A/N:SerpensPrincess :) :) :)
Sorry for this delay, I've been snowed under with work.
Disclaimer: None of my work belongs to me, it is solely the property of the one and only J.K. Rowling and any other company which has the copyright of Harry Potter, including Warner Bros. Nothing here belongs to me; all the characters are J.K. Rowling's originally, though any new character not part of the Harry Potter series belongs to me.
Title: I stand for freedom
Author: hpjkrowling4ever
Chapter Four
Elliot could not help but be intrigued by Harry Potter. He was nothing like what he had expected the Saviour of the Wizarding World to be, yet everything he had wanted him to be. His father had often come to the sanctuary with stories of meeting the Boy-Who-Lived, amusing anecdotes about his general distaste for politicking and manipulation and pretty much everything the government was known for, but his unusual ability to see straight to the heart of the matter and expose it. What the effect of the exposure was, well, his dad has said that he understood why the Boy-Who-Lived had taken his two friends with him on his camping trip, because the boy had no ability to deal with the consequences of his actions.
Elliot saw this all in glorious technicolour in the sanctuary. His arrival had made ripples spread through the inhabitants of the sanctuary. All the creatures looked hard at the young man and guessed that the taint of the gold fae on his magic meant that he was very likely the Destined of the fae. Elliot trusted Rhys with all his being and knew that this fae must be in an absolutely shocking state for him to have sequestered him. The fact that Rhys had introduced Harry to the fae highlighted in vivid, neon yellow that Rhys believed that Harry was his Destined. In addition, Rhys' casual removal of Harry from the main ward that morning to bring him to see the gold fae, and Harry's reaction to that news, showed that Harry was receptive to the idea of being a Destined.
All these thoughts moved through his mind as he went about his daily tasks in the sanctuary, spending most of the morning helping the werewolves, and especially trying to get Raphael, the youngest werewolf, to open up. The other three werewolves were very protective of him, and Elliot was comforted to know that since two of them were in the same pack, they would probably offer aid to the boy. However, while he was still in deep emotional pain, Elliot knew that Rhys would not let Raphael out.
Just as he was getting some new bandages for the burnt werewolf, Harry materialised. Elliot could immediately see that he had been crying, and something in him clamoured to make him feel better. He softened his usually quite uptight stance and smiled in what he hoped was a fairly welcoming way.
"Hello," he said, gesturing Harry over. Harry seemed glad that he didn't mention his tear-streaked face but instead handed him a tray of food.
"Lunch," Elliot said, "I'm trying to get through to Raphael before he starves himself. He's been refusing most of the food that I'm brought to him, and it's worrying the other werewolves. And me," he added as an afterthought.
"He's the youngest werewolf, isn't he?" Harry asked.
"That's correct," Elliot replied, starting to walk towards the werewolves' room.
"He was kicked out of his house, wasn't he?" Harry asked, and Elliot glanced at him, surprised by his perceptiveness. Harry noticed and gave a wry smile. "I'm good at noticing that sort of thing."
"If you don't mind me asking, where did you become familiar with abuse?" Elliot asked, his mind struggling to grasp the idea that the famous young man next to him was familiar with scenarios that walked into the sanctuary.
"Here and there," Harry replied nonchalantly, and Elliot knew that he wouldn't get anything more from him.
They walked ahead in comfortable silence until they reached the werewolves' room, but Elliot realised that Harry's presence next to him had been detected because all the werewolves were awake and alert, watching Harry closely as he entered the room. He may be the Boy-Who-Lived, but none of the werewolves trusted him enough to lower their guard.
Harry ignored all of their stares and politely walked up to the werewolf in his forties, who was the temporary alpha of the werewolves while they were away from their pack. Harry half-bowed, showing clear knowledge of werewolf etiquette. Elliot's eyebrows rose to the top of his head, and he saw his surprise mirrored in the faces of the others.
"Whose pack are you part of, young man?" the oldest werewolf asked, glancing at the alpha.
"Was, sir. Alpha Remus Lupin. We lost him in the War," Harry's voice was choked, and Elliot could almost see the grief shrouding him. "His son is my godson, and like a son to me."
"He would have been a good alpha, had he had time to mature," the werewolf said, putting his fisted hand over his heart, offering his condolences. Harry nodded his head, accepting the condolences. Raphael was sitting up on his bed and staring at Harry in fascination. It was the most interest that Elliot had seen the young boy display since his arrival.
"You're Harry Potter," the boy whispered with a reverential note to his voice. Elliot saw Harry's shoulders tense up almost imperceptibly, but when he turned to Raphael, he was smiling and looked relaxed.
"What gave me away?" he asked.
"Your eyes, of course," Raphael said scornfully. "The eyes and glasses. You've got the brightest green eyes."
Elliot could tell that the observation was unexpected for Harry but welcome; his shoulders relaxed and he took a tentative step towards Raphael. Elliot saw the other werewolves tense, but one look from the alpha stopped them from doing anything. He could feel the tension building in the room.
"Everyone says they look like my mum's eyes," Harry said.
"Your mum's dead, isn't she?" Elliot winced at the rather insensitive question and fought his instincts to defend Harry. He could see the other werewolves looking uncomfortable.
"That she is. So's my dad. My alpha is dead. My godfather was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange when I was fifteen. My mentor was killed. My aunt and uncle don't want me near them. Any more questions?" Harry asked sharply. Raphael had the grace to look ashamed of his question.
"Sorry. It's just…I wanted to check," Raphael whispered, curling in on himself. Harry took another step forward.
"Of course you wanted to check, but that's no reason to be rude," Harry replied. "Now, will you eat the food Elliot's bringing to you?"
"I don't really want to," Raphael murmured. Elliot sighed.
"Why ever not?" Harry asked, challenging the boy. Elliot raised his eyebrows and could see the alpha doing the same.
"It's all too strong. I don't know how to control all these smells coming at me," Raphael answered, lifting his head up and looking at Harry defiantly. Harry turned to the werewolves. The alpha moved off his bed and walked over to Raphael's until he was standing next to him.
"If it all took to get you talking was Harry Potter, we would have sorted this out a lot faster," he said.
"He's a celebrity," Raphael said. "How many times in my life am I going to get to talk to him?" he asked. Harry chuckled despite himself. "I didn't want to pass that up."
"Thank you," the alpha said, a wry smile on his face. He extended his hand. "I'm Philip."
"As we've all established, I'm Harry," Harry replied, shaking his hand. "Look after yourself," he said mock-sternly to Raphael, who looked mildly sheepish. Elliot handed the food to Philip and bowed himself out. Harry followed. Once they got out, Elliot let out a breath and glanced at Harry in amazement.
"You're good at this," he said. Harry's cheeks went slightly pink.
"I volunteered at Phoenix Orphanage for a while. I love working with children, especially if they've been through difficulties. Something about them appeals to me," he answered.
"Is that why Rhys has you working with the gold fae?" Elliot asked, looking askance at Harry, who simply sighed at Elliot's singlemindedness determination to get more information out of Harry about the fae.
"I'm not sure." Elliot could see Harry gearing himself up for a question. Instead of pushing him, all Elliot did was lead them to the coffee room and started boiling the kettle. He was reaching up into one of the top cupboards for the nicer coffee that he hid there when Harry spoke.
"How do you know if you're a Destined?" he asked. "Specifically?"
Elliot almost dropped the coffee. He hadn't expected this question to come so soon.
"Do you think you're the Destined of the gold fae?" he asked.
"I just…I feel safe with him. But also useful. I don't know. It's so confusing." Harry looked lost and ran a hand through his hair. "Just. I feel this overwhelming urge to care for him, and his –" Harry cut himself off, looking guilty.
"His child?" Elliot asked gently, as he put the ground coffee beans into a coffee pot next to the kettle. Harry shot him a guilty look. "It's okay. When you told me that he had been captive, I made the assumption myself. The fact that he's still in his full form…it means he has someth-one to protect." The kettle whistled, and Elliot poured the water into the coffee pot.
"Yeah," Harry murmured. "She's called Ismay."
Elliot took a long look at Harry and the way he was smiling absently. At that moment, it was achingly obvious to the fae that Harry was indeed a Destined.
"It's a beautiful name," Elliot whispered, standing at Harry's shoulder. He knew that it was important to acknowledge the beauty of a fae's child to the parent, and since Harry was the fae's Destined, and would be Ismay's parent, the same applied rule to him.
"She's beautiful," Harry said. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. "Rhys said that two Destined don't usually realise that they are Destined."
"In normal circumstances, that's correct," Elliot said, moving away to strain the coffee and pour it out. "However, in these circumstances, it's important for you both to be aware of the bond that's forming. It means that the gold fae will not be caught unawares and could easily refuse the bond." He looked carefully at Harry when he said that and felt a small twinge of relief despite himself when he saw the look of fear cross Harry's face.
"I'm worried that I'm feeling all this too quickly," Harry admitted. "I've only seen him twice."
"There's no timeframe for a Destined bond," Elliot said, handing Harry a coffee cup. He moved to one of the sofas in the room. "You've come out of a great ordeal, and so has your gold fae. It doesn't mean that your whole relationship is sorted; obviously, you've a long way to go. It means that you've got a very special, almost sacred, bond between you and it will help you. It also means that you're one step closer to finding your other Destined."
Harry put his coffee down on the table and ran his hands through his hair again.
"And there are always three?"
"With a gold fae, most definitely. The way that you're so quickly becoming aware of your Destined bond with him means that he's trying to seek stability for himself and for his daughter as quickly as possible. I'm sure Rhys mentioned to you that there comes a point when your magic allows you to make a choice." Elliot looked at Harry, who nodded, his head in his hands. "The fact that you're aware of your bond forming is giving you time to refuse and pull away before this moment. The fact that you don't mind it means that you'll probably accept, and I wouldn't give it too long. Then it won't take too long for you both to find your second Destined. It just depends on how ready he is to meet new people."
Harry lifted his head up and shook himself. Elliot could almost see him storing everything in the back of his mind for perusal later.
"Right. Thanks." Harry took a deep breath. "How does everything work on a day-to-day basis here? Rhys gave me an outline, but recommended that you talk to me further about what I might need to do."
Elliot accepted the change of subject for what itwas, and launched into an explanation of how the sanctuary was run.
Harry spent the rest of the day solidly not thinking about what Elliot had talked about. He was assigned to work with the werewolves for the rest of the day and enjoyed it immensely. Raphael, now that the alpha had had a good conversation with him, turned out to have a bit of a mischievous streak and kept them all laughing with funny stories. There were moments where he faded a bit, remembering the life that he had been forcibly dislodged from, but with the help of the other werewolves there, and Harry's presence, he was pulled out of his mood before it got too low.
It was only that evening when he took the Floo to Ron and Hermione's house that he started to think through what Elliot was saying. There, in the comforting presence of his closest friends, he explained what Elliot had told him.
"Harry, no offense mate, but it sounds pretty irrevocable," Ron observed, rubbing his bottle of beer between his hands.
"I just – I'm worried that it's all happening too quickly," Harry whispered, looking down at his own bottle. Hermione was curled up on the sofa beside him, her feet (which were always cold) under his legs and her hands wrapped around a mug of herbal tea. She extended a hand to touch Harry's shoulder and squeezed.
"There's no time limit to discovering you love someone, Harry," Hermione said. In that moment, she felt such deep sympathy for her friend whose parents would never get the opportunity to be here for his crisis. "Just because Ron and I were friends before getting together doesn't mean that it has to be the same for you. And you're a Destined, Harry. Having magic at work in any relationship is special, and you've got to admit that your relationship with your fae has been formed under some very extraordinary circumstances."
Harry nodded reluctantly. Ron sighed and leant forward in his chair.
"Harry, the fact that you're overthinking this on a whole new level shows how careful you are about it. Also, think for a second. Your fae has a probably quite traumatised little girl there with him, and he needs to recover himself. You're both Destined. If it's obvious to you, it's glaringly obvious to everyone else. That means that he's going to have to trust you with his daughter so that he can heal himself."
"But that's what I'm worried about, Ron!" Harry exclaimed, standing up and running his hand through his hand in agitation. He took a shaky breath, taking off his glasses and rubbing them on his shirt. Well accustomed to Harry's nervous gestures, his friends remained silent, knowing that he had a lot to get off his chest. "I mean, what happens if I don't like who he is as a human? He's almost nonverbal as a full fae."
"Okay, that's a sensible worry, Harry. Now, sit down," Hermione ordered, leaning over and tugging at his shirt sleeve. "My feet are getting cold."
Harry gave a half-hearted chuckle but obeyed his friend. There was a beat of silence while they all mulled over Harry's admission before Ron spoke.
"You need to work out a plan of action with him, Harry. It sounds like all Rhys has been doing is letting him recover at his own pace, but now you need answers and you can't let your bond keep forming while you've got that huge worry hanging over you."
"Good advice, Ron," Hermione said, nodding. She uncurled herself and moved so that she could wrap an arm around Harry's shoulders. She put her feet under a sofa cushion instead and let Harry curl into her. She started running a hand through his hair, and Ron gave her a soft smile. "You've got to talk to him. It's obvious that he won't let his daughter out of his sight, so you're going to have to get him to turn in front of you with her there."
Harry looked quite desperate for a long moment before steeling himself. Hermione and Ron could visibly see him running through his plan of action and relaxing.
"Thanks, guys," he said, looking gratefully at them.
"What we're here for, mate," Ron said, leaning back thankfully. "Always to help you clean up your messes."
"Or make them worse," Hermione said, giving the pile of dirty dishes that Ron and Harry had let accumulate in the course of the evening.
Ron gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Game of chess first?" he asked, looking pleadingly at Hermione, who caved almost immediately when Harry did the same.
"If you must."
A/N: Everything is having a great time kicking off in my life, but I really like this fic so I'm going at it steadily. Longer chapters will come when my life gets back on track.
