Title: Forever Midnight
Authors: Anne Phoenix and Snakeling
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Fenrir
Summary: "There was an odd intelligence in the werewolf's eyes, which meant that Fenrir had taken Wolfsbane. That only made Harry's situation all the more horrifying"
Warning: graphic m/m non-con slash, violence and mpreg.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Beta: dracos_doll
***
Forever Midnight
Part 1
Being left in a forest overrun with werewolves on the night of the full moon, Harry had feared death, but not that. He had not understood when Bellatrix had tied him, naked, to the old tree stump.
But he understood now.
There was an odd intelligence in the werewolf's eyes, which meant that Fenrir had taken Wolfsbane. That only made Harry's situation all the more horrifying.
Suddenly, the beast was over him, its jaws only a few inches from Harry's face, its paws delicately holding down his arms. The ropes binding him loosened momentarily and he was flipped around, bark tearing at his skin, the edge of the stump cutting into his stomach where he was bent double over it. The werewolf's paws gripped him tightly around the waist – Oh God, the beast was mounting him! Blunt claws dug into him, imprisoned him. There was a firm pressure against his bare arse … and then the most excruciating pain.
Harry screamed.
He was being turned inside out, he was being ripped; his hands scrabbled uselessly at the dirt as he tried to buck free of the werewolf's grip. It was completely hopeless. The ropes held tight and the werewolf had him impaled from behind and gripped him all around. Harry had never imagined such pain; even in his worst nightmares, he'd never been so helpless.
Would the werewolf kill him when he was … finished? Harry could feel hot breath on the back of his neck, so terribly close – he couldn't shake the idea of those sharp canines piercing his skin, bleeding him dry. But surely that wouldn't hurt as much as the almost unberable thrusting in his arse? Was the werewolf's prick made of sandpaper?
Werewolf.
Prick.
Harry's screams echoed through the forest, louder and shriller than before.
He felt so faint, his head dizzy with the unbelievable reality of his plight. The werewolf was lapping at the back of his neck now, its saliva thicker than the sweat it was savouring.
Harry retched. He was nothing but prey…
The taste of vomit in his mouth could not distract from the rutting werewolf … as if anything could. It was like having a knitting needle pushed up his arse, probing his insides. So deep, so incredibly painful!
It was too much. Harry felt his thoughts receding; they were becoming confused and disjointed. He welcomed the approaching darkness and didn't even feel his chin hit the base of the old tree stump as he collapsed.
***
"What happened?"
He felt the words leaving his mouth before he even knew he was conscious. There was no answer to his groggy query; nothing but the rustling of leaves and the twittering of birds.
Harry licked his parched lips, tasting vomit and soil. His eyes flew open – never mind what happened; where was he?
He remembered the moment he saw the moss decorating the base of the old tree stump that stood next to him. The full moon, Bellatrix dragging him through moist leaves on the floor of the forest, the ropes and…
No, he wouldn't think of the werewolf; wouldn't think of the bruises and scratches around his waist or the welts around his arms and legs. No, no … he wouldn't, couldn't, think about the rape … and yet he found it impossible to not think of it, to forget the bloody tears in his arse from where the long, thin prick of the werewolf had violated it. Gods, there was something sticky gluing together the cheeks of his arse, coating the back of his thighs.
Fighting the inner chill that made the goose bumps rise on his skin, Harry drew his limbs together. He had to get out of there, out of the forest. Using the tree stump to steady himself, he managed to get to his feet, legs threatening to give way at any moment.
"Going somewhere, Potter?"
Fear sliced through Harry, making him jump and freeze, a startled deer in the headlights of death. Fenrir Greyback was leaning against a tree further away beyond the stump. He was in human form, but naked as the day he was born and filthy like an animal. A feral grin showed off his yellow teeth.
With a sob, Harry turned away. It was the only thing he could do to save himself from the view of that bloodstained prick. Harry's blood.
"What do you want from me?"
"Nothing." Fenrir stepped into view, still smiling. "I already got what I wanted."
"Then why are you here? Why am I alive?"
Fenrir laughed, a harsh, rasping laugh that sounded more like a bark than anything else. He eyed Harry up and down, green eyes glinting with satisfaction. One of his hands slithered over his hairy abdomen to cup his balls; he stroked himself while observing Harry. "We're waiting."
"For what?" Harry felt the hysteria rising. He wanted to be far, far away from Fenrir. He also didn't want to wait passively for the Dark Lord to come and kill him.
"For me."
Harry and Fenrir both swung around in surprise. Lucius Malfoy seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He must have Apparated into the clearing. He stroked the silver viper head adorning the top of his cane and surveyed Harry and Fenrir with undisguised disgust.
"And here I am, so come on now." Lucius beckoned.
Harry stared from Lucius to Fenrir. He was too shaky to take even a single step on his own, however. Naked and bruised, he felt caught between two different levels of hell.
A snidely snapped, "Accio Harry Potter!" ended Harry's hesitation. He found himself flying through the air, and then he landed with a thud at Malfoy's feet.
Harry had all of three seconds to try and roll onto into his back to see what Lucius was doing before he felt the nauseating tug of a Portkey anchoring his belly and dragging him away from the scene of his violation, away from Fenrir.
***
To Be Continued...