Disclaimer: See first chapter
Author's Note: Sorry this is late, but we had/ have problems with our internet and my head doesn't appreciate sudden movements, flirring computer screens and high concentration levels right now. On that note, I hope there're not too many mistakes...
Warnings for this chapter: violence.
38. REASSURANCE
Harry sighed, absently scuffling his feet over the cupboard until he had found a comfortable position and then rested his hands over his stomach, drawing slow patterns with his fingertips, wondering if it would feel weird talking to his unborn child or what he could say that wasn't completely sappy but would still establish a relationship to his child. When he couldn't think of anything, he decided to postpone any possible conversations and instead conjured up the ultrasonic screen.
The black and white hologram showed his baby: the large head that was almost as big as the rest of his body, the tiny arms and legs, the even tinier fingers, the protective bubble around him and the soft fluttering of his heart beat. Strong, regular, healthy. Even Harry's own numbers were green, soft green, given, but not yellow and definitely not red. They were fine.
He observed his little boy for a while longer, humming a soft melody under his breath until he became aware of what he was doing and broke off abruptly just to start again a few minutes later. It was relaxing, and he didn't feel much inclination to move, but when almost a quarter hour had passed and Fenrir still hadn't returned, he rolled from the cupboard, landing in a crouch next to it. He swished his wand to clean the cloak and send it back to join the others. After he had made sure that his clothes weren't too crumpled and that his shirt was decently tugged into his trousers, he made his way to the door, slipping out into the corridor.
He half expected to see Fenrir coming towards him, but the corridor was empty and with a sigh, he slowly trudged back towards the Atrium. Just when he was about to come within sight of the festivities, a large calloused hand once more snapped over his mouth and a muscular arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him back into another side room. He managed to twist a little and ram his elbow back into his captor's stomach, feeling annoyed and panicked. A soft grumble greeted his ears, and the hand slipped from his mouth, allowing him to breathe more freely.
"Fen, dammit, I fucking meant it, don't do that!" Harry hissed, trying to twist around.
"I'm afraid you're mistaking me, Mr. Potter." Harry froze then renewed his struggles, but the other man did not let up. "Shh, Mr. Potter, I'm not here to hurt you. I only want to talk."
"Then let me go of me and I'll gladly have a conversation with you, Sharpfang," Harry snapped, trying to pry the strong fingers away from his waist one by one.
"I think I should keep a hold of you, Mr. Potter, to make sure that you listen me out," Marrock replied but relaxed his hold a little more, leaning closer to Harry's ear. "Please, believe me I don't intend to hurt you, nor your child."
"Stay away from my fucking neck," Harry demanded, surprised when the werewolf drew back immediately. "What the hell do you want?"
"I want you to come with me, to my pack," Marrock answered without hesitation. "I can offer you protection, a home, a family, respect, love, anything you want."
Harry blinked, giving up his struggles in surprise and tried to crane his neck to see the werewolf's eyes. Marrock allowed him to turn in his hold, meeting his incredulous gaze with the utmost calm.
"What?" Harry demanded. "Did you not notice that I'm here with Fenrir? I don't fucking need a new family or a home and I can damn well take care of myself!"
It might not have been the best of moves to crash his head against Marrock's chin, especially as Harry most likely did more harm to himself than to Marrock.
"But I can offer you more, offer you everything," Marrock murmured, very carefully smoothing his thumb over Harry's forehead. "We'll respect you, cherish you, take care of you, love you and your child. I'll love your child as I'll love my own."
"Your child?" Harry asked in disbelief. "So let me get this straight, you want to have me as your breeding mare? Well, thank you for the offer, but go fuck yourself."
"Mr. Potter, it's not my intention to upset you," Marrock murmured. "Fenrir doesn't appreciate you - "
"But I appreciate him!" Harry snapped. "Just because you think that Fen doesn't deserve me, it doesn't mean that you do. You can't simply drag me away and plan out a new life for me with your pack because you assume you'd be a better father than Fenrir. It's still my life and my decision."
"That's why I'm asking you."
"You call this asking?" Harry asked incredulously. "Well, then thanks, but no thanks. Would you now kindly release me?"
"... and why I'll try to convince you until you agree to come with me of your own free will," Marrock continued. "Or if that should fail, I will take you with me now and convince you later." He carefully skimmed his knuckles over Harry's cheek. "I truly do not mean you harm, though I understand that you might find this hard to believe."
"Look... that's kind of flattering" Harry was attempting to keep his voice even and unhurried. "But good intentions or not, I still must insist on the point that I'm not merely a way for you to get a child and that I'm absolutely happy where I am, with Fenrir."
"You don't - "
"No, you don't understand!" Harry interrupted him. "This came as a surprise to you, fine. But if a man discovers that his wife is infertile, he doesn't just go about getting a new one and you can't just kidnap me because I'm pregnant with a werewolf's child and then force me to conceive your children as well. It doesn't work like that.
"You want a family, I certainly get that and I also get that it's a big deal to you that I survived so far, but I'm out of the game, off the market, taken, spoken for, whatever you'd like to call it. And if anything your fight with Fenrir should have shown you that."
"That fight wasn't about you." Marrock was so damn calm and reasonable that Harry had to remind himself of the painfully learned lesson that resorting to physical violence against werewolves almost always ended with bruises on Harry's body and his ego. "Voldemort shouldn't have introduced me as Alpha. It was nothing personal."
"Oh, but you can bet that Fenrir will take this here personal," Harry pressed out. "He'll - "
"Mr. Potter, please let that be my worry," Marrock interrupted him firmly. "You're well worth the risk."
Harry bit his lip. It seemed unwise to snort or roll his eyes, and Marrock was obviously less than impressed by threats or questions of morality.
"You can adopt." Harry made sure that he didn't sound as helpless and desperate as he felt. If Marrock could be reasonable while defending his twisted logic so could Harry.
"Who would give a werewolf a child?" Marrock asked bitterly.
"Muggles don't know you're a werewolf," Harry protested. "And Voldemort is not as prejudiced as the old Ministry. At least he's not prejudiced against werewolves."
"Muggles do not give their children to men who cannot account for a job, a home, impressive financial resources or a partner providing all three of these aspects," the werewolf replied. "And yes, of course I have tried to get a stable job, buy a house and put aside some money, but that again was prevented by the Ministry. Voldemort might be willing to change some things, but it would be foolish to think that werewolves are his first priority."
"I won't deny that it's difficult for you, Mr. Sharpfang, but this still isn't a solution," Harry argued. "Maybe you should just focus on finding the right partner for now, maybe even a single parent who would love some help with the upbringing of their child?"
"Do you know how often I heard something along the lines of 'I really like you, but I just can't risk endangering my child'?" Marrock asked rhetorically. "They never give me the chance to show them my good qualities."
"But I'm sure you'll find a partner who will see past your lycanthropy and once you've got to know each other better you can suggest artificial insemination."
A shadow flickered over Marrock's brown eyes, making them seem even darker and for a second his hands tightened on Harry's waist. When Harry began struggling again, he loosened his hands immediately with a sheepish little half-smile.
"I apologise," his voice was pitched low and soothing as if he considered Harry a spooked animal that he needed to calm down. "I appreciate your ideas, but you can believe me that I've tried everything already."
"Oh, yeah?" Harry taunted, not because he didn't believe Marrock but because he felt helpless and the only thing he could think of anymore was to keep the werewolf talking long enough for Fenrir to come and help him.
"Yes, Mr. Potter." Marrock hardly reacted to Harry's tone of voice, his voice remaining even and his eyes calm, though Harry was beginning to see the emptiness behind the one wish to have Harry and have a child. "And now I'm trying this, not to hurt you or to use you, but because I know that I can be a good father and I will strive to be a good partner for you."
"By raping me," Harry snapped, quite surprised when his own body reacted with a shiver to his words. He wasn't scared, dammit!
"You will have all the time and the right to refuse me as often as you please," Marrock corrected. "I will not force you."
"And you think that I find your words very believable when you have every intention to force me to come with you?" Harry hissed, glaring at the werewolf. "And you also suppose I have not noticed this, do you?" He moved his hand down to hover over the werewolf's crotch. "I've met enough perverts to recognise one when he's standing right in front of me... and, I've learned to deal with them!"
With an uttered curse, icy fire shot from his hand and scorched the werewolf's most sensitive area. Marrock howled in pain, instinctively releasing Harry to clasp his hands protectively over his abused groin, and Harry took the opportunity and ran as fast as his feet and his swollen stomach would allow him. He didn't dare look over his shoulder to see if Marrock was following him. But he didn't have to. He had barely reached the door, barely pressed down the handle and caught a glimpse of the corridor behind it when strong arms pulled him back, not harshly but insistently, unrelentingly.
"I guess, I should have expected this," Marrock murmured. "And I see you won't be convinced - "
"Damn right, I won't." Harry struggled, twisted, turned, even bit Marrock until he could taste blood on his tongue.
"Not today, at least," Marrock spoke over Harry's protest, gathering the small human a little tighter against his strong body. "I will take you with me now so that we can talk more."
"And how would you do that?" Harry mocked. "You can't possibly think that you will manage to drag me through an Atrium full of wizards and witches without them noticing anything. You might as well give up now."
"I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you again," Marrock murmured. "Voldemort was kind enough to provide all guests not from London with Portkeys to and from the Ministry."
Harry's muscles cramped and his heart plummeted to somewhere outside of his body, leaving behind a gaping hole of overwhelming panic. "No, you can't. Marrock, please, please, no, you'll kill my child. Please, no, I'll do anything, anything at all, just please... Don't, don't use that Portkey, I can't... please."
"Mr. Potter," Marrock looked in consternation down at the trembling young man, hardly noticing the fingernails that dug desperately into his arm. "You're telling the truth?"
"Yes!" Harry hardly noticed the tears running down his face. "If I use a Portkey my child could be killed. Please, please, I'm not lying, I'm not. I swear on my magic, on my parents' graves, please. Please..."
"I believe you, Mr. Potter," Marrock grumbled, rubbing one hand up and down Harry's arm; the younger man slumped in relief and breathed a quiet "thank you". "And I will make sure that you see a healer immediately after we arrive - "
"What?" Harry's shout came out more like a whisper. "No! I beg you! You can't risk my child like that. I'll give you anything you want. I'll leave Fenrir and come to your pack, but don't kill my child. Please..."
"I'm afraid I cannot trust you to keep your word or that Fenrir would allow you to keep your word," Marrock said. "I truly am sorry."
With one arm still holding Harry secure against his chest, he reached into his pocket for his Portkey. Harry felt all hope draining from him to be replaced by something darker and deadlier: desperation. It cruelly twisted his insides until he could no longer breathe, until black spots danced in front of his vision from the fierce pain that wrecked his body, until magic was pumping through his veins. Powerful. Scorching. Uncontrolled.
It threw the werewolf off of him, hurled him against the wall. It blasted the door out of its hinges and it gave Harry the strength to run, leading the young man blinded by tears in the right direction, in the direction of safety. Into the Atrium and right into Fenrir's arms.
"Little one?" Fenrir questioned, trying to contain the trembling little human in his arms. "What is wrong?"
"Sharpfang... he... Portkey... my baby... kidnap us..." Harry sobbed, clutching to Fenrir's shirt when the werewolf let out a deafening roar; but he was helplessly pushed aside and into someone else's arms as Fenrir catapulted himself forward and at Marrock, who had peaked around the door.
"Harry? Harry, can you hear me?" Draco whispered in his ear, carefully holding the younger wizard up. "Are you hurt?"
"My baby..." Harry sobbed, mindless of how pathetic he sounded.
"Rudolphus," the sibilant command was spoken close to Harry's ear and long-fingered hand briefly closed on his shoulder. "Make sure that Harry and his child are all right. Do not leave this room."
Fenrir's hands broke Marrock's bones in mindless rage, his claws ripping the flesh from bones and his teeth tearing veins and muscles. Normally, he would have been offended when Voldemort joined in with his own curses and hexes, but with Harry obviously hurt and distressed, he only cared that Marrock paid for what he had done to his little wizard.
He spared a glance at the healer, who was checking over his small lover and did his best to calm him, and he also had a fleeting moment of gratitude for Malfoy, who was rubbing Harry's back and whispering in his ear that everything would be alright. Then, he turned back to mauling Marrock with Voldemort's assistance.
"Fen!" It was the cry of a wounded animal that made him drop Marrock in the midst of an attack and swivel around to gather Harry in his arms, crooning in his ear and allowing his hands to wander soothingly over Harry's baby bump. "Fen, I need you!"
"I'm here, my little wolf," he murmured, surprised when Harry latched onto him with desperate force, wildly shaking his head while large crystal tears rolled over his cheeks, mixing with the blood on Fenrir's hands.
"No, you don't understand. I don't want you to beat him to death and it doesn't help me any if you take your revenge," Harry whispered urgently. "I need you. I need you to hold me and reassure me that no one will take me away from you, that you won't let anyone hurt my baby or touch me like that. Fen?"
"Oh, my little moonlight." Fenrir didn't like the vulnerability in Harry's eyes, his submissive, defeated stance or how broken his voice sounded. "I love you and you're my perfect little wolf. I won't let you or our cub be hurt. You're safe with me, I promise. I won't let you out of my sight from now on to make sure that no one will get close enough to lay a finger on you."
"Promise?"
"Of course, little wolf," Fenrir assured him, pressing a long kiss to Harry's forehead. "What did he do to scare you so, hm?"
"Wanted me... to bear his children. And he would have used a Portkey, he didn't care about killing my child, Fen." Harry broke down crying, the rest of his words lost between harsh, wretched sobs.
Fenrir growled, covertly sniffing to make sure that Harry wasn't bleeding and that Marrock hadn't dared to defile his mate. That he found nothing did not help to dissipate his anger because Harry was still clearly distressed and scared. He had never wanted to see Harry like this again.
"Don't," Harry whispered, and Fenrir tightened his arms around him, thinking that Harry had been speaking to him and didn't want him to leave. "Don't kill him, Tom. I know you wouldn't duck."
"What reason would I have to leave him alive?" Voldemort hissed, sending a quick stunner at the werewolf even though he was hardly moving anymore to make sure that he wouldn't be able to escape before he turned fully to Harry. "He is of no use to me and he has dared to hurt my heir. Do not fall back into old habits, Harry."
"His pack needs him, and I don't want to have to worry about vengeful werewolves," Harry whispered. "Something isn't right with him, Tom."
"Damn right," Fenrir grumbled, tugging Harry closer. "There must be something seriously wrong with his head if he thought that he could steal my lover and make him into his sex slave."
Harry winced, and Fenrir rumbled soothingly in his ear, carding his fingers through the sweaty black hair.
"I suggest you take Harry home where he can recover from this ordeal, Greyback," Voldemort said resolutely. "Rudolphus, take Sharpfang with you and patch him up. I want someone watching him at all times. We will talk more about this once Harry is feeling better."
The Death Eater nodded, turning to Fenrir to hand him two small vials. "The blue one is a Calming Draught," he said so softly that only Fenrir could hear him. "It would be good if Harry took it, but do not force the issue if he doesn't want to. The clear potion is a version of Dreamless Sleep. Again, do not pressure him into taking it, but give him the possibility."
Fenrir gave a sharp nod before he pulled Harry up into his arms, making sure that Harry could hide his face against his shoulder. With his precious bundle, he brushed past Malfoy and the witch Harry had talked with earlier, mentally cursing her and Voldemort for having detained him earlier, to get to the portal. Harry was still shivering and he could smell the salty scent of tears the stale one of cold sweat. He kept up his soothing murmurs and brushed fleeting kisses over Harry's brow all the way back to their pack.
"Would you feel better if your godfathers were near?" Fenrir asked as he gently bedded Harry on their furs, rubbing his thumb over Harry's cheeks to wipe away his tears.
"Yeah," Harry whispered shakily with tears streaming out from underneath his closed lids, but held onto Fenrir's hand with a death grip. "Don't leave."
"Hush, little one, no one's leaving," Fenrir murmured. "I'll just give them a holler, shall I? Here, let's cover your ears."
He moved his free hand and the hand Harry still was holding onto with both of his over the younger man's ears, holding them there with soft pressure before he let out a roaring howl to summon his pack. Harry needed all the support they could offer him and though Fenrir was still feeling the urge to hide Harry away and guard him jealously from everyone's touch but his own, he realised that this wouldn't help Harry to calm down and feel safe again.
Tristan and Chetan were the first to arrive, shortly followed by Remus and Sirius, Maya and Bryan and finally Sawyer, who had been on guard duty. Lin only cautiously peeked into their hut before hovering uncertainly at the door.
"What happened?" Sirius demanded in that tone that made Fenrir's hackles rise with its concern and accusation.
Fenrir growled softly, but allowed both Sirius and Remus to slip past him and to wrap themselves around their crying godson. They petted his hair and gradually soothed away his tears while Fenrir told his pack what had happened in a soft voice, hoping foolishly that Harry wouldn't have to hear.
There was, however, no chance that Harry didn't hear the reactions of his pack and the various furious howls and snarls, the angry curses, the cracking of knuckles and the dull tearing when Sawyer sank his elongated claws into the door frame. Harry sobbed and clutched desperately to Sirius' sweater and Fenrir's hand.
"Double the guards," Fenrir gave his orders. "Lin, Sawyer patrol around the huts, one of you counter-clockwise and the other clockwise. Meet every ten minutes and should anything seem strange or not quite right, raise the alarm immediately. I don't want even a leaf in my territory that doesn't belong there."
"Yes, Alpha." Sawyer nodded sharply, his voice still more like a growl than usual. But then instead of leaving after Lin, who had disappeared as soon as Fenrir had finished giving his orders, he crouched down behind Sirius and leaned over his shoulder to look at Harry.
"No one will get past me, Harry. We'll all make sure that you're safe." He reached out a hand to tousle Harry's wild hair before he pushed himself up.
Fenrir affectionately butted his nose against Sawyer's temple and nipped his neck in an admonishment to stay safe and then released the younger werewolf.
"Alpha?" Chetan sounded like the young boy that had been scared of the dark after a nightmare. "What can we do?"
"Just be there for him," Fenrir murmured, offering his hand to the younger werewolf and tugging him closer. "Remus, Sirius, one of you clean us up. Maya, make some tea or cocoa. Bryan, get under the fur, now, I don't want you falling ill again. And Tristan, get some more furs and then stand guard in front of this hut. We're sleeping here tonight."
Their immediate obedience calmed Fenrir slightly and allowed him to shake of the paranoia, anger and blind protectiveness he had been feeling until then. Remus reached for Sirius' wand - apparently he had left his own in his hut - and murmured a quick Cleaning Charm over Fenrir and Harry to get rid of all the blood and other substances that rightfully belonged inside a human body. He also, with a quick look for permission to Fenrir, changed Harry into a pair of pyjamas he hardly ever wore.
Fenrir grumbled in satisfaction and fitted Chetan under his arm before pulling Harry close to his chest, bringing Remus and Sirius with him. Bryan snuggled up to his back, his arms closing around his middle and his head resting comfortably between Fenrir's shoulder blades.
Harry was still crying, in absolute silence now, but his trembles had subsided, and Fenrir was willing to see that as progress. When Tristan and Maya returned, he shifted them all so that they were in sitting positions and could drink the cocoa Maya had made.
The green-eyed man's hands shook too much to hold a cup and Fenrir had to reach out quickly lest Harry spill the hot liquid all over himself. An angry half-sob erupted from Harry's throat, and he hit his fists hard against the floor.
"Easy there, moonlight," Fenrir grumbled, catching Harry's hands in one of his own to prevent any further attempts of self-harm. "It's okay, hush, look, it's okay. Our baby is fine and you'll get better as well. No harm will come to you while you're with me, sweet wizard."
Harry screamed in pain, curling his fingers around Fenrir's, and started to rock himself, wincing from time to time when a memory sliced through his mind like a poisoned knife. Fenrir's soothing growls had no effect on the distraught young man and when the Alpha tried to make Harry take the Calming Draught, the black-haired wizard panicked completely, wild magic fluctuating around him that shattered the fragile vial and almost knocked Fenrir back over. The silver-haired man refrained from suggesting the Dreamless Sleep Potion to Harry and just crooned into Harry's ear and held him and rubbed his arms and stomach while Harry cried himself into exhaustion.
Finally, Fenrir was able to tuck Harry safely under the furs before he bedded the head of pitch black hair in his lap, leaning his back against the wall of the hut. "Let's all try to get some sleep," he grumbled, brushing his knuckles softly over Chetan's cheek when he noticed how shaken the younger werewolf was. "It'll be alright, cub. No one will get away with hurting one of my pack."
"It's just... Harry, he knows that we wouldn't use him like that, doesn't he?" Chetan whispered, looking from Fenrir down at the sleeping man. "He knows that we care about him because of who he is and not because he's carrying your child, right?"
"I'm sure he knows," Fenrir replied, though he doubted the truth of that statement. "But if he doesn't yet, we'll tell him and make him understand as soon as he wakes up. Okay, cub?"
"Yeah." Chetan nodded, still looking a bit unsure, but gratefully leaned into the hand that carefully lowered him to rest next to Harry with his head lying on Fenrir's legs.
With Chetan and Harry both settled safely, Fenrir pulled Bryan a little closer, rubbing the older werewolf's neck soothingly and watched as he pulled Maya close to his chest, burying his nose in her soft white hair. When they were comfortable as well, he turned to the newest additions of his pack, finding that Sirius was staring wearily at him.
The Animagus lowered his eyes immediately in submission, but then glanced up shyly before leaning closer to his godson and pressing a tender kiss to his scarred forehead. "Sleep well, little prongslet, Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot are here to watch over you."
Sirius startled a little when a heavy hand landed on his neck and tightened in a gentle squeeze, not punishing or even just in warning but a simple but effective reassurance.
"Will you be alright with sleeping here, cub?" Fenrir asked, thinking that maybe Sirius wouldn't like to be crowded after what had happened to him in Azkaban.
A beaming smile spread over the black-haired man's face, wiping away years of torment and solitude and leaving in its place a handsome middle-aged man who loved his friends and enjoyed his life without a second thought. "As long as Moony and Harry are here, I'll be fine. Thank you, Alpha."
"Good," Fenrir answered, squeezing one last time before he withdrew his hand to allow Sirius and Remus to lie down, the werewolf spooning around his mate, who embraced Harry from behind. "Sleep."
And they did, for close to an hour at least until Harry woke with a blood-curling scream, trashing wildly and waking them all. Once again, they murmured soothing words into his ear and rubbed his arms and back, listening to the sobbed out descriptions of how helpless and used and degraded Harry had felt, of how angry and hurt he was for being treated like this and how much the thought of losing his baby or being dragged away still scared him.
Eventually he drifted off into restless sleep again, and Fenrir had to take several deep breaths at the sight of his small lover clutching desperately to his hand.
My oracle says, "You'll get lots of reviews."... No, actually, my oracle says, "Your expectations are too high." But hey, you can't always trust those things...