Dying To Love You

Fenrir followed Harry to a quiet street then to a house that looked like all the rest. He watched Harry sneak inside and decided to wait and watch. Harry slipped into the house as quietly as he could, but as soon as he had the door shut he knew that it hadn’t been as quiet as he’d hoped. “Where have you been boy? You smell of cigarettes and stale beer. Sneaking out to go pubbing were you? Well, we’ll just have to make sure that you learn your lesson about doing anything without our permission!” Vernon pulled his belt from the loops of his elephant sized pants and advanced on a fear frozen Harry. The first blow landed across his face cutting it open and causing Harry to fall back crying out and grabbing his injured face.
More blows landed all over Harry’s body cutting through his clothes and the skin very easily. After several minutes of being beaten, Harry passed out from the pain, the last thing he heard before he fell into darkness was his uncle’s sadistic laughs and the crashing of the front door. ‘Finally, someone will stop the pain.’



Sitting in front of the drab house on the even more drab street, Fenrir was enjoying a cigarette and waiting for something to happen. He had been feeling uneasy about the whole situation since Harry spilled the beans about his home life back at the bar. Out of nowhere the scent of fresh blood hit his nose and a cry of pain could be heard from the house that his pup had entered about twenty minutes before. Fenrir tossed his cigarette and raced towards the house intent on saving his pup. Reaching the door with no problems from the so called ‘wards of love’ that were supposed to be in place he burst through the door in time to see a very fat man swinging a belt at a bundle of blood and rags on the floor.
Without so much as a word Fenrir lunged at the unsuspecting human and snapped the bastard’s neck before he even knew what was happening. He knew that he couldn’t leave Harry there to face the consequences of what he had done so he gathered everything that had only Harry’s scent on it and then gathered the boy himself and apperated to the only place he knew that Harry would be safe and taken care of. Voldemort’s house in Wiltshire.
Fenrir wasted no time making his way through the house to his own rooms. It was the devils own luck that he happened to be passing the dark lord in the hallway and the bundle he carried was identified. “Greyback, what are you doing with that boy and why is he in my house?” Voldemort asked as he pulled his wand from his robes, readying to let loose the most nasty curses he could think of.
“My lord, please that is not needed. He is unconscious and not likely to wake any time soon. I met with him as you instructed and then followed him home where I later killed his uncle because he was beating the child with a belt, even after he was passed out. When I met him at the bar I didn’t recognize him from the description I had been given because he is so emaciated and malnourished that I was hitting on him for several minutes before I asked for his help to find himself. I gave him the folder and he left in a hurry so I followed him because I could smell the old and new blood on him. I couldn’t leave him there. Please, my lord, let me take care of him and explain what is in the folder.?”
Voldemort was shocked that the savior of the wizarding world would be sent to a place where he would be so abused. ‘But then again,’ he thought to himself, ‘Dumbles did send me back to the orphanage time and again.’ “Lets take him back to your rooms and we can better assess the boy’s injuries. We can call Severus when we get there.”
They arrived at Fenrir’s rooms quickly and while Fenrir placed the unconscious boy on his bed, the dark lord fire-called his potions master. Quickly explaining the situation without using the boys name, Severus immediately stepped through after grabbing his emergency supply of healing potions. Quickly going over to the bed where he assumed his patient was resting and had to do a doubletake when Fenrir moved aside and revealed the person he was supposed to be healing. “My Lord, this is Potter? How did he come to be in this state? I need all of the details if I am to heal him properly.”
Voldemort motioned to Fenrir to relate the tale to Severus, the potions master was pale and slightly nauseated by the end. Getting to work on Harry, moving on autopilot, Severus began to reevaluate everything that he knew and ever thought about the boy on the bed in front of him. He had immediately hated the boy because he was the spawn of James Potter and never took in the fact that he was half Lily as well. Lily Evens, the woman that he had loved and would love until the day that he died. Never had he thought to look in on the boy while he was at his relatives house, even after he had seen the memories of some of the abuse during the failed occlumency lessons in Harry’s fifth year. Sure he had informed Albus of what he had seen and the headmaster had assured him that Harry was perfectly fine where he was and that his relatives would never harm the boy.
In fact, it had been the headmaster who had told him that Potter was treated like a king and waited on hand and foot at the muggles home. The old man had lied to him and had made sure to fuel the animosity that he felt toward the elder Potter in order to fuel the hate that he felt toward the boy. He worked for several hours in silence with the dark lord and the werewolf staying out of his way as much as possible but never moving far from the bed housing the unconscious boy. The last test that Severus ran on the boy made the normally pale man turn even more pale when he saw the results.


Please R&R!