Hungry Like The Wolf

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. Jo invented them, all of them!

cateye: Yes, they are together. I couldn't hold onto it a moment longer.

Avanell: I hope you enjoy this chapter as much.

lisa: Lol! He certainly does need to learn manners. Hmm, yep, that kiss was nice.

LadyErinSnape: I love all your multiple reviews. I believe that Hermione trusts Snape truly. She doesn't seem to be accepting Dumbledore's death at face value. She knows people well... I think she's more perceptive than Harry. Fenrir is wonderfully sexy in his own way. I don't like Bill and Fleur as a couple its too Barbie and Ken for my liking, so they won't feature much. I thought that the blood thing would make sense too, as they are Werwolves.

SmileZ: Fenrir Greyback is a character that features very briefly at the end of HBP. He is also the reason that Remus Lupin is a Werewolf. As for Fenrir being cute... well, you're asking the wrong girl, I think he's cute. But then I am physically repulsed by all the Weasley boys... I prefer my men to be a bit, er? Beastly!!!

Blue Moon on Monday

Hermione sat hunched up in the wall, and she felt miserable. Surely someone should have come for her by now. How could the Order leave her? Didn’t ANYONE know what was going to happen tonight? Surely Severus would know, but just her luck for Severus to have mysteriously lost his powers. He would have come for her by now. He was never one to sit back and let a person suffer dangers. She smiled as she thought of Severus; she smiled as she thought about the kiss that they shared in the library.

“What are you smiling about, my dear?” Fenrir asked.

“Nothing,” Hermione sighed. She had to get out of here somehow. “Do you mind if I go for a walk?”

“Oh, I’m not going to let you out of my sight, my pretty,” Fenrir said. “I want you.”

“I won’t be too long,” Hermione said. “Just a little walk.”

“Give me your wand, girl,” Fenrir said.

Hermione sighed. That wasn’t going to work. But she did need to be on her own, and if that meant that the relinquishing of her wand to this man, then so be it. She took her wand out of her jeans pocket and she gave it to him. Fenrir smirked as he noted the wood. Vine! She was a September birth. That worked well for him.

She got up and walked out of the cave. She brushed down the dirt off her clothes, and took a walk around her surroundings. The cave was situated in a mountain. She walked to the edge and noticed that when the moon would be full and risen she would be in its direct light. She shook her head, what else did she expect?

She found that there was a thin path twisting its way down to a broad flat plain, and her eyes was caught by the gold of the sun glinting on some water. Its beauty transfixed her; she turned around and decided to make her way down the plain. She couldn’t apparate; he’d made sure of that. She made her way down the mountainside to feel the soft summers breeze on the meadow. She wanted to remember happier times.

She felt the softness of the grass beneath her naked feet. She let the wind play about in her hair. She did cartwheels, and handstands. She ran, skipped and jumped pretending to be a little girl on a picnic with her parents. That was the only way she could cope with this ghastly situation.

Fenrir decided to follow her. He wanted to watch what she’d do when she thought that she was on her own. He watched with fascination. He sat on the ledge watching her doing some silly moves with her hands, but he scented her happiness, and almost laughed with delight.

She walked up to the stream; he tried to ignore the golden shimmer in the water. He watched Hermione sit on the edge of the grass bank and dangle her feet in the crystal waters. He sat on the ledge. He was so tempted to jump down and go up to her, but he was holding on until the night when the Moon his Mistress would make her ghostly appearance.

He contemplated her antics. They were obviously some sort of muggle mating ritual. Strange these muggles, he thought, it’s a wonder how they manage to mate with rituals like that! He’d have to ask her what they were when she came back.

He smirked a little at his good fortune. He also frowned as Remus quick answer to his subtle call had confirmed his suspicions. If this girl did turn a little sour and there was nothing that could be done about it then he might have to have Miss Changeatwill after all. Although the prospect of that made him shudder! Something else made him quiver, although this time with delight. And that was the deal he’d had with the Ministry.

She laid on her back and her top rose up and he licked his lips at the sight of her bare flesh. She had a charming body. She wasn’t too thin. Thank goodness, he mused, he hated stick thin women. He liked a bit of meat on his women. He hadn’t had many; most of his sexual experiences were when he was an adolescent. But he had a few since. It was true when he said he’d wanted and craved a mate.

Lord Voldemort had promised him one years ago, but he never received his mate, then. He had asked about her, but the Lord Crucio’d him for his enquiry, and since then he kept quiet about it. He couldn’t wait for very much longer, Lord Voldemort might have ever gaining immortality but he didn’t. Werewolves could be killed.

Hermione let the sun warm her stomach for a while. She then turned over so that her back got some of the rays. She wasn’t normally a sun worshipper but with no books or parchments she had nothing else to do. She hoped that Fenrir didn’t live ALL his life in that cave. There must be some parts of him that crazed human comforts. She hoped.

If he didn’t have a home then she would have to sort that out. She liked humanity’s comforts. She was too much into what civilisation could offer her. She longed for a book now. What wouldn’t she give for a book, or three. She folded her arms and settled her chin on her joined hands and decided to close her eyes.

She dreamt of Severus Snape next to her. He was more relaxed in her dream. His shirt was off and he was wearing sunglasses. She was nestled against him as he was reading a book of Byron’s poetry to her. She was almost going to fling the book out of his hands and start making love to him, when she felt a shadow loom over her. She blinked and Fenrir stood in front of her. She sighed.

“You’ve been out for long enough,” he said. “Come back in.”

Hermione rolled on her side and took her feet out of the cool, welcome water. She got on her knees and Fenrir grabbed her up by one of her elbows.

“I’m coming,” she said impatiently.

“It’s going to be twilight soon,” he said.

He grabbed her hand, and dragged her along the meadow back to his cave. The peace she felt was shattered. It was a sharp reality to be faced with, and it was so unfair.

She loved Snape; she could not deny that, even if she tried. She couldn’t stop thinking about him and wondering how he was going to cope in the Order without her to protect him. She had a crush on him in their fifth year, and steadfastly refused to believe him as truly evil. He was a good man. How cruel for this to happen!

“Um, sir,” Hermione said, not wishing to say his first name. “Do you have a house?”

“Greyback Grange,” he answered. “Yes. Don’t worry; I am not so cruel as to make you live her indefinitely. Cubs need comfort and warmth,” he said. “When you’re with cubs I’ll take you there. I want my offspring to be comfortable and well cared for.”

He liked her small voice as she asked that question. She also liked her calling him sir; it was as it should be. She might be his Queen, but she was still subservient to him.

“Where is it?”

“Yorkshire,” he snapped. “Now I have a question to ask you. What were those movements you were making on the grass?”

“Cartwheels and handstands,” Hermione answered.

“Are they some form of Muggle Mating ritual?”

Hermione laughed. Fenrir didn’t like the laugh. It was almost as if she was mocking him.

“No,” she said. He did like the glint in her eyes though. “It’s just something Muggle children do in the summer. Actually mainly Muggle girls, it’s a sort of competitive thing. The girl who does the best is generally the best of the group.”

Fenrir could understand that. It was similar with young Werewolves. They played for competition and training.

“I see,” he said. “So why were you doing them with no one to compete with?”

“Because I just wanted to see if I still could, and somehow the plain bought back childhood memories of picnics with my parents.”

“How quaint,” he drawled.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “My parents may not matter very much to you, sir, but they mean the world to me. And if ANY of your kind hurt them then I will...”

“Nothing much matters to me, Hermione, you’ll find that with time. Werewolves only care for their own.”

“My parents ARE my own,” Hermione said hotly.

“I suppose they would be, wouldn’t they?”

He slumped down against the cave wall and looked at her contemplatively.

“What now?” she asked.

“Nothing, just sit down and wait for the Mistress Moon to make her appearance.”

Hermione gulped. Where are they? Doesn’t Remus know what tonight is?

^*^*^*

Remus sat on his own in his kitchen, slumped in the chair and feeling sorry for himself. He had drunk his potion and was starting to feel the pull of the Moon on his cycle. He hated Blue Moons. He hated the feeling that he was no longer in control. He was thankful for Snape’s and Dora’s constant nagging. He drank down some fire whiskey and got up. He had to make his way to the forest soon otherwise Dora might get hurt.

He opened the backdoor and walked past the greenhouse. He looked up at the sky. It was painted with all the glorious colours of English summer twilight. He sighed, as he couldn’t contemplate its beauty. Not tonight. He also lamented the fact that even as a Werewolf he couldn’t help Hermione, as he wouldn’t know who she was. He hated being what he was. He wished that Snape hadn’t mysteriously lost his powers.

He opened the wooden gate and it swung back, and he walked up to the forest that was not far from his cottage. The trees looked ominous and frightening at the approach of full moon, but everything looked ominous and frightening at the approach of Mistress Moon. It was on night’s like this that he wished Bellatrix was a mate of his, but he quickly banished that thought out of his head. How could he think of that bitch, (he snorted at the terminology), when he had a lovely, understanding woman in Dora Tonks? He planned on proposing to Dora soon, but until they recovered Hermione he couldn’t think about his own happiness. That was too selfish for his character to allow.

^*^*^*

Dora watched him from the window from her bedroom and sighed. Perhaps she’d change into Aunty Bellatrix one more time. He had suffered today. She could not believe Harry’s treatment of his father’s friend. The way he turned his back on the Werewolf chilled her. Had he been there he’d have realised that NOTHING could be done. Severus was nicer towards Remus than Harry. She shook her head at the thought of Snape. She couldn’t think about him. She had a feeling that Severus was beginning to hold a candle for Hermione. She sort of smiled at that. She liked the idea of her and Hermione being the girlfriends of two old school acquaintances.

She wasn’t at all surprised by Snape’s feelings. She was slightly worried, but not too much so. Snape might have been many things but she knew that he wasn’t a pervert. He probably felt wrong for having the feelings that he did have.

She sighed, and watched as Remus sloped off in the shadows of the forest. She wished she could offer more support for him, but apart from turning into a Werewolf herself, she couldn’t think of anything else she could do. And if she did turn into a Werewolf it would be a very apt case of the blind leading the blind.

^*^*^*

Severus was on his own in his room in Grimmauld Place. He felt alone and miserable, he was hoping to have spent the day with Hermione curled up on the sofa with his arms around her discussing potions.

‘How romantic,’ his mind sneered. ‘The girl of your dreams, and you want to bore her to sleep.’

He ignored his mind, like he always did. He was about to kick his robes off and go under the covers to sleep when someone opened his door. He cringed, and scurried over to the wardrobe and hid behind it. Everybody in this house was an enemy.

“Snape?” it was Miss Weasley. “Snape, I know you’re bloody in here, show yourself.”

He stepped out of his hiding place and Ginny almost laughed at the way he sloped out like a naughty boy.

“Yes, Miss Weasley?” he asked.

“Do you want to get Hermione out of there?” Ginny asked.

“What? But you can’t apparate.”

“Huh! Really?” she snorted. “I’ve been able to apparate since I was seven. I accidentally did it when I wanted to get away from my brothers. I apparated straight into Florean Fortescue’s, a dream come true. Unfortunately, I didn’t want to leave, so I didn’t apparate back. My mother ground me for a month.”

“She was more lenient than I would have been,” Snape replied silkily, “if you were my daughter I would have never let you out again.”

Ginny smiled. “But I’ve honed it since then. I became a hero with Fred and George.”

Snape smiled. “I can’t say I blame you, though.”

“I can transport other people,” Ginny said. “Do you want to come with me or not.”

“Why do you want to help Hermione? She dumped your brother.”

“He told me the circumstance’s. I said that I didn’t blame her. Listen,” she sighed placing her hands firmly on her hips. “I don’t like you. But I have more reason to despise Fenrir. Anything to foil whatever sick plans he might have in his head the better.”

“I would love to, Miss Weasley,” he said. “But it would be impossible. I do not doubt your abilities, but I don’t think it would help my relations with Potter if I willingly place both you and Hermione in more danger.”

“Don’t be such a ninny, Severus, do you love her or don’t you.”

“Yes,” he answered, “but crash banging into Fenrir’s cave bringing a friend of hers into mortal danger is not my idea of showing her how much I love her!”

“You are too bloody noble for a Slytherin, why weren’t you put in Gryffindor?”

“And have my brain turn to cabbage, no thank you. Although I could ask why you weren’t put in Slytherin?”

She smirked and tilted her head to one side. She had decided to give Snape a chance. She wanted to keep Hermione as a friend, and true friendship meant that you accepted your friend’s friend.

“And end up with Draco Malfoy? Please! Harry might be acting like a world-class idiot at the moment, but he’s still got more fight than Malfoy. At least Harry can tie his own shoe lace.”

Snape had to give her that. She looked harder at Snape and felt that he needed a good flirt. Hermione wouldn’t mind, besides Hermione knew Ginny’s ability to flirt could sometimes bring out the best in people, and Snape needed the best brought out of him.

Ginny also had an ulterior motive. She wanted to get away from Phlegm, and her wedding plans. True she was extremely upset over the capture of Hermione but she didn’t need to act like a tragedy queen over it.

“Is that all, Miss Weasley?” Snape asked.

“No, lets talk.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend would be better company,” Snape said.

“He’s being a prat at the moment,” she fumed. “Besides I won’t talk to him unless he apologises to Lupin.”

Snape sighed and rolled his eyes. It looked like short of throwing her out he was stuck with the Weaslette.

^*^*^*

Hermione watched the darkening sky with trepidation. She didn’t want to stay here when Fenrir would turn into a Werewolf. Her heart was beating fast in her chest as she looked at the descending of the sun and the ascent of the moon. It was a strange paradox that made her almost scream. She didn’t even want to look at Fenrir’s leer.

“Almost time, my sweet,” he growled. The look in his eyes were glazed over with some sort of feeling that she could not understand. She was trying to think of the appropriate emotion that would apply to this.

The hours ticked by. Hermione kept gazing at her watch. Soon the moon would rise and there would be no escape. Fenrir got up and to Hermione’s shock and embarrassment he started taking his clothes off. He slipped his ragged shirt off his back, and then he smirked at her. She blushed as she turned her head away.

“Please,” she said, “could you do that somewhere more private?”

“Oh no, Hermione, I want you to see me in all my glory,” Hermione almost gagged at that. “Just like I want to see you in yours.”

Hermione’s jaw hung open. “I am not going to strip in front of you!”

Fenrir growled, although it sounded more like laughter. It still sent shivers down Hermione’s spine, and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

“I haven’t really shown anybody my naked body,” Hermione said.

Fenrir smirked. “Well, doesn’t that make me the lucky one?”

His hands stretched the waistband of his trousers. He then placed his hands on his button. He slowly took the button out of the hook. Hermione watched this display with sick fascination. He slowly unzipped his flies. She gulped.

Turn away! She thought to herself. Turn away, NOW!

“You must understand that I do NOT want to watch,” she said stiffly.

“Oh, I think you do,” Fenrir sneered. “You do want to watch me become naked.”

Hermione watched as he slid his trousers down his legs. He stepped out of them with more grace than she thought he would. He smirked wildly as he noticed her eyes widen at the sight of his naked tackle. Her jaw hung open, and he laid his hand on it.

She turned away, blushing as red as a Weasley’s hair. He walked up to her and tilted her chin up.

“Get off,” she hissed.

“Oh no,” he said softly. “Now it’s your turn, Hermione. Glory in your nakedness, Hermione. Be proud of what you truly are.”

Hermione sighed. She looked down on the cave floor. She stood up and washed her eyes over his body. It’s a pity he doesn’t take more care of it. He could actually be quite sexy if he washed up. He had powerful well-defined muscles adorning his chest and legs. She slowed her gaze as she noticed how wonderful his legs actually were.

She backed away from him. He was watching her with a hint of pleasure. He loved the scent of trepidation, it was his favourite scent, as trepidation was akin to fear, and he loved fear.

She decided to undress herself, as there was no other way out. She wasn’t stupid. Besides she realised she had to gain the Werewolf’s trust. She unhooked her bra before taking off her blue cotton summer top. She slipped the straps slowly down her arms. Fenrir continued leering as he noticed how beautiful her breasts were. They were the shape of two full moons; his tongue hung out of his mouth and he drooled at the sight of them.

She then unbuttoned her jeans and slipped them down her legs. He was beginning to salivate. She was wearing white cotton panties. It was a glaring symbol of her innocence and youth. He loved that! She took them down and kicked them off. She stood, shivering under his intense gaze.

“And tell me, Hermione, why are you so ashamed of this?”

He stepped closer to her and stroked his hands down her sides. She sighed. He might be grotesque, a beast, but he knew how to touch her.

“I have never been sexy,” Hermione said, “I have always preferred going in a bookshop than a makeup parlour.”

“Maybe because you don’t need to be made up!” Fenrir exclaimed brushing a finger across her lips.

He was just about to kiss her but the moon had risen in the sky. He answered the call of Mistress Moon, and he stepped out on the ledge. He turned around and smiled.

He looked glorious in the glare of the silvered orb that hung in the sky. Mistress Moon embraced Fenrir lovingly. She was awestruck by the power and majesty that he commanded. He held out his hand.

“Come, Hermione, accept my hand.”

Hermione stepped out of the cave and took his hand. He pulled her close to him. She could feel his erection pressing against her leg.

“What are -?” She didn’t have time to finish her question as she saw that she was no longer holding a hand, but a paw. She turned and she saw that he was slowly turning into a Werewolf. She gulped as she witnessed his face transform into that of the wolf. She felt her body being pressed against the shaggy silvery grey form of Fenrir as the Werewolf.

He was standing on his hind legs. Hermione wanted to run and hide but the paw gripped her shoulder; she held in a scream. She didn’t want to be like all those silly actresses in 1930’s monster films. She was going to remain calm!

Her breathing became stifled. She felt the paws around her neck. She decided to take swift action. She kicked him out from under his hind legs. He yelped in pain. She heard the sickening crack as his body landed against the rocky surface.

She ran down the pathway to get to the safety of the meadow. Perhaps if she could make it to the woods the far side of the meadow, maybe she could escape. She ran across the meadow under the sneering glow of Mistress Moon.

It seemed the Moon wanted to please her Master as she glowed an extra brightness in the spots that Hermione wanted to hide in. She didn’t turn back, and she didn’t stop. Her feet were sore, and she winced as stinging nettles hidden amongst the grass stung the soles of her feet.

Her breathing became intense and ragged, and she reached the edge of the woods and was near to relative safety when she heard a growl. She turned her head wildly in all directions trying to determine the direction it came from so that she could run in the opposite direction.

She spun on her heel and found herself face to face with Fenrir. She froze on the spot. Her heart had leapt into her throat. The fear kept her rooted to the spot. She took a step back but her foot got caught in a twisted tree root. She tried to scramble up but it was too late.

Fenrir leapt on her and placed one of his front paws between her legs close to her vagina. His other front paw was placed on one side of her head. He was dripping saliva onto her naked breasts. He growled and bent his head down to lick the saliva off her breast. Hermione was trapped and sobbed silently, as his warm, hot wet tongue lapped on her breast.

Fenrir sniffed her and his black eyes glinted with cold calculation. He bent down and sniffed her neck. He snarled, and then he opened his jaws and bit into her flesh.

Hermione’s blood curdling scream pierced the night sky and she interrupted the ravens nestling in the trees as they fluttered out of the nests and flew into the moon, away from danger. Cawing in fright.

Fenrir stepped away from her; he watched her twisting writhing body change from a human to a Werewolf. She didn’t know anything like it. She felt bones grow inside her body. She felt her limbs elongate painfully. Her hands clamped together and hairs were growing on the back of her hands, and they slowly turned into paws. She was clawing at the ground. She sat up on her knees and eventually on all fours assuming the position of the Werewolf. She winced with agony as she felt the tail grow out of her bum.

She was now a Werewolf; she was smaller than Fenrir. She wasn’t aware of whom she was. Fenrir prowled around her. He rubbed one side of his body down one side of hers, and then he rubbed his body up the other side. He then slid his back under her chin. Scenting her with his scent, marking her as his property. Hermione bowed her head in submission and he licked the top of her head.

He then ran off and she was just about to follow when he looked back at her and gave her a stare that told her to stay. She sat awkwardly on her haunches. Fenrir came back holding a dead rat; he placed it on the floor and nudged it towards her. She sniffed it tentatively, and then started eating the dead rat.

Fenrir sat in front of her as she ate the rat, protecting her from other male wolves in the vicinity. When she was finished she padded her way to him and started licking his jaw. He sniffed the air. She was ready to mate.

He stalked her, and then he sniffed her bum. He clambered on top of her. His paws clamped around her sides and he began pumping into her. She howled with pain but he continued thrusting into her. When his seed entered her he came out of her. He laid down on the ground in the glare of Mistress Moon, and closed his eyes. Hermione padded her way over to him and licked his ear before she too went to sleep.

A/N I think that this is slightly different to Beastiality. If we're going to be that pedantic then surely Harry is the result of beastiality... lol! I am kind of basing this on Belgarath and Poledra from the Belgariad... but more evil.