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Savage Seduction

By: mad4moony
folder Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Hermione/Fenrir
Rating: Adult +
Chapters: 23
Views: 30,501
Reviews: 83
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not make money from this. :(
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SPEW

Note: This is overdue. I’m sorry. Also this is a short chapter because I like how it ends and didn’t want to add more. Enjoy. Really just some filler. Also let me know in the reviews if you have any cool ideas for the story...I may consider. It is however running towards its end.



Savage Seduction


19



****









There was a deafening crack and the two figures appeared under the shade of a large oak tree. The witch staggered forward, unsettled by the travelling.



“This isn’t your house?” She mumbled before looking around. The werewolf who seemed remarkably distant stood still, and didn’t answer. By the time she had surveyed the area and approached him again he spoke warily.



“I thought you said you couldn’t hurt him?” The witch frowned, and then tried to laugh lightly.



“Oh Fenrir, it was only a game.” The werewolf took a step towards her, he tried to remain calm, but the irritation in his voice was evident as he went on.



“If you did that to me, I’d rip the guy’s heart out, and then make you choke on it.” He sneered, before adding lightly, his malevolence gone, “But as you said it was just a game...You’re lucky he’s not a fighter Hermione.”



The witch shivered as she watched the werewolf walk away from her. The sudden change from him frightened her, was it really a bad thing she did? Great, now her spirits were at rock bottom. She had no choice but to follow the werewolf – having no idea where she had taken them both. The witch had only thought of Fenrir’s home.



The werewolf stopped and looked back at her, she looked miserable. He heaved a sigh and waited for her to catch up, “It’s not the end of the world,” he smirked putting a heavy arm over her shoulder.



“Well you bloody well made me feel like it,” sniffed the witch but the werewolf shushed her. She was about to reply when a large pair or wrought iron gates seemed to loom out of nowhere. They towered over them both. The werewolf let his arm fall off her shoulder before approaching the gates to unlock them.



“Where are we?”



“Oh this? This is my home away from home.” The werewolf smirked again, holding the gates open for her, she couldn’t see very far in front of her, although she could feel a gravel path beneath her feet as she stepped inside. Suddenly there was barking, and Hermione twirled around to face a dark figure running speedily towards her, as it approached in a flurry she could see it was a dog of some sort. She gave a squeak as it jumped up on her, but suddenly there was a loud bark from the werewolf and the dog immediately stopped and lay down.



“There are more of them somewhere around here,” he stated. Hermione peered at the dog on the ground, it looked wolfish.



“What is it exactly? Are they yours?”



“They are half-wolves. I like to think of them as free-roaming, but they know I’m here if they need me. Now, come on, this way.” The werewolf took the edge of the witch’s arm and started walking her up the gravel path. As they rounded a curvature in the path the house became visible. Hermione gasped as a marvellous cream coloured Georgian house appeared in the darkness.



“Oh my god, it’s beautiful! This is yours? What about the other place?” The werewolf laughed quietly.



“You’d rather see that old place again?” After a short pause he continued, “I sold it and bought this one. I thought you’d like it better. Anyway it’s more remote and has more land. Better for me.” He ruffled the top of the wolf-dog’s head, as it had followed them up the path.



As the pair approached the front door, Fenrir stepped forward to unlock it. The huge oak door was heavy to push open, but not so much for the werewolf. He held it open for the witch to get in; inside was remarkably bright for it being so dark outside, Hermione was amazed. The inside was so grand, no way was this the work of Fenrir.



“It was already decorated when I bought it – Muggles,” he stated, locking the door after them as the witch stared at the entrance hall mystified. A huge chandelier hung with glowing yellow bulbs from the ceiling, the floor was carpeted with the most royal red colour. The walls tied in with expensive wallpaper, it was all remarkably decorated in the Georgian style.



“This place has electricity?” Hermione said perplexed, it had been ages since she had been somewhere with it.



“You mean this thing?” The werewolf flicked a switch on the wall and the lights shut off.



“Yes,” laughed Hermione. Of course he had electricity; he just didn’t know what it was exactly. The werewolf turned the lights on again and threw his jacket over a hat stand. “Does this place have a library?”



The werewolf shook his head, and then frowned. “Well it does, but it’s just muggle books.” The witch was curious.



“How exactly did you acquire this house? I know you said you bought it – but from muggles? Are you sure you just didn’t do what you did with the last house?” She said quietly. The werewolf strode across the entrance hall, and approached a large oak door.



“What, kill them? No, I try not to do that as much as I used to,” the witch gave a feeble laugh. The werewolf continued, “It was for sale and I bought it.”



“With muggle money?” The werewolf nodded.



“Most of my wealth lies in Muggle property and money. They don’t know who I am.”



“But they do – the prime minister was told about you – you know? As a safety issue.” The werewolf grunted at her and disappeared through the door, the witch followed.



“Yes but he’s a coward – he isn’t going to tell anyone about me. A werewolf? They’d kick him out of the government faster than you can say ‘I eat babies for breakfast.’”



“Charming,” said the witch, looking around the room they were in. It seemed like a kitchen, with a hearth and stove and rickety wooden table. There was parchment on the table with ink and quill. The witch approached it as the werewolf stoked the fire.



“Oh, can I use this? I really need to send a letter to Ginny.” Before she waited for an answer she had already sat down to look at it, but the paper wasn’t completely blank. There were a few inked letters on the top but she couldn’t make most of it out.



“I was trying to write you a letter,” said the werewolf quietly, without turning away from the fire. The witch gave a weak frown, and began to quickly scribble a message on the paper.



“Why didn’t you?” The werewolf put the poker back in its holder clumsily, and got up.



“I can’t write very well.” The witch was sealing the letter, it was only a brief note – she would send something longer later. When she heard what the werewolf had said she looked at him but he was avoiding eye contact. There was definitely something strange afoot but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I didn’t know what to say either.”



“Well can you think of something now?” She said getting up and pushing the chair in, he was still avoiding her gaze. Fenrir shook his head in reply and she stepped closer to him and deliberately made him look at her.



“What is wrong with you?” She laid her head against his chest, and felt his heart beat beneath his shirt. He smelt so good; she closed her eyes and waited for him to reply. When he didn’t she looked up at him again. “Please tell me?”



“I don’t know whether I’m doing the right thing,” he said with a sigh. Hermione frowned.



“Since when did you worry about the right thing?”



“This is serious. I don’t want you to get hurt. And...living here is not going to be easy. Everybody will find out one day. And I don’t want you to get hurt. I just don’t know if we should be doing this.” The witch frowned again, was Fenrir having a moment of Clarity?



“But I want you. I want to be here. I’m ready to give up everything else. I don’t care about it. If I have to live differently I don’t care. I don’t care what people say.” The werewolf gave a weak smile. If only she knew how hard it was going to get. He kissed her head, and closed his eyes.



“If you’re sure?”



“Just shut up and kiss me Fenrir,” she said matter-of-factly. He smirked and they dissolved into an amorous kiss. The witch smiled, “You’re such a good kisser.”



“Only since I met you,” said the werewolf kissing her neck. The witch broke away suddenly and looked at the table.



“I really have to send this before I forget, do you have an owl?” In reply the werewolf gave a fierce growl.



“Don’t like birds.” The witch tutted, how was she supposed to send it? Perhaps he had Floo powder. Before she could answer the werewolf barked an order.



“Jinsy!” There was a loud crack, and a house-elf appeared by his side. Hermione’s eyes widened. Granted SPEW had disbanded after School due to HELP (House Elf Liberation Party) already being established and knocking their little get together out of the water. But she still did not like the idea of a house-elf.



“What services does master require? - Sire?” Said the tiny house-elf, his speech staggered as he saw Hermione. Fenrir was staring at Hermione’s open mouth.



“You have a house-elf?” Puffed Hermione. The werewolf shrugged. “But, Fenrir, that’s cruelty, you shouldn’t have slaves.”



“He’s not a slave..”



“Indeed, Madam I am no slave. Master is kindest Master. He never asks too much of Jinsy, never asks Jinsy to clean or cook. Only errands sometimes. Master is good Master.” The House-elf bowed so low his gnarled nose touched the stone work floor. Hermione sniffed.



“Well I still don’t think its right. Him calling you master and all. You have to give him some clothes Fenrir, please-” But she was cut off by the house-elf, who had taken offence by her comment and bellowed;



“Master is Kind but not my only Master. I serve this house, and those within it. I belong to the house, and the house keeps me.”



“That’s right,” smirked Fenrir, “He doesn’t belong to me. He belongs to the Wizarding family that owned this house before the muggles. They all died, but Jinsy stayed to serve their house, hiding from the muggles.”



“But aren’t you lonely,” said Hermione, convinced she could free the poor beast.



“Madam I am not leaving this house. Jinsy is quite lonely sometimes. Master does not require Jinsy’s company much. But I will not leave. This is my home just as it is yours.”



“But don’t you have any family?” Asked Hermione, bending down to the house-elf’s level. The house-elf did not reply straight away. He played with the raggedy pillow case he was wearing as a tunic. It was obviously a child’s; embroidered with ponies and horse-shoes.



“There is only one. Jinsy has a sister, but she is very sick. Very sick. She had no family now. No family. Jinsy worries about her often. She does not speak to no one but Jinsy.”



“Then why don’t you bring her here Jinsy?” Hermione patted his bony shoulder, and stared up at Fenrir who was glaring daggers from behind the house-elf. “Yes bring her here to keep you company. She does not have to work, and neither do you. But you may live here.”



“Oh Madam, Madam I will always serve the house of my fore-fathers. But yes I will bring Bobbin here, for she is very ill, and will not speak,” he repeated twisting the pillow case further into a knot. “As long as Master says so, I will bring her here and look after poor Bobbin.” The house-elf looked gratefully towards his Master and Fenrir who had been looking stern for the whole conversation suddenly nodded solemnly as directed to by Hermione.



“Oh thank you, thank you,” He bowed low again, his nose scraping off the floor-tiles.



“Oh Jinsy, before you go, would you be able to deliver this letter to my friend,” added Hermione. The house-elf nodded cheerfully, and accepted the letter in her outstretched hand. He noted the address and with a bow and a pop he was gone.



As soon as he was gone Fenrir made such an exasperated face at Hermione, “Why? Why did you do that? Do you know how annoying they are?” He turned towards the sink, slamming his forearms against the sides and letting his head drop between them. Hermione frowned, but she was far too intrigued at the decor of the house to argue.



She approached what looked like the back door, it was heavily wooded and had a stained glass window on the upper halve. The witch peered out into the darkness, but she could see nothing. The werewolf was growling angrily from the sink, she rolled her eyes and went to approach him. She went to lay a hand on his back, but as soon as her fingertips touched him, his muscles rippled and he let out a piercing growl. She retracted immediately.



“Are- are you ok Fenrir?” Without delay the werewolf swung around and grabbed her by both shoulders, his teal eyes were wider than she had ever seen them before, hair hung over his face, he looked at her like a madman.



“Do you know what tomorrow is?” The witch shook her head frightened that his grip had become tighter around her arms. “It is the full moon Hermione. You must go – you cannot stay here.” He searched her face for any sign of conformity but he could find none.



“I’m not leaving,” she plucked up the courage to say, his grip got tighter at her reply. “You’re hurting me!” But he seemed not to hear. He only shook her and repeated his plea.



“Hermione you must go until it is safe, the full moon – does things to me.” The witch gave him an exasperated look.



“I know.”



“You do not understand, my...my werewolf side doesn’t know you. It would be dangerous to stay here while the full moon is out. Not yet, not now. You have to go...stay with your friend! Yes, the one you sent the letter to.”



“No I won’t. I’m not leaving you again.” They both went silent as their eyes met. After a few seconds the werewolf growled and his grip ever tightened.



“Listen to me, go!” He growled fiercely. The witch bared her teeth and growled, trying to push back his forearms.



“No you listen to me. I am not leaving.” The werewolf let go. He stared at the witch momentarily before tugging her into an embrace.



“I hate you for being so stubborn,” he growled in her ear. She smiled, placing her head in the crook of his neck.



“I don’t hate you at all.” The werewolf smiled, it was nice to know after so much turmoil how she really felt. He was sure at one point she had hated him more than she hated anyone. He sighed, lowering his tones.



“I don’t hate you at all either.” Hermione smiled, burying her head into him.



“I know.”



****





A/N: More to come shortly. Sorry this chapter is so short and nothing actually happens in it :/ ~ Moony

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