Dying To Love You

Played. That’s what had happened. He had been fucking played like a damn violin. Harry Potter had been sitting in the club on the same stool staring at the same drink for the past two hours. He had been told that someone would meet him there to discuss some things that might be important to his future. It had been an anonymous letter sent by owl to the Dursley’s, the shit-hole that old Dumbles made him go to every summer. Some of you may not understand what is happening in the life and mind of our young Mr. Potter, so let me explain some of it.
Harry Potter is a wizard. A bloody fucking wizard that all of the wizarding world has been relying on to save their sorry asses from big bad Lord Voldemort, dark lord extraordinaire. Said dark lord had supposedly killed young Harry’s parents when he was a year old. Well Voldie was ‘vanquished’ by Harry that same night and wandered the globe as a disembodied spirit. Harry was placed with his magic hating muggle relatives who promptly gushed at the prospect of a free maid a few years down the road. At the age of eleven Harry was reintroduced to the wizarding world and sent to school at Hogwarts where things rapidly went to shit and stayed there for over six years.
Now the almost seventeen year old was waiting for the very late contact that was supposed to have some info for him. Having had enough of the waiting, Harry was about to get up to leave since he needed to be back at the Dursley’s for feeding time at the zoo in a few hours. About to call for the check, Harry felt someone sit down on the stool next to him. Looking over, he saw the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. Without realizing Harry was staring at the man, taking in every detail he could.
The man was about 6’4 with brown hair peppered with grey that fell down his back almost to his ass. He was well sculpted in tight black pants and a sleeveless muscle shirt showing off his tattoos that ran towards the animalistic and the demonic including a mixture of the two. Harry couldn’t see his eyes as the man was wearing sunglasses, but his skin was tanned and weather roughened and he wore a well kept goatee that accentuated a very kissable looking mouth.
Harry was brought out of his thoughts when the dark haired stranger spoke, “Like what you see, sweet? If you like, I could give you a closer look at . . . ANY body part that you may want to see.” The man licked his lips while looking Harry up and down as if to assess his prowess.
“Don’t you think you should tell me who you are before making an offer like that, sir? Someone might get the wrong idea about me if they heard you talking like that. I’m Harry by the way, and you are . . .?” Harry faded off waiting for a response from the sexy stranger before he went on.
Fenrir was enjoying the teasing banter with the petite pup whose scent was about to drive him insane if he couldn’t get more of it. Hearing the question from the delectable pup he answered, “The name’s Fenrir. I’m here on business tonight, I’m looking for someone and am quite late actually. Maybe you could help me find him so that I can get done and maybe spend some more time getting to know you, love.” When he saw the face that the pretty pup was making he could have killed Voldemort at that very moment for giving him this lame ass mission. If it weren’t for the Potter brat, he could be upstairs fucking this pup into the mattress and showing him what an alpha he could be.
Harry felt like he could melt into the floor at that very moment. He shouldn’t be flirting with strange men when he was supposed to be waiting for this mysterious and annoyingly late messenger. But he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that about Fenrir looking for someone else. Being the boy he was, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Sure I can help you as much as I can. Can you give me a description of the person that you are looking for?” as soon as the words left his mouth he was kicking himself in the head for it.
“Well, he’s a kid around seventeen black hair, green eyes, probably walking around like he owns the place,” Harry froze as Fenrir continued his description getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, “most likely wearing the best of the best in clothing fashion, goes by the name of . . . Harry.” Fenrir stopped talking as he took in the appearance of his companion, taking a closer look. His pup, his Harry had black messy hair and the most brilliant green eyes that could outshine a handful of emeralds. He was rather short around 5’4 or 5’5 and he had the build of a child that had been mistreated growing up and was wearing clothes that were several sizes too big but had been shabbily tailored to almost fit his slight frame. That’s when it hit him. The boy had said his name was Harry. But this couldn’t possibly be Potter. From what he had heard of the boy he was treated like the king of the universe by his relatives.
“What’s your last name pup? And do not lie to me, I will be able tell if you lie.” Fenrir was dreading the boy’s answer because he was almost certain of what he would say. Harry mumbled something that Fenrir couldn’t quite understand, “sorry pup, what did you say?”
“I said that my surname is Potter. You must be the one I was told to wait for. I guess you don’t want to continue our conversation from earlier now. I guess we should conclude this business and I’ll leave you be. Do you have some documents for me?”
Fenrir was in shock. Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that Harry bloody fucking Potter could have been this breathtaking but obviously abused child. Hearing the words and the tone in which they were said brought him out of that train of thought. He heard the complete and utter dejection and self-hate in those few sentences and wanted to throttle himself when he remembered what he had said. “Harry, I’m sorry about what I said a few minutes ago. I was repeating what I had been told about you. But I can see that they were wrong. You look like you haven’t been fed in a couple of days. And you look exhausted, when was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”
“Don’t worry about me Fenrir. I’ve survived more than a few days without food and worse injuries than the ones I’ve got.” These words shocked Fenrir even more. He took a big whiff of the air and caught the scent that he should have noticed earlier, blood, and it was strongest on Harry. “Look, I have to get back soon or I’ll be in even more trouble than I undoubtedly am in right now. Please can I have the documents? You can tell whoever they’re from that I will write to him when I have finished reading them.” Fenrir couldn’t find any words to say to Harry about the situation. He silently slid a thick folder full of papers towards Harry. With a mumbled “Thanks” Harry grabbed the folder and rushed out of the club while shoving the folder into his jacket. Fenrir quickly snapped out of his daze and followed Harry out the door, making sure that the boy didn’t detect him.


Please read and review. (Go easy on me, this is my first fic)