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Sacrifice

By: WingsofaDream
folder Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Fenrir
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 39
Views: 81,217
Reviews: 351
Recommended: 1
Currently Reading: 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Chapter 6

Hi everyone :)

I hope the two week cliff-hanger hasn't been too much of a hardship for you all XD Thank you to all those who reviewed and encouraged me to keep going, you all make the effort of writing fanfiction all the sweeter :)

Enough from me, on with the chapter.

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The glow of the full moon was still bright and Harry sat right in a pool of its light. He was in a bath tub full of warm and fragrant water with lots of bubbles. The light was coming in through the window just above and to his right. He assumed he was supposed to be washing himself but he just sat there, legs hugged to his chest, head tilted back enough to let him stare at the moon, eyes heavy from tears already shed and stinging with the prickles of those yet to fall.

The farmer had, indeed, taken him home and the man's wife had immediately started to "take care" of him. She had fussed, she had cooed, she had coddled, she had run the bath, she had undressed him, and then she had watched him get into the bath before she had left, reassuring him that she was just going to wash his bloodied robe. Harry had remained silent and passive the entire way through. He didn't fight it but neither did he make things easier, he simply accepted all that was done to him.

He didn't know what to do and he was more scared than he could remember ever being before. The heated, soapy water was gradually cleaning off Fenrir's scent, it was making him cleaner than he ever had been before. It was washing away the past seven years, it was washing away Isaac and Fenrir and everything...

Oh, he was so scared. What was going to happen to him? Would he ever see Fenrir again? What if he was sent back to the Dursleys? He wouldn't be able to handle that, he knew he wouldn't. He'd sooner take his own life than go back to them...

That thought startled Harry enough to have him tilt his head down to look at the foamy water in front of him. Take his own life...Why did that not seem like such a bad idea suddenly? He had nothing left to live for, not with Fenrir gone, and nothingness seemed so much more favourable than life with the Dursleys. Perhaps, one day, it would come to that, he would realise it really wasn't worth the pain of being with his relatives and he would be brave enough to lay back in a bath and allow himself to drown. For that moment, however, he had a hope, a hope that Fenrir would come and get him soon.

It seemed like such a slim hope though. Harry bowed his head as low as it could go, until it rested on the tops of his knees, before he finally gave in to the desire to cry.

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Werewolves were an intimidating sight at the best of times, but the sight of a furious one brutally snapping at the metal bear trap clamped shut around one of its back legs was enough to freeze a person in fear. Fenrir snarled and thrashed and growled and barked and roared as he bit at the metal and yanked his trapped leg in, what had to be, an extremely painful manner. The sky was a navy blue which was rapidly turning lighter but obviously not fast enough for the Alpha who never ceased his angry movements. Even when the sunlight touched him and the night officially ended, during his transformation back into a human, Fenrir never stopped trying to free himself from the cursed trap.

Admittedly, Fenrir never had much of a memory of what happened to him during his nights as a monster rather than a man. The things he did usually remember, however, were things which could be described as significant. That blasted farmer hunting him down with his gun, that was significant. The immediate fear he had felt for Harry's safety rather than his own, that was significant. Retrieving Harry only to get his leg caught in the blasted bear trap, that was significant. And Harry speaking three small words before he ran off with a foolhardy intent on protecting the Alpha, that was more than significant.

Fenrir remembered all of it (though the memories were fuzzy rather than crystal clear) and countless emotions began to swell in his chest. Anger, frustration, fear, desperation, worry. And perhaps it was no surprise that every single one of those emotions were felt for Harry. That stupid, reckless, willful pup who had somehow managed to burrow his way into the Alpha's heart and set up a nice little nest there; Fenrir would be damned if he let the boy go without one Hell of a fight.

The very second Fenrir had proper control of his human limbs once again, he had grabbed the two jaws of the bear trap and had forced them open, freeing his damaged leg. He barely felt the pain as the piercing teeth left his seriously cut-up flesh (it would leave a very nasty scar) and the scent of his own blood, as over-powering as it should have been, almost seemed to disappear under the scent of another's blood. Harry's blood. Why could he smell Harry's blood? Although it was an immediate concern, it was also rather lucky. Blood was easier to track than simple body scent so it would therefore be easier to determine exactly which direction Harry had gone/been taken.

A low growl rumbled deep in the werewolf's throat as he got to his feet and smelt the air one last time, just to check he had the right idea. When he had confirmed which direction the scent of Harry's blood was coming from, he took off in a run, apparently completely immune to the pain in his injured leg.

No matter what happened, someone would die that day. If Harry was alive, then only the farmer would die. If Fenrir found his pup dead though, the entire world would pay.

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Harry remembered porridge. Aunt Petunia had eaten it at breakfast some mornings. He had always thought it had smelt delicious, especially when it had honey poured all over it, and had always wanted to try it. Finally, he had the oppotunity, it was just a shame he had no appetite to enjoy it.

The teenager sat at the kitchen table in the farmer's house, a bowl of steaming porridge, sweetened with a copious amount of sugar, sitting in front of him. Around him, the farmer's wife was pottering around, being busy with various house-wife duties. The farmer himself was somewhere else in the house. Where exactly? Harry neither knew nor cared. As long as the man wasn't out hunting Fenrir then he could do as he liked.

"Eat up, love," the farmer's wife advised sympathetically. "You must be starving and you're all skin and bones."

Harry glanced to the woman out of the corner of his eyes. Agatha, that's what she had told him her name was. She was a lovely woman, very caring, very motherly, and if Harry really had been a stray soul who had become separated from his parents and lost in the woods, he would've thanked his lucky star to have found someone as pleasant as she. As it was, worry and fear clouded his attention too much for him to really appeciate all she was doing for him. That and the fact he smelt of rose bubble bath and the laundry soap that had been used to wash his robe. Such artificial scents. Where was the earth? Where was the moisture? Where was the Fenrir?

The sound of a door opening came just as Harry was bringing a spoonful of porridge to his mouth. As he blew on the cooked oats to cool them, he watched the farmer enter from the newly opened door. "What time did the police say they'd be here, again?"

"They didn't give an exact time but they should be here relatively soon. It's quite a drive from the nearest town but we did call them an hour and a half ago." The man's wife answered as she moved to the sink to do some washing up.

Yes, as if the situation wasn't bad enough for Harry, in a very short time he was going to be taken even further away from Fenrir, in a car no less so the werewolf wouldn't be able to follow his scent (that was even if he was coming of course). So far, he had managed to stay completely silent, neglecting to answer the concerned questions of the farmer and his wife. He couldn't be so sure that he'd be able to maintain that silence when around people as authoritive as police officers. And what, exactly, could he tell them? The truth was too unbelievable and they'd no doubt accuse him of lying especially if he brought in the werewolf part. Harry fought the urge to bow his head and rub his eyes; it was all turning into such a huge mess.

Long minutes passed then. As the farmer and his wife did their own thing around him, Harry picked at his bowl of porridge, scooping up small amounts to eat, each spoonful feeling like gravel when he tried to swallow. It wasn't that the food was badly made, it was just that the boy was in no real mood to eat and definitely wasn't in the mood to enjoy eating. Worry and fear made him feel somewhat queasy and his constant glances out of the kitchen window to his right were distraction enough. Harry told himself that he kept glancing out of the window to see when the police arrived, but deep inside he knew that he kept looking in the hope of seeing Fenrir coming to get him back.

Fenrir apparently wasn't coming though and all too soon the sight of a police car pulling into the cottage's drive-way was what Harry saw through the window. His heart sank and he felt even more sick than he had before. The farmer and his wife seemed relieved though and immediately sprang into action upon realising the car's arrival. Harry just sat there, staring down at the edge of the table, wishing for something, anything, to save him from being taken back to the Durselys.

The adults all stayed outside for several minutes, perhaps so they could discuss Harry without being over-heard by him. They came back eventually though, the farmer leading his wife who led two men dressed in police uniforms. Neither police officer looked particularly frightening or threatening but they wanted to take Harry back to his horrid relatives so, in his mind, that more than made them his adversaries.

"So this is the one who's caused all the worry, eh?" One of the police officers, the one with blond hair, said lightly as he approached Harry. "Where did you come from then?" He asked kindly.

Harry remained silent and motionless and kept his gaze glued to the edge of the table he sat at.

"So much for the theory that he'd be more willing to talk to us." The second police officer, whose hair was brown, murmured.

"How about your name? Can you tell us that?"

Stubbornly, Harry continuted to completely ignore the fact he was being spoken to.

"This obviously isn't going to work."

"Yeah, you're right," the blond agreed with his colleague. "C'mon then, lad," he said to Harry, patting him on the shoulder. "Let's get you out of here."

Now that Harry couldn't ignore. The two police officers obviously weren't going to let him remain where he was and there was no telling just how physical they would get in their persuation to get him out of the door and into the police car. He had already lost enough of Fenrir's scent, he didn't need the scent of other men covering up what little there was left of his Alpha. If anyone touched him for any prolonged length of time, their scent would get all over him. Fenrir might have forgotten about him already but Harry didn't want to forget the man and was determined to cling onto the scent for as long as possible. So, he stood without fuss, his head bowed and his eyes on the ground. He got words of congratulations for his trouble but they meant nothing to him.

"What will happen to him?" The farmer's wife asked anxiously as they all moved outside, leaving the house behind, and headed towards the police car.

"Well, we'll take him back to the station to see if we can coax any answers out of him," one of the policemen started to explain. "And we'll check the national missing persons database. No doubt he'll be back with his family before the week's out."

Harry went rigid at that as his worst fears seemed to be steadily coming true.

"Of course, if he continues to not talk or it turns out he can't talk, that'll make things trickier..."

He was going to have to go back to the Durselys...

"We'll be sure to let you know what happens though..."

Back to being starved, back to the cupboard under the stairs, back to his uncle's harsh words and punishing hands...

"In ya get then, mate." One of the police officers instructed Harry kindly as he opened the right-hand passenger door of the car.

Harry numbly did as he was told, crawling into the car and sitting down. He made no move to pull his seat-belt on and stared ahead of himself blankly. Although the door didn't shut behind him, the two policemen stood in the way of him escaping. So this was it, after seven years of running away and earning himself a happier life, he was being forced to return to his tormentors. He would have his memories though and maybe they would see him through until he could run again...

An echoing howl ceased all conversation then and pulled Harry from his angst-ridden thoughts. His eyes widened and he twisted around in his seat to look out of the car's rear window. The adults beside him were still and silent as all listened to see if the sound would come again. They were on tenter-hooks, all waiting for something they weren't sure was going to come. When another howl, this one sounding much closer, came, Harry couldn't stop the smile that crossed his face.

"Fenrir..." He whispered to himself just as said man came bounding into view, eyes wide and almost manic.

Harry didn't need to have perfect vision to know what was going on outside of the car with the arrival of Fenrir. Even if he had been completely blind, the screams that came to abrupt ends and the scent of human blood would have been enough to tell him. What was most surprising was the fact that the teenager was simply watching it all and not feeling a hint of regret or repulsion. There was his Alpha, a fierce and violent killer, cruelly ripping four people to shreds; all Harry could feel was relief and pride. Fenrir had come back for him, Fenrir was killing for him, Fenrir wanted him.

It took about five minutes in the end. The farmer and his wife went down the easiest, they had barely put up a fight. The two police officers hadn't been as easy but neither had they exactly been a challenge. Their truncheons had been nothing compared to Fenrir's cutting nails and vicious teeth and their struggles had only delayed the inevitable and made their deaths a lot messier than they would have otherwise been. They both eventually fell to the ground and Fenrir was the only one left standing, breathing hard, covered in the blood of others, eyes wild and jaw snarled.

When Fenrir turned his head just enough so he was staring directly at Harry through the glass of the back wind-screen, their eyes met and for the teenager it was the moment he had been waiting for. He couldn't get out of the car fast enough, practically falling over himself in his hurry to get out of the open passanger door. Somehow, he managed to keep his balance enough to remain on his feet so he was able to take off in an immediate run towards Fenrir. All the blood and gore and evidence of violence didn't even seem to register in Harry's mind. He passed it all without notice, his only intent to reach his Alpha. He even ignored the blood that was actually on Fenrir, not hesitating in throwing himself at the large male upon reaching him.

What happened next was a complete shock to the teenager. Harry expected his hug to be tolerated and endured, perhaps returned if he was very lucky. The last thing he thought would happen was Fenrir to wrap him in a bear hug, lift him up off of his feet and hold him tighter than Harry had ever been held before. A massive hand cradled the back of his head and he was held high enough so that his chin could rest comfortably on the werewolf's chunky shoulder. The teenager brought his arms up and looped them around Fenrir's thick neck, holding on as tightly as he could. The feeling of relief was incredible and Harry was determined to never let Fenrir go again. Even when the hand on the back of his head fisted his hair slightly and gave a small pull as a sign for him to pull back, the boy kept his arms looped around the adult's neck.

With their faces mere inches away from each other, the pack mates stared at each other right in the eyes. Green eyes glittered with unshed tears of happiness while dark, almost black, ones were ambiguous and hard to read. Then, another surprise, so shocking that Harry 's heart almost stopped; Fenrir pitched forward, closing the gap between them, and sealed their lips in a kiss.

Harry's eyes closed on instinct. He had no memory of ever being kissed before, not even on the forehead or the cheek or anywhere else, and it was like being thrown in the middle of the ocean when all he knew was the doggy paddle. Perhaps what would have shocked the boy, if he had known, was that Fenrir Greyback was just as much a kiss virgin; he too couldn't remember ever giving or receiving a kiss. What both lacked in experience, however, they made up for in enthusiasm.

There was no finesse, no technique and it was hardly an ideal first kiss for a young teenager, though not that Harry knew or cared about that. It was a rough kiss, it was possessive, it was almost violent in nature, but, dear Goddess, was it wonderful! Harry's head swam and if he had been standing, he knew his knees would have buckled under his weight. The sensation of the proximity, the velvet of the Alpha's tongue wrestling his own into submission, the hand weaved in his hair that held his head in place, the steady loss of oxygen, even the taste of the blood that had been smeared on the werewolf's lips; it was addictive.

It was for many minutes that Fenrir and Harry stood there, their lips sealed together in the intimate embrace. There was no doubt that their relationship would never be the same after that day, but maybe that was for the best.

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The farm house was eerily quiet as the kitchen door swung open. Only the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard as Harry led Fenrir into the house by the hand and then that was drowned out as the Alpha reached the table and roughly dragged one of the chairs out from underneath it to sit on.

Although lingering around the sight of a quaddrouple murder was hardly the best idea, Harry had remembered what the farmer and his wife had been discussing prior to the police's arrival; it was a long drive from the nearest town and so they had at least a couple of hours before there was even a chance of more police arriving. So the boy had suggested they take advantage of the fact no one was going to be using what was in the house and take as much as they wanted for themselves, and while they were at it, use the hot water to clean off the blood which so liberally covered Fenrir. The Alpha had out-right refused the idea of taking a bath or a shower but had consented to Harry cleaning him off with a cloth and washing his hair in the kitchen sink.

Both were silent as Harry prepared for the washing, getting a large bowl from one of the cabinets and filling it with warm water from the sink, but it wasn't an uncomfortable or awkward silence. The kiss they had just shared was obviously not regretted by either but it also wasn't something they were willing to discuss right at that moment. And, in all truth, there was no great rush to discuss it.

Something Fenrir wished to talk about sooner rather than later was the issue of why he had smelt Harry's blood before and why the teenager was now very obviously limping. When Harry approached him once again, bearing the large bowl of warm water which he rested on the kitchen table, the Alpha caught his arm before he could move away again, forcing the boy to stop and look at him. Harry tensed then and one had to wonder what exactly he was expecting to happen next.

"How's your cheek?" The Alpha questioned gruffly.

Harry offered a light, slightly nervous smile as he brought his hand up to rub at his severely bruised cheek from where he had been slapped the previous day. "It's nothing too terrible."

"And what happened to your leg?" Fenrir grunted, sounding half accusing and half concerned.

Harry blinked at that before the tension left his body; whatever he had been expecting obviously hadn't happened. "I followed in your footsteps and got my leg caught in a bear trap." He revealed, his tone rather embarrassed. "In my defense, I was in a rush and my eye sight is poor even when I'm calm."

The large male growled lightly at that piece of information and his eyes shot down to look at the teenager's legs, even though they were hidden underneath the black robe. "Let me see."

The boy obediently lifted up the appropriate side of the robe to show where his injury had been bandaged thoroughly. "I'd rather not take off the bandage if you don't mind," he said almost apologetically.

Another rumbling growl came from somewhere deep in Fenrir's throat. "Fine." He muttered, obviously not pleased but willing to allow the wound to remain covered from his gaze.

Harry smiled gratefully just as he was released so he could continue with what he had been doing before. He moved over to where a tee-towel was resting on a counter top so he could quickly seize the piece of cloth before returning to his Alpha. "Did they hurt you at all?" The boy inquired as he dipped half the towel in the bowl of water.

"No more than a few bruises."

"That's good." Harry smiled as he started to busy himself with wiping off the blood (which was mostly dry at that point) that covered his elder's body.

The easy silence took over again then as the younger of the pair methodically wiped off as much blood as he could before he had to wring out the dirty water and re-moisten the towel. Although Fenrir wasn't speaking, his mind was working over time as he thought over what was to happen. His relationship with the boy was going to change even if he didn't want it to (so it was just as well he did) but there was still a question mark over how quickly it was going to change. Perhaps, the Alpha decided, it would be best to first feel out how knowledgeable Harry was about certain things before anything was decided and set in stone.

"Pup?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you know about sex?"

"Never even heard of it, let alone know anything about it."

"All right then, what about mating? How much do you know about that?"

"About as much as Isaac told me about it so I don't know, would that be a lot?"

Fenrir growled. "You're being bloody awkward."

"I don't mean to be." Harry said apologetically. His speaking paused then but his cleaning of Fenrir's body didn't as he thought about what to say. "Isaac used to tell me," he began again, "that mating is something two people do when they love each other very much and it involves having a bit of a kiss and a cuddle." Another pause as the boy angled his head to look at his Alpha's face. "Is there more to it than that?"

"Yeah, a lot more." Fenrir grunted, not in the least surprised by his Sire's innocent and romanticised version of the process.

"Oh..." The teenager murmured, his movements slowing slightly. "Are you going to teach me more about mating?"

"Yeah."

"Are...Are we going to mate together?"

"Eventually."

"When?"

"When I'm satisfied that you know enough to understand exactly what you're getting into."

"Does that mean I have to wait until I can kiss you again?"

Kissing was as good a place as any to start but Fenrir felt like teasing the boy a bit. "Yes." He smirked lightly and was more than satisfied to see Harry grow down-heartened by that. "Although," he continued, his smirk widenning. "If you're a good puppy, I might make some exceptions."

"Really?" Harry gasped in delight, obviously cheered up by that idea.

Fenrir simply gave a light chuckle and a nod before leaning back, closing his eyes and relaxing. Harry glanced up at the man and a gentle smile curved his lips as he returned to his self-appointed duty of cleaning off the blood. Both felt better than they had done for months.

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Another year was coming to an end and both the cold weather and winter had well and truly set in. Snow clouds had been looming over-head throughout the day though neither Harry nor Fenrir had been aware of that as they led a nocturnal existence. The clouds had finally broken at a little before sun-set and that had been when Harry had woken.

As sleep started to leave to be replaced with consciousness, Fenrir became immediately aware that he wasn't curled around the warmth of another's body as he should've been. His eyes flew open in an instant and he sat up in a flash, suddenly completely awake with his heart rate having picked up. Much to his relief (and irritation), he soon saw that his initial concern/panic was unnecessary. His sleeping partner wasn't very far away, just a few metres outside of the cave, doing what could only be described as dancing in the snow.

It was, admittedly, a very nice sight. Fenrir wasn't really one for romantic thoughts or for appreciating beauty, but even he had to admit that there was something about Harry at that moment which was beautiful. The boy's movements were graceful and light, his feet seeming to barely touch the ground before they had left again; his cheeks were rosy and flushed, either from the cold or from the exersion; the snow that clung to the messy hair and the long eye-lashes glittered in the fading light of the day; and the smile, so calm and soft but clearly very happy, made him look innocent and angelic. Fenrir thought it strange that he found it such a pleasing sight. The only way he had been attracted to innocence and purity before was feeling the desire to taint and ruin it. As he watched his puppy dance, however, he felt a sudden and overwhelming desire to protect that innocence, to maintain as much of it as possible.

That realisation disgruntled Fenrir (as many of his most recent realisations tended to) and as always he was going to take it out on Harry. He strode out of the cave and over to the boy (and heard, upon approach, that the youth was singing to himself happily), intending to drag the smaller male back into the cave. When he reached to seize Harry though, the teenager seemed to know it was coming as he deftly managed to swerve away from the grab. The Alpha gave a low, warning growl at the evasion but all Harry did was give him a playful and slightly cheeky smile as he started to use the larger form as an accessory to his dance, twirling around him and occassionally using him as something to hold onto to swing himself around.

After tolerating the foolish (in Fenrir's opinion anyway) behaviour for long enough, the man caught hold of Harry's shoulder, forcing the boy to a stop mid-prance. Then, in one quick movement, Fenrir yanked the smaller male back and wrapped his arms around the slight waist. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Dancing." Harry giggled as he relaxed in his Alpha's arms, turning his head and resting his cheek against the warm, naked chest.

"Why?"

The boy turned his head a little more and looked up at with glittering eyes and flushed, rosy cheeks. "Because I'm happy."

For a moment, Fenrir was struck dumb by the sight of his pup and the beautiful picture the teenager made in his arms. He quickly forced himself to recover though. With a murmur of a growl, he hefted Harry up and slung him over his shoulder, ignoring the protests that prompted. "You'll end up catching hypothermia if you do something as stupid as dance in the snow."

"But it's because it's snowing that I'm happy!" Harry insisted as he tried to wriggling free from the werewolf, obviously not the least tired out by his previous exersions.

"You've seen snow before." Was all the Alpha said to that and he hauled the boy off of his shoulder and planted his feet on the ground.

"I know, but it's different this time. Don't you remember?" Harry asked gently as he took one of Fenrir's hands in both of his own and brought it up so he could nuzzle that palm. "The last time it snowed was the year we first met."

Was it? Fenrir honestly couldn't remember and he didn't see how it mattered but apparently it meant something to Harry. The image of the beautiful young teenager dancing and singing in the falling snow so joyfully re-entered the werewolf's mind then. He gave a light huff, a cloud of mist leaving him as he did, and rolled his eyes. "You have until the sun sets." He grunted reluctantly.

Harry's eyes lit up at that. He gave Fenrir's hand a teasing pull as a playful smile quirked his lips. "Come with me."

Fenrir snorted a snatched his hand away. "Don't push your luck."

The boy laughed at that before turning and dancing back outside, twirling and prancing gracefully, his song starting again as his eyes closed and he did nothing more than simply feel.

From where he was safely sheltered in the cave, Fenrir watched the child he had come to love with a softness in his eyes so completely unlike him. He found it so hard to believe that only a couple of months ago, he and Harry had been so far apart. It seemed so sudden that they were now closer than they had ever been and Fenrir knew he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. He would be damned if he said as much out loud though; after all, he had a certain reputation to live up to.

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End of Chapter 6.
This chapter sort of brings an end to what I like to think of as the prologue. Yes, I know, it's one Hell of a long prologue but these six chapters have just been setting up Harry and Fenrir's relationship really. Next chapter, the main plot of the story begins.
Now, some of you are no doubt wondering how long this is going to be. I still have no idea, but I can tell you that I'm up to writing Chapter 17 and I have written plans up to Chapter 20. If I had to estimate how long I think this will be, I'd say no shorter than 30 chapters. I think there might be just over 30 chapters but it's hard to tell at the moment. As soon as I've made a firm decision, I'll let you all know.

Review replies!

BRM
You're crying for Fenrir when Harry's the one who's being taken away? ...Kay O.o

amazingZ
One of your favourite chapters, hmm? That's always nice to hear :)

Articwolf8556
As you saw here, Fenrir apologising in words would be a bit of a stretch but his kisses work just as well :D

ladyroo88
Yes, Fenrir is a jerk but that's why we love him...Sort of XD

celestialuna
I'm glad you liked it :)

applesauce_N_soysauce
I wasn't cruel and I didn't pull them apart, they're back together and more happy with the way things are :D Will lack of communication flare up as an issue again though? Only me and my computer know :D

Sinfully Addicted
As you saw in this chapter, the farmer wasn't anyone important XD

Ewe
All your questions were answered in this chapter so I'll just take the time to say thank you for reviewing :)

That's all from me for another time. Take care all and I'll see you all again for the next chapter :)

Hugs
Dream
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