Chapter 20 - No More Trees
Daily Prophet Edition: 12th December 1995Harry Potter: Back from the Dead?Many members of the Wizarding public were shocked yesterday while visiting the well-known shopping location of Diagon Alley. When they headed out, intending to make their purchases, little did they know what a curious moment they were to be witnesses to.Harry Potter, who was, by all accounts, reported as deceased since Halloween night some fourteen years ago, was sighted shopping in Diagon Alley on 11th December accompanied by several persons unknown. During his time there he was seen to be in verbal conflict with several of the Wizarding world’s social elite, including Lucius Malfoy and, though we are uncertain as to the nature of their contention, it makes us wonder if some individuals were already privy to the knowledge of the Potter boy’s survival.Harry Potter will of course be familiar name to many of you, given that deaths of the Potter family fell upon the same eventful night that the Longbottom family's fates were sealed, and You-Know-Who was first defeated. Whether the deaths of Harry Potter’s parents, James and Lily Potter, were equally exaggerated has yet to have been established, but the boy was heard to be yelling insistently that he was to be known as Prince rather than Potter. This has led us, here at the Daily Prophet, and of course the public, to ask some pertinent questions regarding the boy’s upbringing.Why it is that he is not using his true birth name? Where has he been? Why was his death falsely reported? And even; why the boy, thus far, has failed to attend Hogwarts? These are questions that we would all like to know the answers to.
Our readers may find it particularly curious then, that fifteen year old Harry Potter, or Harry Prince as he wishes to be called, was seen to be buying Hogwarts school robes and supplies. A shop assistant, who requested to remain unidentified, informed our investigative reporters that Harry, along with two other teenagers who were in the shopping street with him, would start attendance at the highly respected school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts, as of the New Year.
Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the Hogwarts and the man who informed the world of the tragic death of the Potters on the 31st October 1981, the same night that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fell from power, certainly has a lot to answer for. We, here at the Daily Prophet, are certainly looking forward to hearing what he had to say on the matter.
FGHP
Needless to say, when Harry woke up, he was pissed. He had quite clearly said that Fenrir was not to touch him. To wake up only to find the Alpha fast asleep with his arms wrapped around him had severely annoyed Harry. If it hadn’t have been for Micha then he would have stormed off again, perhaps retreated back to the top of the tree to teach the Alpha a lesson but Micha came first.
It was lucky, therefore, that Micha was already awake. They nuzzled into each other without a word before Harry motioned for them to get up, a finger to his lips, indicating to remain quiet. Carefully, and with delicate, well thought out movements, the two of them disentangled themselves from the puppy pile created by the Alpha and Beta wolf around them.
Turning to look at Fenrir and Damon he realised that in his and Micha’s absence they had got a little closer to one another. Withdrawing his wand Harry gave it a complicated wiggle and something flashed. The photograph would be perfect for blackmailing the Alpha with later; he and Damon did look so cosy together.
Micha had given Harry a questioning look at this. As the picture had appeared in Harry’s hand, the pup showed his fellow submissive what he had done and they both giggled. Hand in hand the two of them retreated down to the stream; it wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong, the Alpha’s orders had been to not go anywhere alone and they weren’t.
Neither of them could stomach remaining in the clearing; the stench of blood was still thick and heavy in the air because no one had bothered to clean up the tree where Harlan had been bound the night before. Traces of the horrific torture, that had taken place there, were all over the ground and the tree trunk. Micha was still fragile and Harry didn’t want to risk him seeing that.
It had pained the pup to see the jacket he had bought for Fenrir still discarded where it had been dropped in their argument. His eyes stung with tears at the memory of it. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if he would still have a place in the pack now that their relationship was over. He was determined that it was over, after what the Alpha had said to him in front of the others; he wouldn’t have things like that used as a weapon against him.
It felt sad as the two of them settled on the bank of the stream together, both having lost their mates but in different ways, clinging to each other for support. When Harry had led them in this direction it hadn’t been to wash, though they could have both done with it; it had been for the peace and the space away from the blood soaked clearing.
Here it was almost tranquil, with the sound of the water flowing past them and the smells of the forest overwhelming that of the blood. Micha, despite being the older and bigger of the two, curled up against Harry, his head in the pup’s lap where his hair was stroked with delicate fingers. Their pain was left unspoken, a mutual understanding that they both felt that way. The two of them didn’t seem to need words to comfort each other with, it was enough to just sit together in silence; though they both knew that it couldn’t last. As soon as the others awoke, someone would come looking for them and their sanctuary would be destroyed.
When that did happen, Harry was at least glad that it wasn’t the Alpha who had come to find them. Lukas spotted the pair and after giving them a small smile and a nod, left them alone. He too understood that they needed the time. However, not even Lukas could stop Fenrir.
The brash, brute of an Alpha male came storming down to the stream not five minutes after Lukas had found them, he was sporting a look of annoyance on his handsome face. There was frustration rather than fury in his golden orbs today but Harry couldn’t bring himself to even try to care what mood the Alpha was in. He wanted to think that he felt nothing for the older man but his heart ached the moment that he laid eyes on him.
There was still a pull that he felt towards Fenrir, the undeniable attraction but he quickly squashed it down because he couldn’t... wouldn’t feel that way about the Alpha. The man was a savage degenerate and a chauvinistic arse for what he had had the gall to say yesterday; it wasn’t going to be easily forgiven if he could even forgive him at all.
“Clearing,” Fenrir said, keeping his voice calm and even, however there was no denying the tone of authority that he still held. It was an order, not a request. Micha instantly moved to obey, turning to look back at Harry who hadn’t budged, even after the given command. “Go Micha, Damon is waiting for you.”
Harry gave a small nod to Micha who had once again hesitated when Harry didn’t get up to follow him. Fenrir was almost glad that Harry was disobeying the order, it meant that they would have the opportunity to talk more privately. Though it irked him a little that Micha looked to Harry before doing what he was told.
“Little one…”
“Don’t,” Harry said quietly, he didn’t want to be called cute nicknames, which he’d never admit to actually liking when they came from the Alpha; he wanted to hate the man, however hard that was to do.
“We should talk,” Fenrir grunted, standing well back from Harry, observing his little mate’s mood to be a tad hostile.
“There is nothing to talk about,” Harry said adamantly, curling himself up into a ball and resting his head upon his knees. It seemed to be the position he found the most comfort in; he felt safe, protected.
“Little one…” Fenrir said with surprising softness, not liking the way Harry seemed to be hiding away from the world; that had never ended well in his experience.
“I said don’t,” Harry snapped, turning to glare up at the Alpha. “I made it very clear I didn’t want you to touch me and you didn’t listen; you slept next to me!”
“See, we do have things to talk about,” the Alpha said trying not to be too smug as he said this. Harry sent him a death glare that Fenrir had to stop himself from laughing at; it was just so sweet, considering Harry looked less like a dangerous werewolf and more like a puppy that had been kicked.
“Just leave me alone, Fenrir,” Harry stated flatly; really wishing that the Alpha would just get the message that he didn’t want anything to do with him at the moment.
“You’re my mate, little one,” Fenrir told him, taking a few steps towards him with a confused frown, “of course I’m going to sleep next to you.
“We’re not mates, not anymore, not after…” Harry couldn’t bring himself to put it into words; besides if Fenrir didn’t know what had torn their relationship to pieces, he sure as hell wasn’t going to waste his time trying to enlighten him. “We’re just not,” he finished bluntly.
“Yes we are,” Fenrir said adamantly; not understanding why Harry thought he could just declare such a thing. They had always been mates, they always would be; it wasn’t something you could just decide to deny because you felt like it.
“No, we aren’t,” Harry insisted; no matter how many times Fenrir repeated that they were, he wasn’t going to change who he was for anyone, certainly not someone who apparently had no respect for his choices or freedom. Not for someone who would share such private details of their life together in such a humiliating way. “I trusted you,” he told the Alpha, meeting his eyes and hoping that even a seemingly heartless bastard like him could see the betrayal he was sure was there. “I’ve never… not with anyone and you… you threw it in my face like it was nothing.”
“We both said things we shouldn’t have,” Fenrir said, taking a seat next to Harry. He really did regret that his words had caused his little mate so much pain, which had not been his intention; he had been thrown by Harry’s reckless behaviour. He could admit to himself that he had been scared for him, and things had just spiralled out of control.
“Are you actually going to admit that you did something wrong?” Harry asked with surprise. “That would be a first, I didn’t think your ego would let you!”
“I didn’t come here to fight, little one,” the Alpha stated firmly; he knew that Harry was trying to lighten the mood, change the subject, but he would not let himself be distracted so easily. Nor would he rise to the bait; losing his temper with Harry again would solve nothing and certainly not be worth it over Harry’s usual cheeky attitude.
“Then why did you come? Did you think that all would be forgiven, that we could just go back to how we were?” Harry asked, genuinely curious if the Alpha thought that it would be that easy to just fix things.
“I would never expect anything to be that simple with you, little one,” Fenrir said, looking at Harry pointedly. Certainly nothing about their relationship had been simple so far. Nothing had gone according to plan.
“Stop calling me that!” Harry snapped at him in irritation, the nickname had always endeared Fenrir to him, he didn’t want to be endeared to the Alpha right now, he wanted to keep hold of his righteous anger.
“Why?” Fenrir asked with a scowl; Harry had never objected to the name before and he couldn’t understand why he was starting to object to it now.
“Because…” Harry didn’t even know where to start in explaining it to the older werewolf; Fenrir would probably not really understand the reason for his objection anyway and it seemed pointless to even try; they would just end up fighting again in all likelihood. “Just don’t…” he finished a bit snappishly.
Despite his confusion on the matter, Fenrir supposed he could allow Harry this one thing; he could budge on the nickname at least for the moment but there were something’s that he wasn’t going to be swayed on. “Harry…” he said, to show willing.
“ARG!” Harry yelled as he tugged at his hair in frustration. How was it that the sound of his name was even worse than the cute nickname? The Alpha stared at him in confusion, completely baffled about why his compliance with Harry’s request had prompted such a reaction. “Fine, call me whatever you like. Still isn’t going to change my mind.”
“Change your mind about what, little one?” He really had wanted to speak with his little mate but he was starting to feel more than a little frustrated with Harry’s attitude and cryptic words.
“I don’t want to be with you anymore…” Harry said, his voice strong and determined, despite the way his whole body trembled as the words felt like they were breaking his heart all over again.
Fenrir couldn’t help but think that he should be careful what he wished for; that was about as blunt as Harry could be and it was the last thing he wanted to hear. He had known that there would be consequences for the way they had argued but this felt like an overreaction. “Don’t say that, Harry,” Fenrir said gently, being very careful about the tone he spoke with, not wanting to upset the situation any further.
“I mean it, Fen,” Harry insisted, trying to convince himself as much as the Alpha; he had made up his mind but he had no delusions about it being easy to stick to. “I just… can’t.”
Fenrir braced himself, knowing that he would have to explain why Harry's disappearing act in Diagon Alley had angered him so much; Harry needed to know because it was likely the only way that they would be able to move past this. “You need to understand that when you put yourself in danger, stupidly and for no apparent reason-”
“I had a reason!” Harry said stubbornly. It hurt that his motivations had been discarded so easily, particularly by the man that he had been trying to do something nice for.
“I know but you didn’t exactly spell that out to us, little one,” he pointed out. When Harry and Clay had run off, Damon had been left with no idea where they were or what they were doing. To hear that his little mate had deliberately put himself in a situation where he had been almost completely unprotected for more than an hour, scared him, like nothing else could. “When you disappear like that, when there are so many people after you, it worries all of us.”
“Heaven forbid you admit to being worried yourself there, Alpha,” Harry told him. He could hear in his voice that Fenrir had genuinely been concerned, but he was tired of having to read that in the subtext, having to reach those conclusions for himself. For once he really wanted him to just admit how he felt, but that wasn’t the Alpha’s way and he supposed that just like he refused to change for Fenrir, he couldn’t ask Fenrir to change for him.
Fenrir gave Harry a pointed look, not really in the mood to put up with any cheek, “We do what we do to protect you, little one,” he tried to explain; how did Harry not understand that yet?
“You treat me like a child!” Harry said, hating how petulant the words sounded as they left his mouth but he stood by them.
“That is because you are still a child. Merlin, you’ve been summoned to that damn school because you’re still underage and have no legal guardian,” the Alpha pointed out; though he could admit to himself, at least, that he had no intention of being any less protective of Harry when he was a hundred years old, than while he was fifteen. It seemed likely that pointing that out might not earn him any favour with his stubborn little mate at the moment though. “If something happened and you were taken,” he said, voicing his worst fear, “we, as a pack, would have no claim to you. But I don’t see you as a child.”
“You… you don’t?” Harry asked, genuinely surprised by that revelation. He had always been protected by his father, or later Damon, and that had been because of his youth, his young age meaning he had to be kept safe; he had been able to accept that even if it had felt suffocating at times. And then there was Fenrir; Harry had been brought to the territory with no explanation of what was to come, or why, and then been protected again. It hadn’t occurred to him that reason behind it might have a different basis.
“I wouldn’t have done half of the things we’ve done if I did, little one,” Fenrir assured him.
Harry could see that, and he had never felt as though Fenrir saw him as a child while they had been frotting against one another, but to hear it put into words helped him understand a little better, even if not completely. “I can take care of myself, you know,” he insisted because that still didn’t mean he was any happier about being coddled. “And I had Clay with me, I didn’t go off on my own and we left a note,” he pointed out. “I just wanted to do something nice for him, and for you,” Harry added, still definitely hurt that the Alpha didn’t seem to care about his reasons.
“Will you tell me where you went now?” Fenrir asked, and it was with great care that he made it a request not an order, hoping that might incline Harry to actually talk about it. He was starting to realise that he would probably never be able to give Harry orders the way he could the others; certainly not if he actually wanted them obeyed. “The truth if it isn’t too much trouble,” he added a little testily, when Harry was not forthcoming; he was prepared to ask rather than order, at least this once, but that didn’t mean he was feeling any more patient or accepting of Harry’s secretiveness.
“Will you tell me what you know about my Dad and the reason you bit me?” Harry tried to bargain. He would consider being honest about it, but only for a price; he wasn’t just going to fold because the Alpha had actually managed to ask rather than demand an answer for once.
Fenrir sighed, “Not today…”
“Then my answer is the same,” Harry told him stubbornly, turning to look away from the Alpha, his eyes focused on the running water of the nearby stream. “Not today,” he echoed.
“Harry…” Fenrir growled warningly. He had asked and that was what Harry wanted, not to be ordered around; he couldn’t understand why Harry was still refusing to tell him the truth.
“What?” Harry asked with mock innocence. The Alpha might not understand him yet, but he sure was starting to be able to understand Fenrir. The older werewolf had just expected him to tell him everything, if he asked nicely; and it hadn’t even been that nicely, in Harry’s opinion. “If you’re going to keep secrets then so am I,” he told him matter-of-factly.
“Fine, my stubborn little mate,” Fenrir conceded reluctantly, accepting that he wasn’t going to be getting anymore explanation out of Harry for the moment. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Depends what it is,” Harry said noncommittally, not willing to agree to anything unless it was made very clear what it was, “and I’m not your mate,” he added.
“No more scaling trees and yes you are,” the Alpha told him firmly.
“You can’t just say that we’re together,” Harry argued back, looking at Fenrir with narrowed eyes “it doesn’t work like that!”
“Why not? You just decided we weren’t,” Fenrir questioned impatiently, he was half sure Harry was making up most of these rules of his as he went along.
“Because you were a fucking dick!” Harry yelled angrily, suddenly unfurling his body, freeing his arms to give Fenrir a shove before he got to his feet, not wanting to stay sat next to the impossible man a moment longer.
“Language!” Fenrir chastised, ignoring the way that Harry was hitting out at him again, as he got to his own feet. “I’ll only have you talking like that when we’re-”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Fenrir!” Harry interrupted, storming back towards the Alpha again; his intention to get away from him all but forgotten.
“Would it help if I apologised for what I said that hurt you,” Fenrir asked, remembering how pleased Harry had been with that in the past, but he sure wasn’t about to admit that he regretted some of the things he had said if Harry was going to remain angry at him anyway. “You seem to appreciate it when I apologise,” he added as he took in Harry’s incredulous expression.
“I only appreciate it when you apologise, if you mean it,” Harry told him, somewhat exasperated that such a thing needed explaining. “Would you mean it if you said it?” he asked almost hopefully.
“Mostly,” the Alpha said honestly.
“Then don’t say it,” Harry told him, turning around and starting to walk away again, “I only want to hear it if you mean it.”
“I want to fix things between us,” Fenrir said catching up with him in several large strides, halting him with an arm around his waist.
“It’s not that easy,” Harry said, turning in his arms, and shoving the Alpha away from him, surprised when Fenrir released his grip without complaint. He definitely wasn’t ready to be held by the man any time soon.
“It should be,” Fenrir said insistently, frustrated that Harry was being so stubborn. Everything he had done in the last fourteen years had been to create a place for them in the world, he certainly wasn’t about to give up just because Harry’s temper could match his own.
“Well it isn’t, deal with it,” Harry said before turning and starting back towards the clearing; he was done talking this over if Fenrir wasn’t actually going to really listen to what he had to say.
“You don’t plan on running away again do you?” the Alpha questioned. He could deal with Harry being angry with him, but if he made a run for it again, or actually left… well Fenrir wouldn’t let that happen.
Harry paused in his tracks; he could hear the fear in the Alpha’s voice even if Fenrir hadn’t intended it to be there. “No…” he said softly, “this place is my home and I wouldn’t leave Micha.”
“You two seem very… close,” Fenrir said, the last word coming out as more of a growl of disapproval. It had taken a lot of restraint to have not ripped Micha’s hands from Harry’s body the evening before and he had no intention of allowing it again, no matter how much Damon thought that Harry and Micha needed each other, or whatever the reason he had given for it was.
Harry turned to look over his shoulder with a smirk, “Are you jealous?”
“If I say yes will you forgive me?” Fenrir said rather sulkily, his arms crossed over his chest defensively.
“Not at all,” Harry said, completely turning to face him; even managing a small smile at the ridiculous sight of the big brute of an Alpha looking like he was resisting the urge to have a temper tantrum.
This was the man he wanted, the one who made him smile, but it wasn’t enough; he couldn’t just have this Fenrir; the bad traits were as much part of the man as these moments were and Harry wasn’t stupid enough to think he could pick and choose. He had to accept Fenrir for all his faults or walk away from it all; the way the Alpha had spoken to him the day before had made up his mind on which it would be.
“Then I’ll admit to nothing,” Fenrir said and Harry rolled his eyes, at the Alpha’s inability to admit to feeling just about anything other than pissed off and defensive.
The Alpha stepped towards him again and raised his hand to run it through Harry’s hair, but Harry stepped back. “I still don’t think… I don’t want you to touch me,” he tried to explain.
Fenrir definitely didn’t look happy about that, but he was hardly going to force his little mate on the issue, that would get them nowhere. He wanted to fix things so that Harry would want his touch again, he wouldn’t force it on his little mate, that wasn’t who he was. “As long as you sleep next to me,” he compromised, “I will respect your boundaries, for now, just no more running, no more disappearing and no more trees.”
Harry frowned. He wasn’t about to agree to sleeping next to Fenrir; though he suspected that the Alpha would just wait until he was asleep if he had to do so to make that happen. At least the larger werewolf had given him his word that he would give him space, that was about as good as Harry felt he could hope for.
“I kind of liked the tree,” Harry said, giving Fenrir a small cheeky smile; he hadn’t really gone up that tree to worry anyone, he had just needed the space, had needed to be out of their reach.
“No more trees,” Fenrir said insistently with a scowl at Harry’s apparent humour about that part of the situation.
“It was kind of peaceful up there,” the younger werewolf explained. He had a soft smile on his face, knowing that his casual attitude was probably going to grate on the Alpha, but he rather liked getting a reaction from him.
“No. More. Trees,” Fenrir repeated, emphasising every word as he spoke through gritted teeth as he held back his anger at the idea of Harry wanting to go back up the tree again.
“Okay, okay,” Harry said, shaking his head and holding up his hand in surrender. “I get it, no more trees.”
“Come back to the clearing, breakfast will be almost ready,” Fenrir ordered, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Harry had definitely conceded, on that, far too easily; he was certain that his little mate would attempt to return to that tree at some point just to test his limited patience.
“Do I have a choice?” Harry asked, crossing his arms and meeting Fenrir’s eyes.
“I don’t control you remember, little one,” the Alpha said with a sigh as he walked passed Harry, respecting his promise to not touch his mate, despite the urge to put a hand on his back and lead him towards the clearing. “You made that very clear yesterday,” he reminded.
“Well at least you admit that now,” Harry said, and he was wearing a smug smile as he kept pace with Fenrir, even if he did make sure to keep more than an arm’s length between them.
FGHP
Micha walked slowly and hesitantly back into the clearing, having left Harry with the Alpha back at the stream. He didn’t want to be reminded of what had happened there but the smell of blood was starting to lessen and the mess had been somewhat cleaned up in the time that he and Harry had been absent. True to Fenrir’s word, Damon was waiting for him, which Micha wasn’t sure he entirely appreciated.
“How are you feeling?” Damon asked with concern, going to touch Micha, to cup his cheek and look him in the eye, but the younger werewolf shied away from the touch before it could be given.
“I’m fine,” Micha lied; he didn’t feel comfortable around the dominant males right now, especially not Damon, not after the Beta’s part in what had happened. Micha wanted to be close to Harry, but he seeing as he was otherwise occupied, Micha would sit and wait for him.
“Would you like breakfast, tea, coffee?” Damon asked as he followed Micha over towards the fire, trying not to feel a little hurt at the rejection.
“Stop!” Micha said, trying to sound fierce but knowing that he had failed miserably, “I don’t need to be mollycoddled!”
Damon took a deep breath; he hadn’t been expecting for Micha to be so hostile towards him. “Okay…” he said tentatively trying to respect that. “You need to let Callie check you over, after what… he said he did to you, I think you should let her look and make sure no permanent damage was done.”
Micha turned to face the Beta wolf, glaring at him with hatred and pain in his intensely purple eyes, “Don’t you think I’ve been humiliated enough?” he demanded.
“Micha...please…” Damon said, trying to remain calm but he wanted to know that, after everything that had happened to him, Micha was all right and that he hadn’t been injured too severely.
“No,” Micha said stubbornly. “Leave me alone,” he said, dropping himself close to the fire and curling himself into a position that they had all seen Harry take up when he was feeling particularly vulnerable.
Damon, feeling utterly hopeless, moved to where Callie, Romy and Tessie were preparing breakfast. They were all shocked to discover that Tessie and her cousin, Aiden, had been the ones who often took charge of preparing the food in their last pack and, considering that they only had an open fire and no fancy kitchen accessories, she was actually a fairly good cook.
“Don’t worry too much, his reaction is expected after everything that’s happened to him,” Callie said to her brother as Lukas handed him a mug of tea almost as a reflex action.
“I know,” Damon sighed, “I just… I need to know that he’s okay.” He had to be careful, the Alpha might have figured him out but he didn’t want to all of the others to know where his heart lay.
“It isn’t about what you need, Damon,” Callie reminded him softly. “It’s about what Micha needs and I think he needs Harry right now.”
“I don’t get why he chose Harry,” Damon said, trying to keep all the irrational bitterness from his voice. ”Out of everyone that he could have related to, he picked Harry.”
“Because they’ve both lost someone they cared for recently and they’re both submissive wolves, they have a lot in common,” Lukas said as he prepared another mug of tea, this one for Micha. “Not to mention that I bet that Harry is a lot less threatening that the rest of us big scary dominant werewolves,” he added, his tone joking, even if his words had an element of truth.
“Where is Harry?” Jenson asked, looking around the clearing for him and even checking up in the tree, just in case; they wouldn’t make that oversight again.
“He’s with the Alpha,” Lukas assured them all, “down by the stream. I’d give them some time.”
“After their row yesterday, they’ll need more than time,” Clayton said as he poured himself a mug of coffee, much to the disparaging look he received from Romy.
“Which you were partly responsible for,” Damon reminded him, none too softly, “so I wouldn’t be shooting your mouth off too much today.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Clayton mumbled, lowering his head as he commenced spooning three large mounds of sugar into his coffee.
“Lay off the sugar, Clay,” Romy hissed, “You’re hyper enough naturally already.”
Lukas grinned at the two pups as they started their morning banter; it was becoming something of a morning routine for the pair. He headed over towards where Micha was sitting, eyeing his defensive posture and feeling a fresh wave of sympathy for him. Micha had placed himself slightly apart from the others, he would have easily been able to hear what they were saying but he seemed not to care, or else just preferred to simply ignore them all; intent on zoning out as he stared into the embers of the fire.
“Here you go,” he said, offering the mug to Micha, “You look like you could use something hot to drink.”
“Thank you,” Micha managed to say, though his voice was weak as he accepted the mug.
“Would you like some breakfast?” Lukas asked him kindly, squatting down so that they were level with one another. “Callie and Tessie are making porridge.”
“No, thank you,” Micha replied, he couldn’t even think about eating anything; even the tea, which was made exactly how he liked it, milky with one sugar, was turning his stomach a little. Anything more solid and he was likely to have it making a reappearance before he could digest it.
“You should try and eat something,” Lukas encouraged gently, “I’ll get Harry to bring it over when he gets back if you like.”
“I’m not hungry,” Micha insisted again.
“Alright,” Lukas said, standing up, “we’re here if you need us,” he told the stubborn wolf before heading back to the others, knowing that he would send Harry over with some breakfast for him regardless. A lot of them had stubborn streaks, but what worried Lukas was that Micha’s seemed to be borne of some terrible mix of self-doubt, heartache and fear; a terrible combination even at the best of times.
“So Damon is your brother, Jenson your mate,” Tessie said conversationally, trying to get the measure of the pack as she stirred the porridge that was starting to thicken, “And Romy your daughter?”
“Yes,” Callie said with a smile, “Clayton is my nephew; the others all just feel like family, we’ve been together a long time.”
“Those two are cousins?” Tessie asked motioning towards the bantering pups with amusement.
“We’ll be more than that if Romy can ever admit she likes me,” Clay said with a grin as Romy smacked him on the arm.
“In your dreams, Clayton,” she retorted, poking out her tongue at him.
“Yes, they are,” Callie said disparagingly, glancing over to where her nephew and daughter were still bickering.
It would be a miracle if those two didn’t end up together one of these days and, though while they were still young it was difficult to be certain, she believed they would be good for each other; even if Jenson would sooner skin Clay alive than admit that. Her mate was a kind soul really, but he had a fiercely protective streak that knew no reason when it came to their adoptive daughter.
Callie checked the porridge, which seemed to be ready, and so she started to dish it up. “Clayton, Romy,” she said, calling them over, and handing them a bowl each and sending them back to their seats. “Here you go,” she said, handing one to Tessie, but over the newcomer’s shoulder she could see Fenrir and Harry heading back into the clearing. “Damon, Jenson,” she said, with a slight jerk of her head towards the Alpha pair.
“Well they still both have all their limbs,” Jenson observed as he spotted what his mate had gestured at, “and neither of them appear to be injured in anyway.”
“I guess it went well then,” Damon joked, but he was honestly glad to see that Harry was at least returning to the clearing of his own accord and Fenrir didn’t look too angry from what he could tell.
However, no one needed to vocalise what they all saw; the distance between the Alpha pair was clear to everyone. Harry was stood at least an arm’s length from Fenrir and the Alpha himself had stuffed his large hands into the pockets of his jeans as if it were an effort not to reach out and touch him.
Harry headed directly to the fire where Callie was still handing out bowls of porridge, accepting one gratefully. “Can you take one to Micha please,” Lukas asked him and of course Harry nodded. Fenrir on the other hand was scowling; he didn’t want his little mate to be given any more excuses to spend time exclusively with Micha.
Taking the two bowls with him, and not even casting a sideways glance at the Alpha wolf, Harry went and dumped himself next to Micha, sitting so close together that they were bumping shoulders. He knew, without looking, that the Alpha would be all tensed up but Harry didn’t care. Fenrir wouldn’t say anything, Harry knew that, but the pup was more than willing to push the boundaries.
“You want to eat?” Harry asked, understanding why Lukas might have asked him to be the one to bring the food over. As expected Micha just shook his head. It was a feeling that Harry could relate to, the hollow emptiness that grew inside you, he had felt it when Fenrir had lain unconscious for all those days but the Alpha hadn’t been dead, Harlan was. He knew that whatever Micha was feeling it had to be a lot worse.
“Are you and the Alpha okay?” Micha asked quietly as he snuggled into Harry, linking their arms as he did so, a gesture that Harry allowed, even as he tried to eat, something that was made a little more complicated in their positions.
“I don’t know,” Harry said honestly; he had a lot to think about after their conversation down by the stream. Harry wasn’t sure that he wanted to be with him but it had seemed that Fenrir was determined to keep their relationship, such as it was, going. Stubbornness was a trait that they both had and when they both were determined to achieve different things it made life difficult. One of them would have to cave eventually though.
“Does he… did he ever… hurt you?” Micha asked, struggling to find the words.
“With the things he says… yes,” Harry admitted. “But he’s never physically, not on purpose.” Harry hesitated, knowing that he needed to ask the question but didn't want for the others to overhear them. “Did Harlan ever… hurt you?” Harry asked, keeping his voice low. Then Harry saw the answer that he feared when Micha nodded sadly.
Harry discarded the bowls of porridge immediately. Any thoughts of making Micha eat something were forgotten and Harry thought that perhaps it was better that he didn’t have much in his stomach for the conversation that they were about to have. Casting a wary glance over to where the others were all sitting and chatting while they ate, Harry took Micha by the hand and stood them both up.
“Come with me,” Harry said, aware that they couldn’t leave the clearing, not without being followed, which would defeat the whole point; however, Harry intended to at least move away from the others so that they could have a little more privacy.
Moving across the clearing, to the furthest point possible without the risk of being followed, the two submissive wolves took a seat together. All eyes of the pack were on them but no one followed. They had left their meals and even their mugs of tea behind but neither would be of any help to them while they talked this out.
“No pressure, but will you tell me what he did to you?” Harry asked gently, taking Micha’s hand within his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to but I’d like to know.”
“I don’t… you’re so young… I couldn’t…”
“Micha…” Harry said to get the other man’s full attention, only once they were looking at each other did he carry on. “I almost lost Fenrir and it was my fault, I know how it feels.”
“He killed him,” Micha said, tears welling up in his eyes as he said this.
“He had to,” Harry said sadly, thinking about what Fenrir and Damon had done. Harlan had been a spy, passing information on them back to the strays. The things that he had done to Micha alone had justified his death in Harry’s mind but he wasn’t about to say that to Micha.
“Damon didn’t… it should have been Fenrir, not Damon,” Micha said as he allowed the tears to fall. “Why did it have to be him?”
“I don’t know why it had to be him but I’m starting to learn that Fenrir has his reasons for doing what he does. No matter how infuriating it is to the rest of us.”
“No one liked him and I just didn’t listen,” Micha said, his tears coming thick and fast now. There were no strangled sobs this time however, he was able to think and speak clearly but there was no stopping the tears that fell from sad amethyst eyes.
“You can’t…”
“Yes, I can, Harry, I thought that he cared, I let him…” Micha was squeezing Harry’s hand so tightly now that it might have hurt if Harry could feel pain. “It hurt so much when he… when we... we had sex.”
Harry remained quiet, knowing that he needed to let Micha vent in his own time. He remained silent allowing Micha to practically crush his hand. The older of the two had clamped his eyes tightly shut in an attempt to stop the tears and make the pain stop.
“He let the knot form…” Micha said, his voice quiet and pained as he spoke, his eyes scrunched up and the tears still flowing. “Then... after it formed… he... he ripped it out of me.”
Harry couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath that what Micha said caused. He didn’t know much about werewolves but he had had an obsession with the natural world discovery channel when he was ten and had become fascinated with shows about wolves. He wasn’t sure how knotting worked while in human form but he knew the general idea and therefore it made a shudder go through his entire body.
Across the clearing, out of earshot of the two submissive wolves, Fenrir sat glaring at them. He could see that they were holding hands and that grated in him more than he would have liked; however, he appreciated that Harry hadn’t left the clearing. He had heeded the warning that Micha was no threat to his and Harry’s relationship but it still didn’t make him feel any better that he wasn’t allowed to touch his little mate and yet Micha was.
Damon followed the Alpha’s line of sight, sighing. He didn’t like it any more than Fenrir did but he at least understood that Micha needed what he needed. Lukas was right, Harry was the least intimidating of them all, he couldn’t even glare at any one without looking adorably cute. It was understandable that Micha only felt comfortable with him.
“How did your talk with Harry go?” Damon asked, moving a little closer to Fenrir.
“He agreed no more trees,” Fenrir said gruffly, when he thought about it, it felt like that was the only thing he had won on.
“How long do you think that will last?” Damon asked with a sigh; he knew Harry, the young werewolf would not forgive easily, but he knew Fenrir too, and he did not do apologies.
The growl that the Alpha let out then was answer enough, and Damon was somewhat glad that Fenrir hadn’t been foolish enough to think any such rule would actually stick with Harry. But, while he was worried about Harry, and the turn for the worse that the Alpha pair’s relationship had taken, he couldn't shift his mind from Micha; the boy had seemed so angry at him and that hurt.
He really was glad Harlan was dead and gone, simply because it meant no-one was hurting the submissive wolf, but Damon still found it hard that Micha always chose someone else. First Harlan, and now Harry; Damon couldn’t help but wonder what was it about him that kept Micha away.
“You don’t like it either,” Fenrir stated, still watching the obviously emotional conversation that Micha and Harry were having, though he could not hear the words he knew that it was a difficult conversation by the way they were acting. He could just about manage to have the respect for both the submissive wolves that they deserved and stay away so they could talk; as long as they didn’t try to leave the clearing.
“No. No, I don’t,” Damon agreed. “He never chooses me.” As soon as the words had left his mouth he regretted saying them, admitting such a weakness to his Alpha, who was not known for sentimentality wasn’t the wisest thing he had ever done. Neither of them said anything further as Damon got to his feet and wandered off towards his son who was pouring so much sugar on top of his breakfast that the ratio of porridge to sugar was nearing fifty/fifty.
If he didn’t put a stop to it then he knew he’d regret it later and he didn’t want today to be day of regrets. He cast a longing look over to Harry and Micha once more before focusing on getting the sugar away from his son before Romy lost her cool and smacked him… again.
FGHP
Dumbledore was in his office, it was the only room in the castle that seemed to not letting in the hordes of owls who all had letters for him. The short time he had spent in the Great Hall during breakfast had given them enough time to bring him so many howlers that he was certain there would be scorch marks on his robes.
And it was all the blasted Daily Prophets doing; what were they thinking when they directed the questions at him? What gave them the right to meddle in his plans? And now the world knew that Harry Potter was not only alive, but coming to Hogwarts.
A house elf appeared and dropped yet another pile of letters on one of the few remaining spaces left on his desk and it was only because the creature vanished so quickly that it was spared the discomfort of a stinging jinx. He was seriously considering just casting incendio on the entire lot, but it would be unfortunate if he accidentally destroyed something that he actually did need to read.
He looked at the article again, taking in the large picture that took up half the page. It was the first time he had seen Harry, other than the pictures that had been in the Ingleton house. It was still surprising just how much the boy looked like James, and therefore understandable that he had been recognised, but this would not have been how he would have chosen to reveal Harry to the world.
The picture showed, not only Harry but also others gathered around him; it was this that was of interest to him as it was the headmaster’s first look at the other teenage werewolves that would be coming to his school in the New Year. Not to mention the adults as well, who looked to be acting as Harry’s personal guard, which was rather strange. He knew that werewolves protected their pack above all else but they seemed to be treating Harry as if he were… special.
And then there was the concern, of course, that he had met with Malfoy, but at least it seemed they had conflicted with each other; Dumbledore would not lose the boy to Deatheaters now, not after all his work. The Malfoys were definitely a family that he would continue to watch with a close eye; particularly Draco.
That boy was hiding things, Dumbledore was certain of that much, though judging by the state in which he had returned from his trip home that much would be obvious to all. He had long suspected that Voldemort had taken refuge in the homes of one of his more loyal followers but up until now he had never really considered where. He hadn’t seen the point, nothing could be done about him until the Horcruxes were found and destroyed. Now it seemed as if he had almost accidentally stumbled upon where he was hiding.
With Tom staying at Malfoy Manor, as Albus suspected that he was, it would make sense that he would have recruited the youngest Malfoy to the cause. Knowing Tom Riddle as he did, Dumbledore suspected that he had given the boy a mission. And at just fifteen years old, it seemed to have overwhelmed the boy. This was something he might be able to use to his advantage if he managed it correctly. Something he had always been rather good at if he did say so himself.
As for the howlers and other nasty items winging their way to him, they would be dealt with soon enough. He would be thought of as one of the greatest wizards of his time again; he would make sure of that. Granted he had not foreseen the press getting involved when it came to the boy but what was important was that Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts. It would take more than a bit of hate mail to deter him from his good mood on that front.
If he did it right he might even be able to recruit young Mr Malfoy to help keep an eye on Potter. It would certainly help matters if he could. Though the Malfoy boy’s usefulness would only stretch so far. It would all depend on where Harry was sorted, that would be very interesting considering the part of Voldemort inside of him and that he had been raised by Severus. It would be rather convenient to have him separated from his werewolf bodyguards though.
It would certainly be curious to see how Tom responded to the news of Harry’s return to the wizarding world, but Dumbledore hoped that it would not prompt a fresh assault upon the castle. The headmaster had managed to retain full control so far, but he was aware of the control Voldemort had on Hogsmeade, and Dumbledore was hoping he wouldn’t have to spare his limited resources on protecting his stronghold, not when things were just starting to turn in his favour.
FGHP
Gathered at the Slytherin table, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne and Draco were poring over the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. None of them could really comprehend what they were reading; none of them apart from Draco. Ever since he had met Harry Prince in a darkened alley way near the Hog’s Head on Halloween he had started to have doubts about him. Now however, with the evidence thrown in his face like this, it was hard to deny.
Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts.
Of course none of his friends knew about his little trip into the wizarding village all those months ago and therefore they had no clue who he had met. He really didn’t trust any of them enough to divulge such information, though that was potentially the Malfoy genes in him.
“Are you okay, Draco?” Daphne asked, having noticed that he had wandered off into his thoughts and seemed to have become lost there.
“Yeah,” Draco responded, shaking himself out of his thoughts to focus more on the article. “I can’t believe that this Potter guy will be coming here next month.”
“You think it’s true what everyone’s whispering about?” Pansy asked quietly, not wanting even her fellow Slytherin’s to hear, “That he could be the one to kill… the Dark Lord?”
Draco gave her a disparaging look, “Don’t be ridiculous,” he sneered at the girl. “The Dark Lord is far too powerful, what makes you think that a fifteen year old… boy could stop him?”
“We’ve all heard the rumours, Draco,” Blaise said pointedly.
“Rumours, Blaise,” Draco snapped, “nothing but rumours, you really think he can take down the Dark Lord?” Draco said stabbing angrily at the picture with his finger. “I’d be less concerned about Potter and more concerned about those damn Gryffindor’s.”
“Why?” Pansy asked, confused as to why they would have to be worried about them. “They’re no threat to us!”
“You think that a boy coming to Hogwarts and replacing their precious dead Longbottom isn’t going to rile them up? You’re more stupid than you look, Parkinson,” Draco said, sneering at her.
“I’ll watch your back,” Daphne whispered softly to the Malfoy heir, her hand finding his beneath the table and giving it a squeeze. Draco snapped his hand away from her giving her an odd look.
“I can watch my own back thank you, Greengrass,” he said, regretting the sharp tone he had taken with her. They were friends, at least for the most part, but he didn’t want exactly how close they were known to everyone. He wouldn’t have the Carrow siblings exploiting her to get to him.
Draco took another look at the picture, studying the faces; from what Harry had told him in Hogsmeade he could deduce that the other two teenagers would be the other two joining him at the school from his pack. You would have never known to look at the group that they were werewolves. They all appeared to be quite civilised.
He vaguely wondered if his father had known that they were werewolves when he confronted them. He knew that back in the last war he had had associates that were werewolves; one of those associates was even responsible for biting Harry in the first place, according to his mother. Though he did note that the recognisable face of the infamous werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, did not seem to be amongst the group that surrounded Harry in the Prophet.
Voldemort must have been searching for Harry; there was no other reason that his father would have gotten involved. Lucius did nothing unless it benefited him or he was ordered to do it by the Dark Lord. Also, Draco thought, it was fairly amusing that Harry would already distrust Lucius because of what Severus had told him.
He still wasn’t going to put all his faith in the boy though, he still needed to fix that damn cabinet. At least he thought he might have had a breakthrough on that front having found a book that had hinted at a problem with such magical objects that he hadn’t heard of before; he wasn’t exactly optimistic but it was worth some research at the very least.
Not wanting to spend another minute with his supposed friends, who were still debating whether or not it would be beneficial to attempt to make a connection with the Harry Potter boy when he came to the school, he got to his feet. He saw the look Daphne gave him; how she could still smile supportively at him like that, after he had snapped at her, he didn’t know, but he supposed she had always been far too observant.
It made no difference; he actually liked her, as opposed to the others who he was ambivalent about at best, and he wouldn’t put her in harm’s way unless it was absolutely necessary. He headed towards his dormitory, hopefully the Potter debate would keep the others busy long enough that he could undertake his research on the cabinet in peace.
FGHP
“I think you will like today’s headline, Snivellus,” Sirius said smugly as he strolled into the room where Severus was being kept. He had so been looking forward to this; proof that Harry was finally where he belonged and hating Deatheaters like Snape. “It tells us all about how Harry didn’t want anything to do with your Deatheater friends. A confrontation with Lucius Malfoy, it says. All your hard work was for nothing; he still is James’ and Lily’s son.”
Severus was instantly listening the moment Black mentioned Harry’s name; his days were a blur of numbness now and even thinking felt like an effort beyond him, but his son’s name would never fail to draw his attention. Memories and thoughts of Harry were kept safe; it had taken him a while but he had figured out how; it wasn't as though he didn't have time to spare. Locked away in a little box in his mind, he treasured his life with Harry, the moments they had shared and the love he had for the boy. Severus had buried it so deep that not even the spell could destroy it.
His mind sudden swirling with memories and thoughts of Harry, he was slightly taken aback when suddenly a copy of the Daily Prophet was dangled in front of his eyes. At the top of the page there was a large picture, showing Harry in Diagon Alley… with Damon and Clayton. He couldn’t have ever imagined being happier upon seeing those two familiar faces.
A wash of pure relief settled over him, making him feel more at peace than he had done since the day Dumbledore had unwelcomely beaten his way back into their lives. Harry was with Damon; Severus had no doubt that the man would do everything he could to keep Harry safe. Even Black’s joy that Harry had rejected the Deatheaters in favour of staying with Damon was a good sign; he had clearly tutored the boy well. It seemed that his warnings about Lucius Malfoy had been heeded.
“He doesn’t even look that worried about you,” Sirius pointed out tauntingly as he turned the paper back around as though to inspect it more closely. “He never wanted to be with you and next month he will be at Hogwarts with Dumbledore, where he will learn the truth, learn who he really is.”
It was that comment that hit home to Severus. Harry truly didn’t look that bothered; however, he knew his son, his loyalty and recklessness, even his downright stupidity at times. If Harry was going to Hogwarts, going to spend time in the company of Dumbledore, then he would have a reason, even if it was reckless and stupid.
“How long do you think it will take for him to start to hate you?” Black asked with glee. “For lying to him, for stealing him away from his real family.”
Harry would understand; Severus had to believe that. The lies he had told had been essential for their survival and, even if Harry hated him for a little while, he would understand in the end. Harry would always be his son and he would always be Harry’s father; in the end he had to believe that Harry would never waiver in the knowledge that the man who raised him, loved him.
He took comfort in the fact that Harry was at least with two people that loved and cared about him as much as he did. Damon and Clayton had known them for years and Severus had never doubted them, not once. Damon had protected the two rather mischievous boys just as much as he had. If Harry was happy and not concerned about him then that was a good thing in his opinion. He didn’t want his son to be concerned with his fate. Severus had resigned himself to the knowledge that he was probably never leaving this room, at least not alive.
FGHP
Fenrir had been keeping a close eye on the new addition to their pack; watching her made for a welcome distraction from Harry and Micha, who had skipped lunch, as well as barely eating breakfast, and had remained as far from everyone else as physically possible while not actually leaving the clearing. Fenrir had no clue what the two of them were finding to talk about for so long. He was of course eager to find out but Harry was still pissed with him, as always, so at least for the moment he would stay away and give them both space. Though he didn’t care how much space either of them needed, tonight, Harry would be sleeping in his arms.
Tessie, his distraction, had seemingly adjusted well, clearly used to being in a pack and how they worked but he was curious about her. She had seemed fine until a letter had arrived for her an hour previously and now she seemed agitated and on edge. It was her that eventually came to him, falling to her knees before him, almost in tears, her china blue eyes filled with worry and even fear too, if the Alpha wasn’t mistaken. He had no clue what had happened to make the content young woman to change so drastically.
“My Alpha,” she said, her head bowed and voice unsteady. “I have… my cousin he sent me… this.” She held out a letter with trembling hands, which Fenrir took.
“Why are you showing this to me?” Fenrir asked as he scanned over the contents of the letter, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do you hope to achieve?”
“My Alpha, believe me when I say that I want to be here; I want to stay here, for this to be my home. I would never… I showed you because I didn’t know what to do. I love my little sister; I want to protect her more than anything. I need your help my Alpha, I don’t know what to do.”
Fenrir read the letter over again before summoning Damon over as well; Tessie could do nothing but remain on the ground, praying that they would help her. If they refused then she was out of options. She watched on as the Alpha wolf handed the letter over, for his Beta to read while pondering the situation himself.
“The strays think you’re going to be the new spy because it was your fault that Harlan was killed?” Damon questioned in shock as he re-read the letter for the second time. Tessie nodded her head, terrified that she might be killed at any moment.
“Please,” she said, pleading with them. “I don’t want my little sister to die, the… the Dark Lord… he’ll kill her.”
“What do you want us to do about it?” Fenrir grunted, unhappy with the situation; she was not even truly part of their pack yet, she had been there less than a day and already she asked for help with a matter that was of no concern to him. Though he could admit that at least the letter backed up everything she had told them so far, but it could still be a plot.
“Help me save her! Please, I’ll do anything,” Tessie begged, her eyes already red rimmed from tears.
“Fenrir, my Alpha, could I speak with you a minute,” Damon asked. Fenrir gave him a look of disapproval but the Beta didn't waver. “I might have a solution to the problem,” he said and after a few moments consideration the Alpha finally nodded and got to his feet. They moved away from the girl slightly, before Damon would elaborate. “Perhaps we could use this to our advantage,” he suggested, taking care to lower his voice so that they wouldn't be overheard.
“How?” the Alpha demanded impatiently.
“We allow her to send information to them,” Damon told him, glancing over at where Tessie was still kneeling on the floor, her body trembling as she sobbed in fear for her sister’s life.
Fenrir scowled at his Beta. “How will that help?”
“Because it will be false information; we will control what she tells them,” Damon explained. “We know they want you and Harry, so we need to give them reason to hold off on attacking us and just trying to take one or both of you.”
“They would not succeed,” Fenrir stated firmly, he would not let any harm come to his little mate, no matter now troubled their relationship was at the moment.
“Of course, my Alpha,” Damon agreed, “but do you think we would come away from it unscathed if they tried? Surely it is better to stop the fighting from happening at all, than to just win when it does.”
“You have an idea of what to send?” Fenrir questioned; he would be more comfortable with a direct confrontation but, if it would keep his pack safe, he would give these tactics and deceptions of Damon’s a try.
“That she believes she can make friends with Harry and get him away from the pack without a fight,” Damon said quickly, knowing that even the mention of such a thing was likely to test the Alpha’s temper. As expected the Alpha let out a growl of warning at the suggestion.
“I know you hate the idea, but I am not suggesting we actually let her do it. You know I wouldn’t let anyone take Harry, I love the boy. Like a son,” Damon added hastily, with some degree of exasperation, when the Alpha growled again in warning. “And think about it; it could protect him, all of us. Even Tessie's sister; they aren’t going to kill her while they think that is what is keeping Tessie working for them.”
“I still don’t trust her,” Fenrir told him stubbornly; it was the only real argument he could think of against the scheme, there was too big a risk of her sending true information to the strays to be used against them.
“We tell her what to write, we watch her write it and we observe her leaving them the messages,” Damon said. He too wasn’t ready to completely trust the girl, and wouldn’t be any time soon, but he was prepared to give her a chance, particularly if she would willingly assist them with his plan; and they would just have to take precautions.
“Fine,” the Alpha said after a moment of thought, he still wasn’t happy but he could see the merit in the idea.
The Alpha and Beta returned to their spots next to the still crying Tessie, who looked up with nothing short of desperation. They were her only hope and she knew she had no right to ask anything of them, let alone help with something as big or as dangerous as this.
“You will write back to them,” the Alpha stated bluntly, “Damon will tell you what to say.” He was willing to let Damon play his games with the strays but he’d be damned if he was going to be the one to sit down and work out exactly what lies they wanted to tell them; particularly if it was going to be concepts for how his little mate could be taken from him.
“Come with me,” Damon said to the very confused looking Tessie, realising that the explanations would be left to him. “We can keep you and your sister alive, but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he told her as Tessie hurried to follow him as he went to get writing supplies.
She nodded eagerly, and without hesitation. “Anything,” she assured him again and he smiled at her.
The Alpha might not have been keen on the plan, but Damon felt empowered; for once it was them ahead of the game. He would make the rest of those strays pay for all they had done and he certainly didn’t feel even a scrap of guilt about using Tessie to do so.
FGHP
Narcissa would have quite happily stayed hidden in Brax’s nursery for the rest of the duration of the war but it would have been seen as a statement of rebellion if she refused to attend the meeting, when the Dark Lord had made it very clear that everyone was to be in attendance. It would put both her and Brax’s lives in danger, far more than actually going to meeting as requested would. She just had to give the Dark Lord no reason to spare her a thought.
It was curious that this would likely be the first time that Lucius would lay eyes upon his younger son, given that her husband would undoubtedly be present. Narcissa just hoped the blond bastard of a man would continue to maintain his distant disinterest in them both; that was actually suiting her rather well at the moment.
It was strange walking through the halls of Malfoy Manor again, the place barely felt like the home she had first moved into after her wedding, almost unrecognisable from the building where Draco had had most of his firsts. She remembered so clearly Draco taking his first steps in the dining room where she was heading now.
The whole building was tarnished with the evil that occupied it and her memories felt somewhat tarnished along with it. It was hard to associate the grand room that had been taken over by Voldemort with the place where her and Lucius had watched Draco with pride that day. The Dark Lord had taken so much from her; she blamed him for the changes in the man she had married, who seemed no longer to view his family as his priority like he once had.
She clutched seven week old Abraxus close to her chest, where her heart beat furiously fast with her anxiety. She didn’t want to be down here, she didn’t want to see Lucius, Bellatrix or Tom, especially not with her youngest son in her arms. However she would not trust the house elves to watch him, not tonight. She could feel the Dark Lord’s anger reverberating around the walls of her grand stately home. Malfoy Manor was not going to be a peaceful place to be tonight.
Upon entering the familiar dining room she tried not to think of all the happy memories they had shared there; this place was dark and cold. No amount of happiness could change it while he was still here. Her eyes swept over the occupants already seated. There were those who were her family; her husband, of course; her sister, Bellatrix, and her brother in law, Rodolphus, and then his brother, Rastaban. Then there were the other Deatheaters; Nott, Macnair, Rookwood, the Carrow siblings, Yaxley, Travers, Rowle, Crabbe, Gibbon, Goyle, Jugson, Avery; she knew them all by sight, though they repulsed her.
There were also werewolves in their midst. An intimidating man who she didn’t recall having seen before, but the one sat with the Deatheaters at the table was obviously an Alpha; his pack gathered behind him in silence, several of them leaning against the wall and one of them, curiously, seemed to be knitting.
She knew that she was expected to sit beside Lucius, which was not something she wanted to do but she would not draw attention to herself by doing otherwise. Bellatrix was sat next to the head of the table, which had been left vacant for the Dark Lord. With a huff of breath she gathered her nerve and sat beside her husband, determinedly not looking at him.
“You brought the… child,” Lucius hissed at her disapprovingly.
“His name is Abraxus and I thought it was time you saw him, Lucius,” she told him, still determinedly not looking at him.
“It isn’t safe,” Lucius pointed out with a glance towards the gathered werewolves.
“Like you care,” she muttered furiously, “you brought Draco to one of these when he was younger than Abraxus is now.”
“He is my heir, it is different,” Lucius told her in a stern and angry, though still hushed voice.
“How?” she said, finally giving in and turning to glare at him.
“Not here, Cissa!” He said with finality.
“Fine,” she said and looked away. She wasn’t sure when exactly she was supposed to discuss anything with him since he had been avoiding her for months, but she did agree that creating a scene now would not be advisable.
Her attention back on her son, she jiggled the small bundle in her arms so that his head was resting in the crook of her arm, sleeping peacefully. The poor boy had been so grizzly today and she was glad that he had finally dozed off. She had an hour before he was due his next feed and she hoped that this meeting would not take that long.
The atmosphere in the room shifted as Tom Riddle entered, his great serpent monster slithering along beside him, making Narcissa’s blood run cold and her hand moved to shade Brax’s eyes despite them being closed; there was no way she would risk the little boy opening them at the wrong moment and meeting the eyes of the basilisk.
“You have failed me,” Tom stated as he made his way along the room, addressing no one in particularly, after all they had all failed him in one way or another. The oversight that was Harry Potter however, he would blame them all for. They had fallen for the lies of Albus Dumbledore, they actually believed his drivel and now Harry Potter was found to be alive and well, and a werewolf no less, living with Greyback. It made him want to kill someone.
“My Lord…” Yaxley began, but he had barely gotten the words out before Voldemort rounded on him.
“AVADA KEDAVRA,” he bellowed and the killing curse hit Yaxley in the chest, leaving the Deatheater lifeless, as he slumped forward onto the table. Now the others would learn not to speak out of turn, though it had done little to relieve his frustrations.
No one else was going to be foolish enough to speak and so Tom made his way to his seat, the head basilisk curling up around his feet; though, with the creature’s massive size, it was also wrapped around most of the Deatheaters too. He glared at everyone of them, happy to note that they all seemed to be waiting with baited breath for him to speak. It filled him with glee to know that they were so damn terrified of him that they didn’t even dare draw breath. That was exactly the kind of terror he liked to instil in his followers. He also noticed that Narcissa Malfoy had remembered her place beside her husband, and at his meetings; even if she had brought the little brat with her.
“Harry Potter is alive,” Voldemort said, though he was sure that the majority would have read the article themselves and already be aware; he still wanted to be sure there was no doubt in that fact. He also wanted it very clear exactly why he had summoned them all here tonight. “It seemed that a traitor hid the boy away,” he informed them, his anger at Severus barely restrained. “Snape is to be found and brought before me.”
“Harlan said that Harry believed his father was dead,” Gideon told him.
“Shame, I would have enjoyed killing him,” the Dark Lord hissed, but it made no difference to his plans. “Apparently the boy is to be attending Hogwarts, we will not let the boy be used as a weapon against us.”
With a flick of his wand he summoned a copy of the Daily Prophet, making it slam down upon the middle of the table. His foolish servants had gotten the new of Harry Potter being alive on the front page of the most read paper in their world. He was furious. Everything would be more difficult now that the world would be paying attention to the boy.
He had taken great pleasure in torturing Lucius for his failure, but even that was before he had realised the extent of it. He would make the foolish man pay for his mistakes again later, but first he needed a plan. He would have Harry Potter; the boy would be a powerful weapon if he could get him on side and he had no faith in the abilities of Gideon’s pack of werewolves.
Narcissa had seen the paper and was definitely not pleased to see that Harry’s continued existence was now public knowledge; it certainly would make the poor boy’s life a good deal more complicated. That he was now apparently mated with Fenrir lined up with what Draco had told her about his chance meeting with Harry. Her heart ached as the Dark Lord had dismissed Severus’ death as insignificant.
At least she knew she had something to bargain with now if it came to it; she was one of only very few who knew how Harry had become a werewolf in the first place. That was the kind of knowledge that the Dark Lord would want.
“But we know something that they know not,” Voldemort declared smugly, “the boy is a werewolf. And not just any werewolf, he is a submissive, mated to Fenrir Greyback, who was once loyal to our cause and I believe with some… persuasion, he could be again,” he explained. “Should both Greyback and Potter join us willingly, I may even let them remain together.”
“I thought you wanted us to take care of that,” Axlar said without looking up from his knitting. He didn’t like the insinuation that they would need help from these… humans.
“Shut up, Axlar,” Gideon hissed; he didn’t like the comment much more than his Beta did, but at least he had enough sense to know when to keep his mouth damn well shut.
“Your orders remain unchanged,” Tom told the werewolves, “but I do not care WHO brings the boy to me; JUST BRING ME HARRY POTTER!”
