” Snorting, Draco turned away again and pursed his lower lip, then began chewing on it.
A little while later Draco became aware that Greyback was clearing his throat. At first he had thought it was simply the kind of unpleasant noise one often heard inside an old house, and the Leaky Cauldron had definitely seen better days.
“What?” Draco hissed as he finally noticed that Greyback was trying to get his attention.
“I can get you some wine,” Greyback suggested. “But it’s not a place delicate… err, little children should go to, so just wait at home, okay?”
Draco frowned. “Why would you do that?” he asked suspiciously.
“Because Snape’s going to kill me if you get hurt,” Greyback said, sucking on his lollypop until he noticed Draco’s puzzled expression. “And because of this thing!” He waved the lollypop and grinned, showing his pointed teeth once more. “It’s probably the second best tasting thing in the world. It’s been years since I had candy… Unless you count a girl named Candy… uhm…” He paused as he noticed Draco’s big eyes. “What?”
Draco shook his head. “Nothing… I think I get what you mean… Well, then…” He nodded goodbye to Greyback and turned slowly around, throwing a last glance over his shoulder. “So… you’ll come as soon as possible back to the Manor? I want the presents there before Father returns.”
“Sure.” Greyback grimaced at him, in what Draco assumed was supposed to be an encouraging smile. “I’ll get you the best thing. Promise. Until then you can… uhm…” He scratched his head and Draco rolled his eyes.
“Brew Father some Pepper-Up Potion?” Draco smirked. “I don’t need you to tell me how to spend my time. Just make sure you come back in time, Greyback. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long and want it to be perfect.”
Greyback gave him another once-over. “Missed daddy, huh?”
“Very much,” Draco agreed. He stepped backwards, turned gracefully and vanished on the spot with a cracking noise.
The Manor was empty for a change. Draco could not find his aunt anywhere in the whole house, but he was not at all disappointed. With nobody around he had plenty of time to prepare his father’s room personally. Well, with a little help from the house-elves, of course. He made sure everything was perfect, except one thing…
Even in the late afternoon Greyback had not yet returned with Draco’s wine. He should have known that he could not count on Greyback in an important case like this. On the other hand Draco found that he was a little worried. Maybe something had happened to Greyback at that place “where delicate children should not go.” But Greyback was still sort of the alpha leader of his pack of werewolves and in the end Draco assumed that he had gone there; surely nobody would do him any harm, just because Greyback smelled like lemon and had candy with him…
Draco returned to his room and stayed there the rest of the afternoon, watching a weird mist slowly cover the grounds of Malfoy Manor. The moon was not full yet, so he need not be afraid that Greyback would return as a transformed werewolf; then again, it did not make a big difference, as Greyback had developed a taste for human flesh even in his human form – not that Draco had noticed anything like that today. Actually, Greyback had been – or at least he had tried to be – a nice wolf.
The night sky was dark and grey clouds hid the stars completely. Only the crescent moon illuminated the grounds, and even through the foggy clouds gave the environment a scary atmosphere; it reminded Draco of the places where the Dementors appeared. Just as he thought that his father would not appreciate such a comparison, he heard some strange noises in the hallway.
Cautiously, Draco opened his door and looked down the dark corridor, not spotting anyone, but once more he heard the strange noises. Pulling all his courage together, Draco left his room and went down the corridors until he reached the door to his father’s bedroom, which stood open.
“Mother?” he asked, slipping quietly into the room. But it was certainly not his mother who stood there in front of the window, illuminated by the shimmering moonlight. “Father?” The figure whirled around and Draco gasped, taking a step back against the wall. “Greyback, you made me jump.”
The werewolf did not answer, but stared at Draco out of flashing yellow eyes, which did not seem to need light to glow in contrast with the dark environment. His long nails scratched over the glass of a bottle, not a pleasant sound, but Draco did not care as long as he got his wine.
“Uhm…” Draco grinned, assuming Greyback’s eyes would notice that even in the dark. “You got the wine? That’s great. Thanks… Took you a bit long…”
“Yeah,” Greyback said, his voice raspy and horse. “We had a little problem. Somebody sneaking around.”
“So-somebody?” Draco gulped. Maybe it was the all-consuming darkness surrounding them but something was very different. Greyback could no longer be compared to a cute puppy at all. He seemed in fact as if he were trying to choke back anger, but Draco had not done anything to make Greyback furious. He was quite sure that this was only in his imagination.
“I scarred him as you were supposed to kill Dumby,” Greyback said, slowly approaching Draco. “He tasted like lamb with mint sauce. Though weasel would have been a more suitable flavor for him.”
Draco blinked, and Greyback seemed to find the puzzlement in his eyes amusing. “I assume you… you could handle him?” he asked, feeling like a trapped animal as Greyback stopped right in front of him, looking down at him and licking his lips. “You didn’t get… hurt?” There was a smell of blood, but as Greyback burst into barking laughter Draco figured that it must not be Greyback’s blood.
“You’re worried, kid?” Greyback reached out and draw a line with his long fingernail over Draco’s cheek, before cupping it in the palm of his hand.
Draco gulped. “Just about my wine,” he said bravely, and Greyback seemed to enjoy the tremor in his voice. “You… You can give…”
“Ah, ah…” Greyback hid the bottle behind his back; the long nails of his free hand wove into the hair of Draco’s neck, while his thumb stroked the edge of Draco’s jaw. It was an almost gentle gesture and Draco realized that he did not feel the urge to shove Greyback away, though he was only inches from him. Draco felt like a child compared to Greyback, who was taller by a head and broad enough to hide two Dracos.
“You owe me something, Draco,” Greyback whispered.
Draco stared up at him, mesmerized by the gleaming eyes of the werewolf. “You want another Lemon Ice Lolly?” he asked. His voice too strained to speak properly, and the words were breathed rather than spoken.
Greyback smirked, bringing his lips close to Draco’s. “I’m quite sure you taste better,” he said, full of anticipation. “I want to taste you since the first time I saw you.”
Draco swallowed. The feel of Greyback’s erratic breath on his lips sent chills down his spine. But Draco just stood there, leaning against the wall, not daring to move closer. He was not sure if he wanted anything like this. Greyback’s lips so close to his, or the heat of the other body, caused him to shiver, but he automatically followed Greyback’s mouth as the werewolf pulled away a little.
Draco stumbled forwards, sliding against Greyback, who still had a hand buried in Draco’s hair and now forcefully gripped the side of Draco’s neck, pulling him closer. The only thing Draco could manage to do was dig his fingers into the fabric of Greyback’s coat, clinging to the werewolf, who gave him a bruising kiss, holding his head in place as he let out a muffled moan.
Draco’s hands were shaking, but he managed to reach behind Greyback’s back, touching the neck of the bottle. Greyback broke the kiss at that, giving Draco a teasing bite on his lower lip.
“No,” he rasped against Draco’s swollen lips, placing the bottle on a cupboard. “I want more.” His hands moved down, grabbing Draco’s legs and literally yanking them up, so that the blond nearly lost his balance as he was lifted up. Frightened of falling, Draco wrapped his arms around Greyback’s neck, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that he should not be carried around like this by Fenrir Greyback of all people. But it seemed surreal, too far away to concentrate on.
“Let me down,” Draco managed hoarsely, as Greyback whirled them around, so fast that Draco grew dizzy and tightened his grip. “Greyback, that’s not… funny…”
“It’s not supposed to be,” Greyback said against Draco’s lips, before capturing them again. And this time there was nothing pleasant about it; it was repulsive. The whiskers scratched Draco’s sensitive skin and Greyback’s teeth hurt his lips, but before Draco could think about the possibility that bite marks from Greyback might never heal completely, the werewolf attacked his throat, forcing Draco to moan in pain.
“Stop!” Draco yelled, slamming his fist against Greyback’s back. “Stop it!”
Greyback did not stop; instead he threw Draco on the bed, which had been prepared by the house-elves for Lucius’ arrival, not for an animal crawling on it and attacking his son. Draco tasted blood on his lips as he moved away to the edge of the bed.
“Stop,” Draco repeated, his voice barely audible. “Stay there or I’ll scream.”
Greyback laughed. “For whom? Nobody’s here except your mother and she’ll never hear you. Just enjoy yourself, kid,” he said, grabbing Draco’s leg and dragging him closer.
Draco tried to catch hold of something, but a pillow was useless and Greyback was too strong for him to escape anyway. Quaking on the sheets Draco looked up at the huge body about to bury him. He struggled desperately as Greyback fell heavily on top of him, forcing his arms down to his sides.
“Stop! Why are you doing this? How dare you! Don’t touch me! I…” Draco gasped as Greyback ripped his shirt off of his body in one smooth motion. “You don’t…” Draco became aware of the true magnitude of Greyback’s hands, which scraped over his chest before digging deep into his flesh, making Draco cry out in pain.
“Haven’t I passed the test yet?” Greyback asked softly. “Don’t you finally like me, Draco? I tried so hard. Even got into trouble with Snape because of you.”
Draco’s eyes widened. “You didn’t hurt Severus, did you? Greyback, you animal! Go away!” He thrashed his head from side to side as Greyback tried to kiss him once more. “Leave me in peace!”
“No,” Greyback said in a low voice. “I finally have you. You are at my mercy…” He grabbed Draco’s thin wrists and shoved them over his head, where he held them with one hand, pressing the other between Draco’s legs. “And you look so beautiful right now.” The heated fingers drove Draco mad, balancing him on the knife-edge of appealing protest and mindless encouragement. “See… You like that…”
Draco shook his head, trying to dislodge the werewolf. “Get off!” He choked on his words, writhingly wildly under Greyback’s hands and twisting the sheets. “Get off…” He sobbed, but no tears were streaming down his face yet. “Please…”
“I can’t,” Greyback chortled. “Don’t you understand how much I need you? Your taste, Draco? I need to…” Licking his lips Greyback leaned forwards and tried to kiss Draco, who turned his face and buried it in the pillow, disgusted by the feel of Greyback’s tongue moving over his cheek, his jaw, his throat.
“Ah!” Draco screamed as Greyback’s teeth worked painfully on his throat, bringing blood to the surface, painting a mark that would probably never vanish again.
“When the full moon comes I can make you mine,” Greyback whispered, placing wet kisses on the bruises he had caused. Draco’s arms lay limp on the sheets as Greyback released his wrists, trailing long nails, sharp as knives, over the sensitive skin of Draco’s throat. “Forever…”
Draco shut his eyes tightly as the hand in his trousers began to move with slow but harsh strokes. He felt a panting mouth rest against his ear, while hot blood ran down his throat onto the sheets, tainting the white silk a deep red.
“You’ll understand, Draco,” Greyback muttered, his breath bathing Draco’s ear in foulness. “If I make you mine you –”
“Get off, Greyback,” a voice yelled from behind the werewolf, who growled in frustration but jumped up.
Draco took a deep breath as he was released from the heavy weight, but his throat hurt so much it was difficult to breathe. Placing a hand on the wound Draco sat up, searching for his shirt. He pressed the fabric against the injury, catching sight of the figure that stood in the middle of the room, wand pointing at Greyback.
“You’re still alive?” Greyback rasped, stretching his arms slowly out.
“I told you I would finish you tonight,” the man said. Draco did not recognize him, but he saw long red hair flashing in the moonlight and remembered what Greyback had said not long ago about one of the Weasley sons being injured the night of Draco’s failure.
“You can’t,” Greyback said. His next move was so fast Draco could barely see the movement. Suddenly the man fell backwards, Greyback on top of him and wand out of his reach, rolling over the floor. Draco did not move at first, still shocked and terrified, but for once in his life he forced himself to scrape together all the courage he possessed and jumped off the bed.
He seized the wand, pointed it at the werewolf and yelled: “Impedimenta!” The curse hit Greyback in the back, but did not seem strong enough to do any more harm than lifting him off his feet and slamming him against the wall, where his huge figure smashed Lucius’ favorite painting.
“My wand. Give it back!” The man – Draco was sure now it was a Weasley – was on his feet again, ripping his wand out of Draco’s hand and pointing it at Greyback, who howled painfully. “Stay close to me.”
Draco pressed his shirt tighter against his still-bleeding throat, taking a step backwards and looking over Weasley’s shoulder, directly into Greyback’s yellow eyes. Draco was unable to look away, although he tried. There was something other than wrath sparkling in Greyback’s eyes. Something that almost made Draco feel bad, but he shook his head and with that the pity shut off. He closed his eyes tightly and clung to his shirt. A part of him had trusted Greyback, had wanted him, and this part had been betrayed, but even though the words were on Draco’s lips, he was not able to choose between ‘Kill him’ and ‘Don’t hurt him’, so he remained silent.
It was like that night on the Astronomy Tower. Draco felt the same cold night air rip at his lungs, the heat of a protective body close to him, and even the flash of light across his closed eyelids. He heard the two words he had never been able to speak passing Weasley’s lips so easily, and he heard Greyback howling. One last time.
“Let me see,” Weasley broke the silence, hands too suddenly on Draco’s throat. He backed off, staring at the other man in shock. “It’s okay. Let me see.” This time he reached out slowly, and Draco let him take the shirt away, exposing the injured skin of his throat.
Draco looked directly into the man’s blue eyes, the moonlight striking his face in shadows, and the scars… Draco’s teeth clamp down on his bottom lip and he shifted his gaze away, high-pitched whimpers escaping his throat as Weasley touched him.
“It’s not that bad,” he said, cupping Draco’s cheeks and forcing him to look at him again. “You hear me?” Draco nodded, blushing slightly as he noticed his bare chest. “You’re safe now, Ma–”
“Draco,” he interrupted, focusing his eyes on Weasley, not looking at the figure behind him which lay lifeless on the ground.
Weasley smiled. “I’m Bill. It’s okay now, Draco. He won’t hurt you anymore.”
Draco sniffed, biting the insides of his cheeks and trying not to cry in front of Weasley, who just wrapped an arm around Draco’s shaking shoulders and pressed him against his chest. Weasley murmured comforting words into Draco’s ear, holding him tight and giving him a feeling of safety. Draco let out the sobs which had wanted to escape his throat for so long, and clung to Weasley, muffling his cries in the curve of Bill’s neck.
The End
Author:
deathlydragon Prompt: #67, Little Red Riding Hood
Pairing(s): Fenrir/Draco
Summary: Lucius’ approaching return from Azkaban forces Draco to accept Fenrir Greyback’s help.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe, all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No money is made from this work.
Warning(s): Character death, cross-gen, non-con.
Word Count: 4.826
Author's Notes: This was really fun to write and I really hope you like it. Takes place in the summer holidays after Draco’s sixth year, but certainly not strictly canon. Oh, and special thanks and Lemon Ice Lollys to my betas! :)
Malfoy Manor seemed strangely silent and empty without Lucius around. Draco Malfoy lay on his bed under twisted sheets, the heat of the summer making him restless. The tiredness of a sleepless night was painful, and with his father still in Azkaban he eventually gave up the idea of sleep.
A golden brightness appeared on the horizon, much too bright for Draco’s burning eyes. He buried his face in his pillow again, as somebody pulled the curtains open.
“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder –”
“Bellatrix!” Draco rolled onto his back and came very close to throwing his pillow right into the horrible face of his aunt. “What’re you doing here?” he muttered instead and tried to turn over again to find comfort in his pillow. Actually, the only place in this dreadful house he still liked was his room, but his aunt sneaked into it more and more often, while his mother locked herself in Lucius’ study, leaving her son alone with the dark creatures that Bellatrix had invited to his home.
Bellatrix kept him from finding comfort; she gripped Draco’s shoulder, her long, blood-tainted nails digging deep into his flesh as she turned him over again. Her dark eyes were sparkling with that usual obsessive shimmer, which had started to bore Draco. He knew his aunt would never do him any harm, except for sneaking into his bedroom and singing strange lullabies to her Little Star…
“That moron of a father of yours is coming out, soon,” Bellatrix said melodiously, and Draco’s eyes widened. He sat up and opened his mouth, but could not manage to say anything, and Bellatrix seemed to suppress a mad giggle. “No, Lucius is not gay, as far as I know. The Dark Lord is demonstrating his indescribable generosity. Not that he’ll forgive you so soon, Dray-Dray, my little star, but you should feel lucky that I love you so much.” She sighed and pinched Draco’s cheek. “I keep you safe, my pretty nephew.”
“Yeah…” Draco gripped Bellatrix’s wrist and shoved her away. “Thanks for telling me. When will Father be back?” he asked curiously, quirking his head to the side. He was sure that as soon as Lucius was back in his house everything would be all right again and he would be able to do other things than lying in his bed all day.
“Probably tonight,” Bellatrix said and stood up again. “But he’ll be tired by the Dark Lord’s punishment, my own Cruciatus curse and because of your mother’s…” She paused as Draco stared at her in shock. “Oh, don’t be sad, Dray-Dray. He’ll be all right and you can play with him again. Just buy him some nice things at Diagon Alley, Pepper-Up Potion, Forgetfulness Potion, Elixir of Life…” Draco blinked. “Or some sweets and Elf-made wine. I’m sure that greasy bastard Snape can accompany you to Diagon Alley. We don’t want to lose our shining star, yes? The house looks so dark without you…”
“Eh, yeah…” Draco forced himself to smile. Bellatrix winked at him and finally left his room. Draco was thankful that Snape would accompany him to Diagon Alley, because Bellatrix was, after all, still a woman, and women loved shopping. Snape did not. Well… as far as Draco knew he did not.
Draco left the house clad in black velvet robes, which would have gone well with Snape’s usual black ones, but in the end, it was not Snape who would accompany him for his safety. In the entrance hall stood a large broad figure with matted grey hair. Draco could not say that he was pleased to see Fenrir Greyback… or smell him. It seemed that Greyback had tried to shower, but in the end all the smells of dirt, blood and now a lemon fragrance had mingled. Somehow Draco could not stop himself from sniffing, because it was a fascinating mixture.
“Draco!” Greyback said with his raspy voice. “There you are… Looking good… delicious, more than before.” Greyback licked his lips, reached out for Draco and patted him on the shoulder.
“I thought Severus would come with me,” Draco said, trying to sound as confident as always, but he could not prevent his voice from lowering. It was hard to maintain control with Greyback and his extraordinary desire for human flesh by his side.
“Snape’s busy,” Greyback rasped. “He trusts me.”
Draco skeptically raised his eyebrow. “Is that so? Well, then…” He cleared his throat, eyes taking in the sight of Greyback’s long yellowish fingernails. “We take the Floo, I suppose?”
Greyback grinned and showed his pointed teeth. Once more he reached out for Draco and placed a hand on his shoulder, exerting just enough pressure to make him move, but surprisingly the werewolf did not hurt him.
They stepped into the flames and named their desired destination, but by the time they arrived Draco’s robes looked horrible. He felt like a dirty Weasley with dust and ashes all over the expensive fabric, but it seemed likely nobody would notice because the Leaky Cauldron was empty. The Wizards were scared and did not dare to leave the safety of their homes. And Draco was stupid enough to go on a shopping trip with a werewolf.
“Where do you want to go?” Greyback asked smiling and his whole face seemed to illuminate as Draco looked at him.
Draco suddenly felt even more uncomfortable. “Uhm… I need some things for Father’s return…”
Greyback nodded eagerly. “Yes, poor Lucius… Spending over a year in Azkaban. He has probably lost his mind, and that you can’t buy him, my dear Draco.”
“Some sweets will do,” Draco said, trying to ignore the fact that everyone around him was going insane, even without being at Azkaban. He was not sure if his father would be very pleased to find so many similarities between Azkaban and Malfoy Manor, but he hoped to make Lucius feel better by handing over some presents. “And wine, probably…”
“Ah, alcohol is good for the soul,” Greyback said, nodding. He beamed at Draco and motioned him out of the empty pub. Diagon Alley was nothing like Draco remembered. Old editions of the Daily Prophet flew through the air and garbage littered the ground. Any people he saw immediately walked away as fast as they could when they noticed Draco… Well, they probably walked away because Greyback growled at them and not because a pale, thin Wizard shifted his gaze to the ground.
“I just hope Father’s still got his soul,” Draco muttered as Greyback pulled him down the street. “Is there anybody inside the shops or are we just taking whatever we need?” he asked.
Greyback shrugged. “What you like best,” he said. Draco looked at him with big eyes. “You need to be a bit more evil, little one. I can show you how to bare your teeth…”
“Err, thank you, but no thank you,” Draco said and almost felt pity for the glance Greyback showed him. He looked like a puppy kicked while out in the rain, and Draco felt a bit embarrassed to have rejected the werewolf like that. A second later he shook that thought off. He would certainly not sit down on a park bench with Fenrir Greyback and practice how to bare his teeth and steal little children’s lollipops.
“Just trying to help…” Greyback said and shrugged. “You don’t have to be frightened of me.”
Draco eyes widened once more. He hoped that he had not been that obvious, but his frosty façade seemed to have melted with his father’s imprisonment and all his confidence was gone since he had not been able to kill that old bastard Dumbledore. Maybe Greyback was right and he should practice… being a Death Eater. But he would ask Bellatrix for help and not a dirty werewolf.
“I’m not scared of you,” Draco said and straightened. “And even if I were, it would be none of your business. You’re just here to accompany me, so others like you don’t try to eat me.”
“I never thought about eating you,” Greyback barked, pressing his lips together as Draco looked at him, soundlessly forming the word ‘delicious’. Raising his big hand Greyback pointed with a yellowish nail towards Sugarplum’s Sweetshop, which looked dark and empty. Draco turned and approached the shop, feeling slightly miserable by the thought of having hurt Greyback’s feelings… somehow. In the end he could not tell how Greyback had meant that ‘delicious’. Maybe he was just showing his affection in a really weird way. Draco grimaced and shook his head in disbelief, before he opened the door and entered the sweetshop, frowning slightly as he was enveloped by the familiar warm, toffee-scented air.
“Looks like always,” he muttered, taking in the sight of the empty but clean shop. He could not imagine that the owner wanted to keep customers away, but his windows were not looking inviting at all.
“Yeah… uhm, probably,” Greyback said from behind him.
Draco frowned. He forgot that Greyback’s last time in a sweetshop must have been ages ago and somehow he felt pity; Greyback must have felt like in a sweetshop when he had been allowed to enter Hogwarts. And Draco was still regretting that. He knew that his friends had survived the night that the Death Eaters came to Hogwarts, but the thought of Greyback hurting them had caused him several sleepless nights.
“Hello?” Draco looked around but saw nobody behind the counter. “I have money,” he called seductively. “Lots of money!”
Greyback let out a bark of laughter, but immediately pressed a hand against his mouth as Draco scowled at him.
“You’re frightening the owner,” Draco scolded. “Better wait outside.”
Greyback suddenly seemed very small and hurt. Draco almost thought he was about to whine, but the werewolf turned on his heel and left the shop, placing himself before the entrance, arms crossed in front of his chest. Maybe there was a cute puppy hiding behind the façade of the cruel wolf. Draco’s mouth twitched at the thought of Greyback curled up in his lap and taking a little nap.
Nobody else would think Fenrir Greyback was cute, and it certainly seemed the owner of the shop had been scared of the werewolf, because he suddenly appeared in front of Draco to grant him every wish he could express. Probably just because he was the only customer in the shop, or maybe because he had more money than ordinary customers, or because he had a werewolf as his bodyguard…
Draco left the shop smirking, patting Greyback on the back so he moved out of the way. “Here… Take it if you like,” he said, handing a Lemon Ice Lolly to Greyback, who growled in confusion.
“Lemon?” Greyback sniffed at the sweet and examined it curiously. “I like lemon…”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Really? I would’ve never thought about that…” He waved at Greyback to follow him back to the Leaky Cauldron.
“Always thought Dumby would taste like lemon,” Greyback muttered as he caught up to Draco, who tried to ignore that inappropriate comment. “I carry your bags.”
Draco shook his head. “They aren’t heavy. But thank you,” he said, flashing Greyback a smile.
The werewolf shrugged and licked his lollypop, looking like a cute puppy once more and forcing a smirk on Draco’s face. Nobody should be scared of that man. It seemed ridiculous that he had ever been afraid of Fenrir Greyback, who was just looking for someone who would scratch him behind his ears, probably.
“Nobody’s inside the Leaky Cauldron…” Draco said as they reentered the pub, but found nothing more than dust particles flying through the air. “Where do I get some wine now?” He looked at Greyback questioningly, then reminded himself that Greyback’s brain was surely too small to be useful at all. Clutching his bags Draco stood on tiptoes to look directly into Greyback’s eyes, but the werewolf shifted his gaze away immediately. “Yeah, why do I ask you?” Snorting, Draco turned away again and pursed his lower lip, then began chewing on it.
A little while later Draco became aware that Greyback was clearing his throat. At first he had thought it was simply the kind of unpleasant noise one often heard inside an old house, and the Leaky Cauldron had definitely seen better days.
“What?” Draco hissed as he finally noticed that Greyback was trying to get his attention.
“I can get you some wine,” Greyback suggested. “But it’s not a place delicate… err, little children should go to, so just wait at home, okay?”
Draco frowned. “Why would you do that?” he asked suspiciously.
“Because Snape’s going to kill me if you get hurt,” Greyback said, sucking on his lollypop until he noticed Draco’s puzzled expression. “And because of this thing!” He waved the lollypop and grinned, showing his pointed teeth once more. “It’s probably the second best tasting thing in the world. It’s been years since I had candy… Unless you count a girl named Candy… uhm…” He paused as he noticed Draco’s big eyes. “What?”
Draco shook his head. “Nothing… I think I get what you mean… Well, then…” He nodded goodbye to Greyback and turned slowly around, throwing a last glance over his shoulder. “So… you’ll come as soon as possible back to the Manor? I want the presents there before Father returns.”
“Sure.” Greyback grimaced at him, in what Draco assumed was supposed to be an encouraging smile. “I’ll get you the best thing. Promise. Until then you can… uhm…” He scratched his head and Draco rolled his eyes.
“Brew Father some Pepper-Up Potion?” Draco smirked. “I don’t need you to tell me how to spend my time. Just make sure you come back in time, Greyback. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long and want it to be perfect.”
Greyback gave him another once-over. “Missed daddy, huh?”
“Very much,” Draco agreed. He stepped backwards, turned gracefully and vanished on the spot with a cracking noise.
The Manor was empty for a change. Draco could not find his aunt anywhere in the whole house, but he was not at all disappointed. With nobody around he had plenty of time to prepare his father’s room personally. Well, with a little help from the house-elves, of course. He made sure everything was perfect, except one thing…
Even in the late afternoon Greyback had not yet returned with Draco’s wine. He should have known that he could not count on Greyback in an important case like this. On the other hand Draco found that he was a little worried. Maybe something had happened to Greyback at that place “where delicate children should not go.” But Greyback was still sort of the alpha leader of his pack of werewolves and in the end Draco assumed that he had gone there; surely nobody would do him any harm, just because Greyback smelled like lemon and had candy with him…
Draco returned to his room and stayed there the rest of the afternoon, watching a weird mist slowly cover the grounds of Malfoy Manor. The moon was not full yet, so he need not be afraid that Greyback would return as a transformed werewolf; then again, it did not make a big difference, as Greyback had developed a taste for human flesh even in his human form – not that Draco had noticed anything like that today. Actually, Greyback had been – or at least he had tried to be – a nice wolf.
The night sky was dark and grey clouds hid the stars completely. Only the crescent moon illuminated the grounds, and even through the foggy clouds gave the environment a scary atmosphere; it reminded Draco of the places where the Dementors appeared. Just as he thought that his father would not appreciate such a comparison, he heard some strange noises in the hallway.
Cautiously, Draco opened his door and looked down the dark corridor, not spotting anyone, but once more he heard the strange noises. Pulling all his courage together, Draco left his room and went down the corridors until he reached the door to his father’s bedroom, which stood open.
“Mother?” he asked, slipping quietly into the room. But it was certainly not his mother who stood there in front of the window, illuminated by the shimmering moonlight. “Father?” The figure whirled around and Draco gasped, taking a step back against the wall. “Greyback, you made me jump.”
The werewolf did not answer, but stared at Draco out of flashing yellow eyes, which did not seem to need light to glow in contrast with the dark environment. His long nails scratched over the glass of a bottle, not a pleasant sound, but Draco did not care as long as he got his wine.
“Uhm…” Draco grinned, assuming Greyback’s eyes would notice that even in the dark. “You got the wine? That’s great. Thanks… Took you a bit long…”
“Yeah,” Greyback said, his voice raspy and horse. “We had a little problem. Somebody sneaking around.”
“So-somebody?” Draco gulped. Maybe it was the all-consuming darkness surrounding them but something was very different. Greyback could no longer be compared to a cute puppy at all. He seemed in fact as if he were trying to choke back anger, but Draco had not done anything to make Greyback furious. He was quite sure that this was only in his imagination.
“I scarred him as you were supposed to kill Dumby,” Greyback said, slowly approaching Draco. “He tasted like lamb with mint sauce. Though weasel would have been a more suitable flavor for him.”
Draco blinked, and Greyback seemed to find the puzzlement in his eyes amusing. “I assume you… you could handle him?” he asked, feeling like a trapped animal as Greyback stopped right in front of him, looking down at him and licking his lips. “You didn’t get… hurt?” There was a smell of blood, but as Greyback burst into barking laughter Draco figured that it must not be Greyback’s blood.
“You’re worried, kid?” Greyback reached out and draw a line with his long fingernail over Draco’s cheek, before cupping it in the palm of his hand.
Draco gulped. “Just about my wine,” he said bravely, and Greyback seemed to enjoy the tremor in his voice. “You… You can give…”
“Ah, ah…” Greyback hid the bottle behind his back; the long nails of his free hand wove into the hair of Draco’s neck, while his thumb stroked the edge of Draco’s jaw. It was an almost gentle gesture and Draco realized that he did not feel the urge to shove Greyback away, though he was only inches from him. Draco felt like a child compared to Greyback, who was taller by a head and broad enough to hide two Dracos.
“You owe me something, Draco,” Greyback whispered.
Draco stared up at him, mesmerized by the gleaming eyes of the werewolf. “You want another Lemon Ice Lolly?” he asked. His voice too strained to speak properly, and the words were breathed rather than spoken.
Greyback smirked, bringing his lips close to Draco’s. “I’m quite sure you taste better,” he said, full of anticipation. “I want to taste you since the first time I saw you.”
Draco swallowed. The feel of Greyback’s erratic breath on his lips sent chills down his spine. But Draco just stood there, leaning against the wall, not daring to move closer. He was not sure if he wanted anything like this. Greyback’s lips so close to his, or the heat of the other body, caused him to shiver, but he automatically followed Greyback’s mouth as the werewolf pulled away a little.
Draco stumbled forwards, sliding against Greyback, who still had a hand buried in Draco’s hair and now forcefully gripped the side of Draco’s neck, pulling him closer. The only thing Draco could manage to do was dig his fingers into the fabric of Greyback’s coat, clinging to the werewolf, who gave him a bruising kiss, holding his head in place as he let out a muffled moan.
Draco’s hands were shaking, but he managed to reach behind Greyback’s back, touching the neck of the bottle. Greyback broke the kiss at that, giving Draco a teasing bite on his lower lip.
“No,” he rasped against Draco’s swollen lips, placing the bottle on a cupboard. “I want more.” His hands moved down, grabbing Draco’s legs and literally yanking them up, so that the blond nearly lost his balance as he was lifted up. Frightened of falling, Draco wrapped his arms around Greyback’s neck, realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that he should not be carried around like this by Fenrir Greyback of all people. But it seemed surreal, too far away to concentrate on.
“Let me down,” Draco managed hoarsely, as Greyback whirled them around, so fast that Draco grew dizzy and tightened his grip. “Greyback, that’s not… funny…”
“It’s not supposed to be,” Greyback said against Draco’s lips, before capturing them again. And this time there was nothing pleasant about it; it was repulsive. The whiskers scratched Draco’s sensitive skin and Greyback’s teeth hurt his lips, but before Draco could think about the possibility that bite marks from Greyback might never heal completely, the werewolf attacked his throat, forcing Draco to moan in pain.
“Stop!” Draco yelled, slamming his fist against Greyback’s back. “Stop it!”
Greyback did not stop; instead he threw Draco on the bed, which had been prepared by the house-elves for Lucius’ arrival, not for an animal crawling on it and attacking his son. Draco tasted blood on his lips as he moved away to the edge of the bed.
“Stop,” Draco repeated, his voice barely audible. “Stay there or I’ll scream.”
Greyback laughed. “For whom? Nobody’s here except your mother and she’ll never hear you. Just enjoy yourself, kid,” he said, grabbing Draco’s leg and dragging him closer.
Draco tried to catch hold of something, but a pillow was useless and Greyback was too strong for him to escape anyway. Quaking on the sheets Draco looked up at the huge body about to bury him. He struggled desperately as Greyback fell heavily on top of him, forcing his arms down to his sides.
“Stop! Why are you doing this? How dare you! Don’t touch me! I…” Draco gasped as Greyback ripped his shirt off of his body in one smooth motion. “You don’t…” Draco became aware of the true magnitude of Greyback’s hands, which scraped over his chest before digging deep into his flesh, making Draco cry out in pain.
“Haven’t I passed the test yet?” Greyback asked softly. “Don’t you finally like me, Draco? I tried so hard. Even got into trouble with Snape because of you.”
Draco’s eyes widened. “You didn’t hurt Severus, did you? Greyback, you animal! Go away!” He thrashed his head from side to side as Greyback tried to kiss him once more. “Leave me in peace!”
“No,” Greyback said in a low voice. “I finally have you. You are at my mercy…” He grabbed Draco’s thin wrists and shoved them over his head, where he held them with one hand, pressing the other between Draco’s legs. “And you look so beautiful right now.” The heated fingers drove Draco mad, balancing him on the knife-edge of appealing protest and mindless encouragement. “See… You like that…”
Draco shook his head, trying to dislodge the werewolf. “Get off!” He choked on his words, writhingly wildly under Greyback’s hands and twisting the sheets. “Get off…” He sobbed, but no tears were streaming down his face yet. “Please…”
“I can’t,” Greyback chortled. “Don’t you understand how much I need you? Your taste, Draco? I need to…” Licking his lips Greyback leaned forwards and tried to kiss Draco, who turned his face and buried it in the pillow, disgusted by the feel of Greyback’s tongue moving over his cheek, his jaw, his throat.
“Ah!” Draco screamed as Greyback’s teeth worked painfully on his throat, bringing blood to the surface, painting a mark that would probably never vanish again.
“When the full moon comes I can make you mine,” Greyback whispered, placing wet kisses on the bruises he had caused. Draco’s arms lay limp on the sheets as Greyback released his wrists, trailing long nails, sharp as knives, over the sensitive skin of Draco’s throat. “Forever…”
Draco shut his eyes tightly as the hand in his trousers began to move with slow but harsh strokes. He felt a panting mouth rest against his ear, while hot blood ran down his throat onto the sheets, tainting the white silk a deep red.
“You’ll understand, Draco,” Greyback muttered, his breath bathing Draco’s ear in foulness. “If I make you mine you –”
“Get off, Greyback,” a voice yelled from behind the werewolf, who growled in frustration but jumped up.
Draco took a deep breath as he was released from the heavy weight, but his throat hurt so much it was difficult to breathe. Placing a hand on the wound Draco sat up, searching for his shirt. He pressed the fabric against the injury, catching sight of the figure that stood in the middle of the room, wand pointing at Greyback.
“You’re still alive?” Greyback rasped, stretching his arms slowly out.
“I told you I would finish you tonight,” the man said. Draco did not recognize him, but he saw long red hair flashing in the moonlight and remembered what Greyback had said not long ago about one of the Weasley sons being injured the night of Draco’s failure.
“You can’t,” Greyback said. His next move was so fast Draco could barely see the movement. Suddenly the man fell backwards, Greyback on top of him and wand out of his reach, rolling over the floor. Draco did not move at first, still shocked and terrified, but for once in his life he forced himself to scrape together all the courage he possessed and jumped off the bed.
He seized the wand, pointed it at the werewolf and yelled: “Impedimenta!” The curse hit Greyback in the back, but did not seem strong enough to do any more harm than lifting him off his feet and slamming him against the wall, where his huge figure smashed Lucius’ favorite painting.
“My wand. Give it back!” The man – Draco was sure now it was a Weasley – was on his feet again, ripping his wand out of Draco’s hand and pointing it at Greyback, who howled painfully. “Stay close to me.”
Draco pressed his shirt tighter against his still-bleeding throat, taking a step backwards and looking over Weasley’s shoulder, directly into Greyback’s yellow eyes. Draco was unable to look away, although he tried. There was something other than wrath sparkling in Greyback’s eyes. Something that almost made Draco feel bad, but he shook his head and with that the pity shut off. He closed his eyes tightly and clung to his shirt. A part of him had trusted Greyback, had wanted him, and this part had been betrayed, but even though the words were on Draco’s lips, he was not able to choose between ‘Kill him’ and ‘Don’t hurt him’, so he remained silent.
It was like that night on the Astronomy Tower. Draco felt the same cold night air rip at his lungs, the heat of a protective body close to him, and even the flash of light across his closed eyelids. He heard the two words he had never been able to speak passing Weasley’s lips so easily, and he heard Greyback howling. One last time.
“Let me see,” Weasley broke the silence, hands too suddenly on Draco’s throat. He backed off, staring at the other man in shock. “It’s okay. Let me see.” This time he reached out slowly, and Draco let him take the shirt away, exposing the injured skin of his throat.
Draco looked directly into the man’s blue eyes, the moonlight striking his face in shadows, and the scars… Draco’s teeth clamp down on his bottom lip and he shifted his gaze away, high-pitched whimpers escaping his throat as Weasley touched him.
“It’s not that bad,” he said, cupping Draco’s cheeks and forcing him to look at him again. “You hear me?” Draco nodded, blushing slightly as he noticed his bare chest. “You’re safe now, Ma–”
“Draco,” he interrupted, focusing his eyes on Weasley, not looking at the figure behind him which lay lifeless on the ground.
Weasley smiled. “I’m Bill. It’s okay now, Draco. He won’t hurt you anymore.”
Draco sniffed, biting the insides of his cheeks and trying not to cry in front of Weasley, who just wrapped an arm around Draco’s shaking shoulders and pressed him against his chest. Weasley murmured comforting words into Draco’s ear, holding him tight and giving him a feeling of safety. Draco let out the sobs which had wanted to escape his throat for so long, and clung to Weasley, muffling his cries in the curve of Bill’s neck.
The End
