CHAPTER FIVE: The White Wolf
Harry slipped into Remus’s classroom after the last student filed out for the day, hands tapping mindlessly on each desk as he passed them and approached his professor. Remus had his head down, fiddling with some paperwork to finish, so Harry waited patiently, staring out the window at the snow covering the ground outside. Sirius was hidden away somewhere out there, although the man came by, time to time, to visit in the Shrieking Shack and spend nights with them.
“What did you want, pup?” Remus asked gruffly. Beaming, Harry turned to reveal his bloodied face and bruised cheekbone, eyes falling onto Remus’s exasperated expression. “Tell me he at least looks worse?”
Harry nodded, wincing slightly as it pulled at a sore cut. He licked his lips, tasting blood, eyes taking in Remus’s mussed hair and rumpled shirt, as if the man just couldn’t go the day without lounging and stretching, and doing things to Harry that made him even more rumpled looking. Which Harry was really hoping for because he was aching after fighting with Draco Malfoy, and since Remus had not approved of anyone to touch Harry, the werewolf was currently his only option with Sirius out.
Remus had also been very resistant lately, somewhat uncomfortable with Sirius not around to join in. It had been way too long and Harry was taking greater risks, trying to get what he needed. Sirius had warned him that Remus might slip into halfblood, muggle, backwards nonsense, but Harry hadn’t really understood what that meant until Remus had stopped filling him.
“Tell me what happened,” Remus ordered in his quiet way, waiting for Harry to step up to his desk across from him so he could view the damage.
“Oh, you know, he was cracking something about mudbloods again… Fuck, Remus, he really has such a nasty mouth,” Harry said hungrily, leaning in to let large fingers touch the cut on his lip, and then the bruise on his cheek.
“That may be extremely accurate, Harry, but until you can prove to me that you can keep him in his place, you know I can’t let you near him. You are of my pack, and even the way you are, you need to reflect the right level of intimidation to those outside the pack.”
Harry whined, eyes closing into the touch. “It’s so fucking hard, Remus, so fucking hard to not want him to say such fucked up things to me. I want him to do things to me… oh, the things you and Siri do… but with his nasty mouth.”
Remus sighed, caressing the boy’s cheek, watching his dark eyelashes sweep over his pale skin. Harry had gotten stronger since joining Remus’s pack and magic. Stronger physically and emotionally. He could transform now, nearly with pure ease into the young, spitfire of a chocolate dog that happily chased Padfoot around in the forest, cheering and grounding the older dog so much that Sirius seemed himself again. Harry was waking them both up, erasing a lot of the damp and ice from the last years. But the boy was still a handful, all said and done.
They were glad that Harry was better, seemingly happy to have the two men in his life, and learning to accept the ache that had consumed his existence since it woke up. Remus suspected something was still wrong with the boy, Harry prone to dark, angry moods, and spending a lot of time alone. He had stopped talking to his old friends all together and seemed to have little interest in making new ones.
Harry was just too different now, had always been, but now he couldn’t deny it anymore. It was too difficult to be around others that expected him to be something he was not, instead of accepting him for how he was. Which was likely why Harry had become drawn to the the obnoxious, rabid toothed Malfoy who had never seen Harry the way everyone else did.
Sirius was just as pissed as Remus was that Harry had fixated on the Slytherin menace. Of all the people to have a crush on, Draco Malfoy was not the boy. He was an arrogant, conniving, piece of shit death eater in training with parents, amazingly enough, even worse. The only good thing about him was his absolute terror of Remus. Terror Remus had started to treasure after realizing the way Harry was fucking determined to get the vicious prat into his hole.
Harry suspected that Malfoy had a canine in there under it all, and Remus thought Harry was probably right, if only because his ache had yet to be wrong. It still didn’t mean he wanted the arrogant sod touching Harry, never mind had any interest in him as a packmate.
“Remus, he fucking touched me today,” Harry whispered breathlessly, eyes half open to stare at the brooding man. “Right after I finally let him up—I think I might have broken his finger.”
Remus smiled at that, pulling out his wand to heal the wounds on Harry’s face, leaving the cut on his lip because the boy loved how those hurt so good. “How did he touch you?”
“Pushed me up against the wall with his hands and body… called me a filthy whore halfblood mutt…” Harry was trembling, lips parted to pant. “Said… fuck… said someone should show me how purebloods took care of things proper… And I… I couldn’t help myself, Remus—I tried, I really, really did,” Harry whimpered anxiously, eyes sliding away as Remus growled and pulled his face up to meet him again.
“What did you do, pup?” So help Draco Malfoy if he touched Harry—even if Harry could convince a damn stone to fuck him raw on its own accord. Harry bit his lip, tongue flicking out to lick over the cut there. “Harry, tell me.”
“God… okay… I’m sorry, I… I made that noise you told me not to make around other people,” Harry whispered, scratching his messy locks worriedly.
“The moaning one?” Remus asked, voice gone flat, eyes hard with rage. “Which one?”
Harry bit his lip harder, eyes staring at the desk. “The loud one… the long loud one when you’re usually, oh, pushing in so hard…”
“Fuck,” Remus snapped, grabbing Harry by the back of his neck and holding him still as the boy insisted on swaying. “What did he do? Was there anyone else there? Did anyone figure out what you wanted?”
Harry smiled again, panting heavier. “No one else… just him… and me…”
“I told you not to be alone with him, Potter,” Remus growled, infuriated when Harry continued his secret smile.
“No, he followed me.” Harry said. “And I beat him up, again, like you said. And he pushed me up against the wall and said terrible, nasty things to me. Fuck… and then I made the noise… that noise you and Siri like so much. And he—he kissed me!” Triumphant, Harry beamed again while Remus snarled.
Sirius was going to murder the little Slytherin prick, and Remus was going to fucking help.
Glaring, he pulled Harry across the large desk, pushing his head down into the hard wood and grinding his face. He bent down, listening to Harry gasp with head turning so he could breathe easier. “How did he kiss you?”
Harry pouted, eyes meeting Remus’s angry ones. “He was… rather dull about it, actually,” Harry admitted with a sigh, thinking back to the incident.
“Sweet… too soft… Like I was a girl, or something.”
Remus blinked, letting Harry up and sitting down in his chair. Harry didn’t move for a moment, then turned his head so he could watch Remus from his prone position on the desk, tongue again licking out to run across the cut on his lip. The boy really was getting better, more in control, although still hornier than sin.
“Pup… do you think the little git might like you?”
Harry shrugged awkwardly, not having given it much thought. He knew what he wanted from Malfoy, but hadn’t thought much what the boy might want from him beyond stopping the ache. “I dunno… Does it really matter?”
Remus shook his head, forever shocked by just how messed up the little pup was when it came to emotions. Sirius had his many excuses, but hell, Harry was still so young. His muggle family had really messed the boy up. “You tell me.”
Harry groaned, head thudding back down on the desk. “I don’t care… Just fucking need, and not in a soft, sweet way. It’s been so long… Remi, are you going to—?”
“No,” Remus growled, meeting the frustrated face turned his way again. “I told you to stay away from him. I told you to never be alone with him.”
Harry groaned again, his hands coming to his face, pulling at his hair, and licking at his fingers and palms in a desperate way. “Fuck… damn it… why do I tell you the truth if you’re just going to punish me for it every time?” He whimpered in anguish. “It’s been way too long… fucking need it…”
“Because you need to remind me of all the fucking bad things you do, Harry, or I might think you’re a good boy,” Remus said softly, watching the boy moan and arch at the answer.
Raising his hand, Remus summoned an owl, scrawling a note and sending it off while Harry sulked agitatedly, lying half on the desk, knees hovering off the floor while his sneakers curled toes on the ground. Remus tangled fingers in the boy’s dark brown hair, combing soothingly, bringing Harry back to some sort of calm semblance beyond just pure ache, like he had been teaching him.