Sacrifice

Hi everyone :)

Many thanks to those who took the time to review last chapter :) They keep the writing juices flowing and remind me that I need to tear myself away from Super Smash Brother Brawl for at least a little while in order to keep writing this for everyone :D
Hmm, I nothing more to say for now. Let's get on with the chapter then, shall we?

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His nose close to the ground, Fenrir moved into a clearing, his canine figure lit by the glow of the final full moon of the summer in the clear sky. Straight ahead of him was exactly what he had expected to see; a tent. A tent meant people and, in Fenrir's mind, people meant entertainment. So, it was with the intent of entertaining himself that the werewolf moved closer to the material-made shelter and upon reaching it, nudged away the flap that covered the entrance.

Inside lay three people: a man; a woman; and a child. All were clearly asleep, tucked up tight in their sleeping bags. Something else Fenrir realised was the interior was considerably larger than its outward appearance suggested. That led to only one sensible conclusion; at least one person in the tent had used magic. That knowledge only made the werewolf all the more eager to bite something and so he prowled forward, intent on having his fun. He'd start with the kid and that would hopefully wake the parents and then he could have a bit of a scuffle with them...

Fenrir froze as he came to stand over the sleeping child and the top of the head became visible to him. The hair, it was long and dark and the way it was splayed over the face, it could so easily have been Harry. Of course it obviously wasn't Harry because the Alpha had left him to search for his food on his own. But the fact that the child reminded him of his pack mate...Fenrir suddenly lost his desire to hurt the kid.

He growled irritably and backed up slightly. Ugh, he was getting soft. As if one cue, simply to alleviate his anger, the father of the family gave a snorted snore and rolled over in his sleep. If a werewolf could grin, a most frightening one would have crossed Fenrir's face then. Perhaps he had lost his taste for children with dark hair but there was nothing wrong with dark haired adults.

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Harry felt an undeniable swell of emotion as his and Isaac's old cave came into view. It was the first time he had seen his old home in months and it brought back so many memories. Fenrir had decided they'd return to it before the cold weather hit so they would always have shelter. Harry wasn't sure why that was suddenly important when the snow hadn't even stopped the last time they had left. That might've been something to do with it all being unplanned last time though. This time, Fenrir had already had plenty of time to think through the options and make a suitable decision.

Slowly entering the cave, Harry looked around himself almost sadly as he moved over to one side of it and placed his hand upon the rough rock. "Strange how this place seems smaller than the last time I was here."

"Stop being so sentimental," Fenrir scolded, his voice as gruff as usual. "You haven't grown that much in the last nine months."

Harry didn't say anything to that, in fact he acted as though he hadn't even heard it. Instead, he continued to wander further into the cave, towards the back where everything he left behind probably remained and where Isaac was buried. He felt rather than saw the spot of his Sire's burial as the soil was disrupted there. The temptation to speak a greeting to the dead werewolf was present but Harry resisted knowing that Fenrir wouldn't approve and would probably voice as such. So, the boy continued on further without real pause.

Fenrir watched Harry disappear into the darkness of the cave with a neutral expression as he cracked his neck idly. He hadn't originally planned on returning to this place when he had left with the boy at the start of the year, but the more he had thought about it, the more he had come to think that returning was for the best. Despite being away from the place for the better part of the year, Harry knew the area well and so would find gathering food for the winter easier. Plus, there was the fact that the cave provided a constant shelter from the elements, something that couldn't be guaranteed if they had stayed where they had previously been. It was admittedly a little too close to a Muggle farmer's land for Fenrir to feel completely comfortable but that wasn't really something he had to worry about in relation to Harry, and he, himself, was quite able to look after things.

"Ah, here they are," Harry's happy voice suddenly came.

The Alpha turned his attention onto the reappearing boy who was grinning widely as he came striding back into the light. In his hands, Harry held a very rusty pair of scissors and a small mirror that was clearly a piece broken off of a bigger mirror.

"Now I can cut my hair back again." He declared as he marched right up to Fenrir. "Hold, please." He requested as he held out the piece of mirror.

Fenrir squelched the slight flare of irritation he felt at what sounded suspiciously like an order and complied, taking hold of the small piece of glass (which was completely dwarfed in his massive hand) and held it up. Harry's smile never faded or faltered as he positioned himself accordingly and began to work on his hair. He started with the front first, using his fingers to comb it forward, in front of his face.

"Where did the scissors come from?" The Alpha grunted.

"Isaac nicked them from some near by campers ages ago. They might look a bit rusted and useless but they work well enough for cutting hair." There Harry paused and started to snip the hair just at his eye level. "There, I've got my fringe back now." He said happily as he carelessly dropped the strands of hair he had cut away. "There's a cut-throat razor back there if you want me to give you a shave." The boy offered as he got to work on the rest of his hair.

"No." Fenrir said bluntly.

"Are you sure? I used to do it all the time for Isaac so I won't accidentally slice your neck open or anything."

"Sharpened rocks work just as well."

"Oh, so that's what you were doing with those rocks. They don't work very well though."

"They work well enough."

"And I can't imagine they give a very comfortable shave."

"My skin's hardened enough for it to not be an issue."

"How very caveman of you."

Fenrir gave a low, warning rumble of a growl. "Watch your tongue, Pup."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way, I was just stating a fact." Harry assured apologetically as he gave his hair one last snip before lowering the scissors. "That's me done," he announced, running his fingers through his hair which was now a few inches shorter and stopped just below his ears; the boy had made a surprisingly neat job of it. "If you don't want me to give you a shave, will you at least let me cut your hair?"

"Why?" The man asked suspiciously.

The boy shrugged innocently. "Just to make it more manageable, maybe clear it away from your eyes a bit."

Fenrir thought about it very carefully in the five second silence that followed. One might not think something could be considered in great detail in such a short space of time but the werewolf's thoughts were deep and thorough. On the one hand, getting the hair out of his eyes sounded like a good idea. On the other hand, having his hair cut sounded like an all too human activity. He was a werewolf and damn proud of it, hence living the wild life he did. Shaving with a rock was one thing, having his hair cut with actual scissors was another. Eventually, however, the promise of getting the hair out of his eyes won.

"Fine." He grunted reluctantly.

Harry seemed far too pleased with the agreement. He beamed a smile and took the mirror from his Alpha's hands, placing it on the floor, before stepping around to stand behind the man. "Could you sit down, please? I can't reach with you standing."

A disgruntled mutter was his verbal reply but Fenrir did as asked nonetheless, sitting down heavily. His back was curved in a slouch and he had one leg bent and propped up, which allowed him to rest a forearm on the knee, while the other rested on the ground, bent comfortably. He glared ahead of himself sternly even as he felt small fingers start to comb through the strands of hair at the back of his head.

"Do you want me to just give you a trim?" Harry asked, still combing with his fingers.

"Just clear it from my eyes." Fenrir ordered.

The boy voiced a confirmation before he moved around to stand in front of Fenrir. He seemingly hesitated for a moment in front of the man before speaking again. "Erm, it might be easier for me if I sat on your lap. Do you mind?"

Fenrir felt like screaming. All this fuss! Why the Hell had he agreed to the stupid idea in the first place? Somehow, he maintained his temper and simply grunted out another reluctant, "fine". No sooner had those words left his mouth than Harry had sat himself very close to him, settling in the space between Fenrir's legs. It wasn't exactly sitting on his lap but if his legs had been together then it would've been. One thing it was, was very close. Fenrir didn't think the pup had ever been so close to his face before. Behind him, yes, as during the winter he had provided piggy-backs, and during the full moon didn't count as the human in Fenrir wasn't fully in control and his memory was never complete the next morning. Up until that moment, whenever the two had been close, it had been with the Alpha in front with Harry on his back.

There was something strangely intimate and therefore uncomfortable with being so close to another's face. Harry didn't seem the least bit bothered as he concentrated on the hair over the Alpha's forehead. Fenrir, on the other hand, was only too aware of the boy's proximity. His gaze naturally rested on the pale skin and the shape of the collar bone around the collar of the black robe which he was finding strangely tempting; he could feel the small exhales of warm breath against his face, the scent of which was inescapable and seemed to surround him; and just the general close proximity to Harry seemed to be stirring all sorts of unwelcome feelings and urges in Fenrir. He had the sudden urge to touch the boy, to settle his hands either side of the slim hips, to nuzzle the flat stomach, to tickle, to play, to, dare he even think it, cuddle.

They weren't sexual urges (thank the Goddess for that!), but they were still urges that Fenrir was unfamiliar with. It was obviously a pack thing and he understood why he was feeling them, he just couldn't believe that he was, indeed, feeling them and that the desire to act upon them was so strong in him. He was nothing if not a strong-willed, stubborn male though and so he resisted. His thoughts remained on it though and he wondered how Harry and Isaac used to be together. Had they been physically close when the werewolf was in his human form? Had they held each other simply to show affection rather than to share body heat? If so, did Harry miss having such a relationship? Why did Fenrir care so much if the boy did?

With a mental grunt, Fenrir forced himself to stop thinking altogether. So, he cut off his thoughts and simply sat there, completely still and silent for the boy who stood so close to his face and continued to trim his hair.

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Through the darkness, he saw it. An unknown werewolf, moving through the late autumn night, an intruder on their territory. It was small, obviously a submissive, and it was alone. Perhaps a lone wolf? There was no sight or sound of any other werewolves near by, and it was getting awfully close...

The small werewolf sniffed along the ground, getting closer and closer to the mouth of the cave. It had to have smelt the smoke from the fire and yet it was still moving closer. Obviously not a very smart werewolf, or perhaps recently turned so it hadn't yet learnt to fear even the traces of fire. Either way, if it came any closer, even with his Alpha absent, action would have to be taken. Any closer...Any...Closer...

A thin branch with a head of thinner stems and dried leaves became an effective weapon when set on fire. The unknown werewolf recoiled with a frightened whimper as the burning branch came dangerously close to its muzzle. From out of the darkness, the cave's inhabitant emerged and took up a defensive stance.

"Back off, dog breath, this is our cave." Harry glared, his feet set apart in a sturdy stance and his arms steady as he held the burning branch out in front of himself.

A growl came then and not from the werewolf Harry had just swiped at. A feeling of dread started to turn his blood to ice as he carefully glanced around himself. Through his fuzzy vision, he saw not one or two, but three pairs of glowing yellow eyes appear from the darkness to his left. A quick glance to the right showed him four more eyes and when he finally looked ahead of himself again, he saw what was no doubt the Alpha of the pack whose submissive he had just tried to practically set on fire.

Emerald green eyes met with golden yellow and at that moment Harry knew that he was about to be chased, a lot. "Crap." He murmured out loud.

At the same time as the enemy Alpha went to pounce, Harry threw the flaming branch at it, managing to successfully slow it down, before he bolted to the left. True, it was towards three werewolves but it was a better choice than going right or straight ahead. Through his skill (or perhaps sheer dumb luck) the pre-teen managed to dodge the three werewolves and make it through to the rest of the forest behind.

The chase was officially on.

Harry knew he was lucky. If this chase was taking place in an open space or if he too was a transformed werewolf, there would be no way that he would have got as far as he was at that point let alone have the possibility of escape. It was because he was small that he was able to get around the close-knit trees so easily and it was because the werewolves chasing him were big that they were slowed by the obstacles. However, just because it slowed them down, didn't mean that Harry was guaranteed escape. He was under no illusion that he was merely keeping his ground rather than gaining any and he would no doubt tire before the pack of werewolves. Escaping on his own just wasn't going to happen.

The need to glance over his shoulder to see how close his pursuers were was almost desperate but Harry remembered that Fenrir had once told him that looking over your shoulder while running slows you down. So the boy ignored the urge and instead concentrated on howling. That too slowed him down as he took up breath and he needed his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound, but it was a necessity. If he wanted Fenrir to find him and save him then he needed to call for him and since the Alpha had a better chance of understanding and responded to howls and other non-verbal sounds during the nights of the full moon, howling was the way to go. Harry hoped he sounded desperate enough, he needed Fenrir with him as soon as possible.

When Harry's saviour arrived, it arrived quickly. He was half way through a howl when the familiar, massive form of Fenrir came charging out of the bushes near by and didn't even hesitate in getting into a defensive stance in front of the eleven year old. Harry skidded to a halt immediately, his breathing coming out in heavy and harsh pants. He took a second to compose himself before he dashed over to the nearest climbable tree and started to shimmy up it. As the enemy Alpha came charging into the area, Harry almost lost his grip on the trunk and fell but managed to tense his hold just in time to save himself. He didn't dare pause any longer even if the sound of fighting werewolves told him that he was no longer the focus of the enemy's attention. It was only when he was safely perched on a branch that he allowed himself to stop and watch what was going on below him.

A swell of pride made Harry want to puff out his chest at the sight of his Alpha winning not only in strength but in size. Now that he was no longer running for his life, the boy could see that Fenrir was much bigger than the enemy Alpha. He knew that bigger was not necessarily an advantage but Fenrir was clearly winning anyway. Harry spared a second to glance around and noticed that the other werewolves of the enemy pack were staying close by but obviously weren't interfering which the boy thought curious. Not that he was complaining though; it was doubtful Fenrir would've been able to take them all on at once.

The end came abruptly and unexpectedly, mostly because the enemy Alpha decided it would rather escape with its life and so made a hasty retreat. The majority of the werewolves followed after it but a few remained. If Harry had to liken it to something, he would've described it as weak children in a play-ground who had just watched the boss of their gang get his arse kicked. Although the boy had never seen it before, he knew what the strange werewolves wanted. They wanted to be part of Fenrir's pack.

Harry, admittedly, felt a slight flutter of anxiety as he watched the three werewolves slowly approach Fenrir. He remembered only too well the reception he and Isaac had received when his Sire had attempted to introduce him to the pack. Everyone had been able to tell immediately that Harry wasn't a full werewolf and they had made their distaste quite clear. True, Fenrir was the Alpha and so if he wanted Harry to stay then Harry would stay, but the boy was worried about the possibility of his and Fenrir's tiny pack expanding.

Only two seconds later, it turned out the worry was for nothing. As soon as the werewolves got within a certain distance to Fenrir, the Alpha snapped viciously at the air, giving a clear warning that the strangers were not wanted. They didn't give up immediately but when one got dangerously close to getting its front leg snapped off by the vicious teeth, they saw sense. All three turned and hurried off and left Fenrir and Harry alone again.

Harry quickly started to climb down the tree, doing so with a swift grace like a monkey. The moment his feet touched the ground, they were carrying him over to Fenrir who was sitting down and licking at his right paw. At first, Harry was concerned that the Alpha had been injured but when he got close enough, he saw the werewolf was actually licking his opponent’s blood from his claws. The boy felt undeniably queasy at the sight and he looked away quickly.

Not too long later and a strong bump against his side had Harry looking back Fenrir who had finished cleaning himself and was obviously now intent on looking his pack mate over. Harry dutifully allowed the werewolf to sniff him in various spots in search of blood and/or injury. When the sniffing had stopped, the boy knew he was allowed to move again and immediately fell to his knees and cuddled up against the creature. A cold nose nuzzled his hair and Harry nuzzled his cheek against the warm chest of fur he was leaning against.

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Harry's teeth chattered as he stared glumly at the flickering flames of the fire in front of him. He sat huddled up in the cave, wrapped completely in his patchwork-fur blanket with only his face showing. Although there was no snow on the ground, it was bitterly cold and Harry was having a hard time keeping warm on his own. Fenrir was off hunting his first meal of the day which left the boy alone to shiver. It was surprising just how much of a warming effect Fenrir's body heat had on Harry and so the presence was always missed when he was gone. The man would probably return soon though as hunting in that area never took long thanks to the near by farm.

Although Harry would never admit it out loud, he was scared of that farm and the people inside it. After all, they had been the people who had shot Isaac and made him suffer such a painful, lingering death. He was scared for Fenrir every time the man went out to hunt because he knew that eight times out of ten, the werewolf would go for the cattle at the farm. It was winter and no one wanted to be outside any longer than they really had to and it was easier to pick off a fenced in cow than a deer in the freedom of the wild. Fenrir was younger and healthier than Isaac had been, that was true, but the farmer used silver bullets (perhaps he knew it was werewolves poaching his live stock or was, instead, just very superstitious) and no matter how strong and healthy a werewolf was, a silver bullet could be fatal even if it hit a minor body part like an arm or a leg. Isaac had been shot in the leg after all and had still died from the wound.

The thought of what would happen to him if Fenrir were to die always terrified Harry. He wasn't sure he would be able to survive in the wild on his own and he didn't know how to go back to "civilisation". The same fear had been present in him upon his Sire's death but then Fenrir had come along...Would lightning strike twice and, if Fenrir was dying, one of the man's Children would come? Because Fenrir definitely had Children, Harry knew very well that his Alpha enjoyed turning people just for the Hell of it.

That thought turned his attention away from death and instead focussed it on the man who cared for him. Fenrir Greyback. Harry knew he was what was generally considered a "bad" man. Fenrir was rude, he was harsh, he swore a lot, he liked violence and blood just a little too much to be considered healthy, and was too nonchalant about killing and turning others into werewolves against their will. The worst part for Harry, though, was the fact that he couldn't quite bring himself to really care and he knew that was terrible of him. Fenrir wouldn't have been Fenrir without the cursing and the violence and the hundreds of imperfections and Harry was oh so fond of the man. And he thought, to himself, that Fenrir was fond of him too. The Alpha was never too rough with him, seemed genuinely concerned about his well-being at times, and, of course, actually tolerated his existence. Harry knew that Fenrir Greyback had absolutely nothing against being alone and that if he didn't want Harry around then Harry wouldn't have been around. The mere fact Harry was still with the man after a full year was evidence enough that the werewolf at least cared about him to an extent.

A rumble of thunder sounded from far away then. Harry turned his head just enough to peer outside from the corner of his eyes and saw the odd spit or two of rain was starting to fall. He absently hoped, as he turned back to look at the fire, that Fenrir returned before the rain picked up or else the Alpha would be in a bad mood for the entire night. Plus he'd be wet which meant he'd get Harry wet and Harry absolutely despised being wet and cold at the same time. When the weather was warm, getting wet was actually something the boy enjoyed to the extent that he would stand outside during spring and summer showers. But when cold was added to the mix, things stopped being so enjoyable.

As another rumble of thunder came just after a flash of lightning, Fenrir came striding out from the trees, heading to the cave. No greeting was shared as the Alpha entered and shook his head to remove the water droplets clinging to his hair. Not even when the man sat himself behind Harry and pulled the shivering boy closer to him, arms remaining around him, did either of them speak. It was only as Harry shifted closer to Fenrir and leaned back against the strong chest, revelling in the instant heat, did the werewolf break the quiet.

"You managed to find dry wood then?"

"Hmm? Yeah, a little bit was hidden under some stuff at the very back of the cave. There was no kindling though so it took a while to get started."

"I'm surprised you got it started at all then." Fenrir grunted, a sneaking suspicion starting to grow in him.

"Oh, you know me, I can start a fire from almost nothing; it's a gift." Harry said playfully, his mood cheering as he started to warm up.

"Takes more than just "a gift" to get a fire going without kindling and mostly damp wood."

Harry paused at that. He turned and tilted his head back so he could look up at the face of his Alpha. "Is something the matter?" He asked curiously.

Fenrir didn't answer for lingering moments but Harry kept looking up at him, determined to stare the man into responding. Eventually, the werewolf gave a small, growly huff and looked over to the side. "Nothing that can be helped so there's no use worrying over it."

Although he remained curious, Harry didn't press Fenrir with any more questions. After a year together, the boy knew how to recognise the Alpha's moods and he could tell that further prompting and questioning would not be tolerated. So, Harry let the subject drop and turned back to look at the fire. A quick glance at the cave entrance showed him that the rain was steadily starting to get heavier. He shivered slightly and the thick arms around him tightened.

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The winter once again ended eventually and spring blossomed. It was just before the forth full moon of the year that Harry and Fenrir left the cave once again and returned to where they had spent the previous summer, near the lake where Harry had been taught to swim. They had arrived the morning before the forth full moon and Harry had immediately scuttled up a tree while Fenrir had made himself scarce. That had been three days ago and the sun was just rising on the final night.

Harry looked down below from where he was straddling a thick branch of a massive tree. Although the sky was turning rapidly blue, he knew better than to get down before Fenrir came back to get him. Luckily, it never took the Alpha long to appear and that time was no different. Unfortunately, this time, the man was obviously injured and exhausted. The boy watched from the tree in horror as Fenrir came staggering into his view, falling to his knees and elbows and then staying in that position, his shoulders heaving as his ragged breathing audible even from where Harry was sitting.

"Fenrir!" He gasped in horror as he neatly swung down from the tree, landing on his feet only a second before he had broken into a run to reach his Alpha's side all the faster. "What happened?"

"Fucking slut," the Alpha's panted harshly as he fisted the dirt beneath his fingers in anger. "Was displaying but already had a fucking mate."

That answer may as well have been spoken in French for all the understanding Harry had of it. He didn't concentrate on that fact though and instead focussed on looking over the injuries on the man. Closer inspection proved that there weren't actually that many open wounds, there was just a lot of blood, most of it perhaps not even Fenrir's. Or, maybe the werewolf had been injured but had recovered mostly. Isaac had been a quick healer in the first year or two that Harry had known him but it always took a lot out of him; that could've been way Fenrir was so obviously exhausted.

Deciding that the blood was both a distracting and distressing sight, Harry thought that to clean it off would be the first thing he would do. There were some spare animal furs which he had been planning to use to make a second blanket but he thought he could use one or two as flannels. Water would have been ideal to use but they were too far from the lake and there would be no way Harry was strong enough to drag Fenrir there so his saliva would have to do, he just hoped he didn't get too dry.

After he had brought one of the patches of fur to his mouth and wetted it with his saliva, he started to clean what looked like a particularly nasty bite on the upper part of Fenrir's right arm. The blood was mostly dried and so had to be wiped at several times before it disappeared completely and Harry found himself becoming quite queasy in the process. The smell of blood had never agreed with him but he fought through and struggled on for the sake of his Alpha and it made him feel as though he was doing something which in turn made him feel slightly better.

Fenrir said nothing and remained still for the first few minutes of Harry cleaning him up but eventually regained enough strength to move. With a groan of effort, he moved into a sit and revealed that his chest was also extremely bloody and rather scratched up. Harry paused his cleaning while the man moved but as soon as Fenrir was still again, the boy returned to his task, abandoning the cleaner arm in favour of starting on the chest. He crawled around to kneel in front of the Alpha and took a second to re-moisten the patch of fur (making sure the bit he put in his mouth was clean so he didn't get the taste of blood) before he started to carefully wipe away the blood, being much more gentle than previously as the cuts were deeper and no doubt more tender.

"If this is what you look like, I'd hate to see the other bloke." Harry said with a light grin and a playful look up at Fenrir's face.

The werewolf chuckled deeply at that as he leaned back on his arms; Harry dutifully shifted with him. "And I doubt his bitch is cleaning him up either. Heh, you'll make someone a nice little wife some day." Fenrir smirked in a lazy, teasing manner.

Instead of getting the indignant huff he had expected in response, he got a curious look from Harry and an innocently asked: "But aren't I your wife already?"

Fenrir's mind boggled slightly at that. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, to be honest, I always assumed a wife had to be female but since you said I'd be someone's wife, I just assumed I'm already yours." Harry explained as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I remember that my Aunt Petunia was my Uncle Vernon's wife and, as I said, I just assumed from that, that a wife is a woman. I do a lot of the sorts of things she did and you do a lot of the sorts of things Uncle Vernon did, they slept in the same bed and we sleep together as well..."

Fenrir couldn't quite believe his ears as he listened to Harry explain his reasoning. He had meant the comment to be taken as a teasing insult, instead it had been taken seriously and all because the boy didn't know exactly what a wife was which wasn't really all that surprising. Harry hadn't had any contact with "civilised" society since he was six; even if he had known exactly what a wife had been before then it wasn't completely unrealistic to think that he had since forgotten. The desire to laugh bubbled in Fenrir's chest but he suppressed it, seeing no need to confuse the boy any more.

"So, I'm not your wife then?" Harry asked curiously.

"No, you're not my wife," the Alpha chuckled lightly.

"Oh." The boy murmured, seemingly strangely disappointed. That lasted for only a second though before a confused frown creased his forehead. "If I'm not your wife then, what am I?"

His mood having been cheered greatly by the amusing conversation, Fenrir smirked and reached out to give Harry's hair a firm ruffle. "You're still a pup; wait a few more years and you'll find out what you are."

That answer didn't really seem to satisfy the boy but he said nothing more. He gave one more light frown before going back to his self-appointed job of cleaning the blood off of his Alpha. Still smirking in amusement, Fenrir sat back and allowed the kid to get on with it.

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The sight of the sleeping child was sweet enough to touch even the hardest of hearts. Harry was curled up on his side, completely wrapped in his fur blanket with only his eyes, forehead and hair poking out from the top. The rise and fall of his chest as he breathed was the only movement he made and his sleep was clearly peaceful. It was a picture which only served to worry Fenrir even more than he had already been.

Being the most well known werewolf in the country meant that every single British werewolf knew him personally, and that included ones that lived within civilised society. Fenrir usually made a point of not associating with such types but there was one such werewolf who he had semi-regular contact with though only so he could be kept up to date on the happenings in the Wizarding world. For many years, his contact had had nothing of significance to report. That had suddenly changed. Having just returned from a meeting with his contact, the Alpha was now haunted by the knowledge that Voldemort was apparently active again.

The details weren't clear but the Dark Lord, or someone supporting the Dark Lord, had apparently tried (and failed) to steal the Philosopher's Stone. If such a thing had happened a few years ago, Fenrir would have been interested but nothing more. Now, all things considered, the knowledge unnerved him greatly because of Harry. Voldemort had tried to kill the boy once, who was to say he wouldn't try again? In fact, who was to say the Dark Lord wouldn't double his efforts to kill the boy as an attempt at revenge?

Fenrir was confident/arrogant in his fighting ability but even he had to wonder whether he'd be able to hold his own against more than a handful of Death Eaters. They would be armed with wands and magic after all and no amount of physical strength could throw off a spell. He wasn't sure whether he would be able to properly protect Harry should more than a few Death Eaters (or even Voldemort himself) come to do him harm. And there was no question that Fenrir would protect Harry. The pack instinct was strong enough by itself, but add to that the fact that the Alpha had come to care about the child as a person as well, there was no way he would allow any harm to come to the boy.

As Fenrir sat down heavily beside the sleeping Harry, he swore to himself that he would protect the boy from anything and at all costs. As long as Harry Potter was with him, Voldemort wouldn't be able to get the boy without one Hell of a bloody fight.

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End of Chapter 4.
I hope everyone enjoyed that :) In a way, this chapter is the end of Harry's childhood as almost a year will pass in between this chapter and the next. Next chapter, Harry starts to grow up and leave his childhood behind (despite the fact he'll only be 13 XD).

REVIEW REPLIES!

EroKitsuned
*hopes you haven't been staring at the screen for a whole two weeks* I'm glad you're enjoying everything and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well :)

Zuka
Thank ya much, I'm glad you're enjoying everything :)

Tina109
I thought it might have but I wanted to just make certain that your question was answered XD

Articwolf8556
There will be hints of accidental magic. Nothing extremely obvious though so you really have to keep your eyes peeled.

Werewolf Mistress
So many questions! You'll just have to be patient for the answers :)

darkpyroangel06
Double review! That's what we like. And they're booth quite long ones :) I'm glad to hear you're liking everything and I hope that continues :)

Lucie
Yes, Harry will be going to Hogwarts, but that's all I'm saying for the moment XD As for the next update, as you've no doubt guessed already, it's every other Saturday as I'm not even close to finishing it.

celestialuna
Thank you, I hope this one was good too :)

Ali-chan
I'm glad you love it and thank you for the review.

SandRene
I don't have a mailing list but this story gets updated every other Saturday.

amysds
This fic is also being posted on FanFiction.net under the same pen-name. That's the only other place currently.

Right, that's me written out for another fortnight. Hope to see you all again in the next chapter :)

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Dream