Disclaimer: See first chapter!

Author's Note: My head hurts. Thanks to 107602 (ah, no, he's not the sharing type) and lalaland (well, this chapter focuses on Harry and Fen again so I hope that's okay for you).

Warnings for this chapter: Lime/ Lemon. (I marked the beginnning and the end.)


53. THE MAGIC TOUCH

"That took you awfully long," Fenrir growled, pressing Harry back against the door of the hut Harry had just step out of to say goodbye to Draco and David.

He nudged Harry's head to the side to snuffle his neck, making sure that Harry didn't smell too much like the two Death Eaters. He wasn't happy with what he found, but he had never expected to be. Harry smelled very much like Travers, a little less like Malfoy, had soaked in their scent like a fucking sponge. Fenrir didn't like that. He pushed aside the collar of Harry's sweater and breathed a sigh of relief because underneath his clothes Harry still smelled like Harry and most of all like Fenrir.

"Michael's still sleeping," Harry commented, arching his neck to give Fenrir better access to his throat and moaning happily when the werewolf started to suck on his yaw. "That's good right? It doesn't mean that something is wrong or..."

"It just means that this day was as exhausting and exciting for him as it was for you." Fenrir titled Harry's chin up with one finger, to study his mark with satisfaction. "And that I have you all to myself, finally."

Harry laughed even as Fenrir unceremoniously manoeuvred him back into the hut and pressed him against the wall, his hands already going for Harry's zipper. "Eager much?"

"Shut up," Fenrir growled, jerking down Harry's jeans before focusing his attention on Harry's sweater. "You would have got sweet and gentle and romantic earlier, but now you reek too much of them."

Harry gave up arguing and since Fenrir's almost frenzied movements left little room for him to become more active, he rested himself more comfortably against the wall and observed his lover through hooded eyes.

"What now?" Fenrir asked in exasperation, noting Harry's lack of participation but still chucked Harry's sweater to the side.

"Didn't seem like you needed my input," Harry said with a lazy smirk. "You look like you have everything under control."

"Very funny," Fenrir grumbled, but then furrowed his brow a look of uncertainty crossing his face. "This... I'm mean I'm not forcing you, you know?"

Harry smiled gently up at the older man, tenderly framing Fenrir's rough face between his hands. "Wolfie, you'll always have my consent and if I should ever decide to withdraw it, I'll be sure to let you know. And I don't much care whether you want to make love or fuck me senseless because I just want to feel you again." Fenrir grinned, leaning back in. "But... I would like to have sip of water first, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Fenrir was quick to respond, smiling down at the slender man. "I'll go check in on Michael."

"You said he was fine!" Harry exclaimed, a bit of his old insecurity peaking back out.

"I'm sure he is," Fenrir appeased him, throwing a grin over his shoulder. "But sooner or later he'll need a change of nappies, and I'd rather do that now than when we're... busy."

Harry still seemed sceptical, but nodded a little and turned away to grab the bottle of water that had miraculously appeared on the window sill. Fenrir watched him for a moment longer, pale throat exposed as Harry tilted the bottle up to quench his thirst. Goddess, if Harry knew what he was doing to him! He quickly slipped into their son's room, which was lit by the last rays of sunlight, tinting everything with a red-golden hue.

Michael was sleeping peacefully; Fenrir could hear his soft, regular heartbeat, the small snuffles of air; he could smell that unique sweet baby smell, all happiness and contentment and an unbroken sense of basic trust; and as he stepped closer he saw his cub's rosy cheeks, the fine black hair, the pouty lips.

He kneeled down next to the crib, very, very carefully caressed his son's cheek and then leaned in to breathe a kiss onto his forehead, Michael's small breaths ghosting like an answering caress over his face. He rearranged the blanket a little, but there was nothing else for him to do. Harry had taken excellent care of their cub. And Fenrir felt a swell of pride in his chest, thinking of his little human and how much he had accomplished today. It was time that Harry received his reward.

Only that Harry was fast asleep when he stepped back into the main room. The young man had obviously got undressed, spreading out on their sleeping furs in what must have been intended as a seductive pose. But since Harry had a habit of curling up in his sleep, it now tended more towards adorable.

Fenrir sighed, long and heavy. This was not how he had envisioned his evening, and he was tempted to just wake Harry up and get their evening back on course. But he wasn't like that; he had never been like that. Harry was his pack, his responsibility, and Harry needed his sleep. Good Alphas didn't do selfish, they always put their pack's need before their own. He would let Harry sleep.

ö_ö_ö

"I have a surprise for you," Harry whispered in Fenrir's ear, wrapping his arms around the werewolf's waist from behind.

"Is that so, my little elusive one?" Fenrir asked, taking a hold of Harry's wrists and turning around in the circle of his arms.

"Mhm." Harry had a promising smirk on his face. "Two hours, all to ourselves."

Fenrir sighed, his features darkening slightly. "As much as I'd like that, we still have to look after Michael, Harry. Yesterday wasn't a one-time thing – you will have to take care of our son more."

"I know that," Harry protested and drew back in hurt. "I'm not trying to shirk my responsibilities, Fen. I never wanted that in the first place, I just didn't know how to deal. I know... I know I haven't taken care of Michael as much as I should have, but it wasn't for a lack of trying. I was always there."

"I didn't mean it like that, little wolf," Fenrir murmured, tugging Harry back into his arms and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I looked after Michael until now, while you were out hunting," Harry mumbled. "I fed him, I gave him a bath, I changed his nappies, I rocked him to sleep and soothed him when he cried. I didn't ask Remus or Maya for help once. He's asleep now, you know? I don't think he'll wake up any time soon, but just in case I asked the others to keep an ear open and check in on him from time to time... So...?"

"So I think we should take advantage of that." Fenrir grinned, drawing Harry closer against his chest and nuzzling his cheek. "And maybe I should take advantage of you."

Harry laughed, lifting up to press a kiss to Fenrir's lips and then pulling back slightly. "You can take advantage of me all you want, my Alpha, but my surprise is a bit more elaborate than that." Harry reached behind him, producing a single red rose and a black cloth.

Fenrir blinked in surprise. "You got me flowers? Did I miss something?"

"I hope you missed me." Harry smiled. "I know it's not our usual style, but I... I wanted to do something for you. To thank you. To apologise. You up for it?"

Fenrir had missed seeing Harry like this. Full of life, of mirth, of carefully hidden vulnerability. The Harry he had met in Azkaban, hurt and betrayed but always more concerned with Fenrir's and Travers' wellbeing than with his own, risking his life in the process and saving Fenrir's.

"I'm up for anything, my little love," he murmured softly, taking the rose and putting it close to his nose since that seemed to be the thing to do if one got regaled with flowers. "What's with the cloth?"

"It's a blindfold," Harry answered. "I don't want you to know where we're going."

"I'll be able to smell that," Fenrir pointed out gently. "I know every tree and every leaf in my territory. I know how the ground feels under my feet and how the air moves."

Harry bit his lip, pouting a little and Fenrir just had to lean down and kiss him. "I'll act surprised, if that helps."

"No, I have a plan B," Harry answered with a smirk, grasping Fenrir's forearms. "Hold on tightly."

Before Fenrir had the chance to protest, and he had had every intention of protesting because no way did he want to start his one-on-one time with Harry with the nasty feeling of being compressed into a Michael-sized package and being forced through a winding tube, Harry whisked them away.

"Dammit, silly wizard," Fenrir groused as he briefly lost his balance, almost toppling Harry to the ground. "Did you have to do that?"

"No, but think of all the time we just saved," Harry answered, leaning up to nibble on Fenrir's earlobe. "Time you can use to make me yours again."

"You've always been mine," Fenrir pointed out, but tilted his head slightly to give Harry room to kiss down his throat.

Harry hummed in agreement, feathering a few more kisses down the werewolf's neck and then drew back. "Do you like my surprise?"

Fenrir looked around himself, noting that they were at the little lake, a bit away from their clearing, but still within his territory. He had half expected to find himself in their usual spot, with the large bolder and the many steamy memories, but he wasn't too disappointed to find himself here instead. A new place to make new memories. There was a large pick-nick blanket that Fenrir had never seen before spread out on the soft grass, near the shingly shore, and next to it a huge basket which smelt rather appetising. Though not as appetising as Harry.

"You did all this, little wolf?" Fenrir demanded. "Even though I would have appreciated you and nothing else? Key word here being 'nothing'." He grinned lewdly, licking over Harry's cheek.

Harry rolled his eyes, laughed and melted into Fenrir's hold. "I know, but we always do that, right? You've been so good at humouring me these last few months – don't stop now."

"I wouldn't dream on it," Fenrir murmured. "But you'll humour me too, won't you, sweet little thing, and slip out of those unnecessary clothes so that I can taste your skin again."

"Of course, my Alpha," Harry whispered, reaching for his t-shirt and slowly, tantalisingly pulling it up, revealing centimetre for centimetre creamy white skin and slight muscles.

A low growl rumbled up in Fenrir's chest and when finally, finally Harry threw his t-shirt to the side he really didn't have any patience left for Harry to tease himself out of his jeans and underwear as well. He slung one arm around Harry's waist, unbuttoned the younger man's jeans with his free hand and jerked both them and Harry's underwear down the long legs before lifting Harry out of the pooling clothes. Harry huffed out a surprised laugh, but wrapped his legs around Fenrir's waist.

"And what about your clothes, wolfie?" he asked happily, swirling a finger teasingly around Fenrir's right nipple. "Won't be able to get out of them like this."

Fenrir grumbled unwillingly, struggling to keep a hold of Harry for a moment longer even as the younger man pressed away from him, but then set him down gently. He stared hungrily at Harry's pale body, how the milky skin shimmered in the sun like dewdrops in the morning, contrasting sharply with Harry's pitch black hair and distracting Fenrir from the many scars that littered the slender body. Harry smiled at him and it had been a while since he had seen that smile, full of love and promise, and then turned to look over the glittering surface of the lake.

The werewolf quickly slipped out of his worn jeans and stepped behind Harry, laying a careful arm around Harry's waist as if the younger man was still pregnant. "Later, sweet wolf. We'll take a swim later, yes? But for now it should be just us, no distractions."

"Just us," Harry repeated, leaning back against the werewolf and tilting his head to the side. "Sounds like it could be fun."

"Come on." Fenrir didn't know why he felt the need to be extra gentle with Harry today, why he felt that this time, more than any other, should be perfect and meaningful and special, but he carefully grasped the young wizard's hand and led him over to the chequered pick-nick blanket where he lay him down and began to explore the slim body with his lips and fingers.

- BEGINNING OF LEMON-

Harry made a soft mewling noise, his legs falling apart to accommodate Fenrir's larger body, and his eyelids fluttered erratically over luminescent green eyes. He reached up pale, long-fingered hands, gently framing Fenrir's face and pulling him down for a sensual kiss. Harry tasted sweeter than he remembered, chocolate from the hot beverage he liked to drink in a moment of quietude and peppermint from the toothpaste he used. Their tongues met eagerly, fighting for dominance before Harry yielded just enough for Fenrir to take the lead and take the brutality out of their kiss. He leisurely explored Harry's mouth for a while, tangling their tongues and licking over the row of Harry's teeth before he drew back a little and delivered gentle nips and licks to Harry's plump lips, eliciting excited moans. He then moved down Harry's throat, pulled his lips over his teeth when he came to his neck so as not to frighten his young lover.

"Fen," Harry whispered. "Please... please."

"Shh, little moonlight. Of course," Fenrir replied, gliding his hands down Harry's sides until they settled on his hips as Harry slung his right leg over his back.

Harry blindly reached behind him, fumbling for the basket and pulling out a bottle of massage oil that he handed over to the werewolf. Fenrir uncapped it quickly, suddenly impatient to be finally inside of Harry again, and squirted some of the oil into his hand. He slicked up his erection, coating it liberally in the oil, but then hesitated and looked in askance at Harry. He wanted, he needed, but Goddess, hurting Harry was the last thing he wanted to do.

"It's okay, just go slow." Harry smiled at him, cupping Fenrir's jaw in a sign of trust and protectiveness. "I won't break."

"I know, but tell me if..."

"I will," Harry interrupted, taking a hold of Fenrir's hips and urging him closer, blindly grasping the werewolf's erection and leading it to his entrance. "I want this too."

Fenrir grumbled, pressing a gruff kiss to Harry's lips, and lined up his erection properly, pushing just the tip of it past the tight, unstretched ring of muscles. A sharp intake of breath. And Harry's eyes fluttered for a second before opening wide, as he threw his head back.

"Goddess, so tight," Fenrir pressed out, wanting to just push all the way in, ravage that tight heat, fill Harry to the brim and force him to submit. But he would never do that, hurt Harry so carelessly or be more concerned with his own needs than with his lover's. So he kept perfectly still, only caressed lightly over Harry's thighs and waited until Harry's mimic relaxed again.

He thrust in a little more, earning himself another gasp, another half-pained moan, and stilled again. He could feel his muscles strain with the effort to keep immobile, his heart thumping quickly in his chest, his senses heightened to the maximum.

"Go on," Harry said softly; it sounded a little strained, more than a little breathless, but Harry's eyes told Fenrir that he meant it and that he was as excited about this as he was.

"Perfect," he growled, withdrawing and then pushing in a little further. "You're perfect."

"Likewise." Harry smiled, fisting his hands in the blanket and carefully moving his leg to adjust the angle of their joining. "Feels good... right."

"It'll feel even better in a little while," Fenrir grunted, pressing in deeper, daring to lean down for a distracting kiss. "My moonlight."

"Never knew why you call me that," Harry whispered and closed his eyes for a second. "Deeper, my Alpha, please."

"Because you bring out the best in me," Fenrir murmured and pushed in all the way; Harry screamed, roared really, his head trashing from side to side and his fingernails digging into the blanket and his own palms.

"Seems I bring out the beast in you, too." Harry laughed breathlessly. "No patience, big bad wolf."

"You said deeper," Fenrir defended himself, withdrawing just a little, and Harry groaned. "This would be easier if you were more relaxed."

Harry snorted and loosened his right hand from the blanket to instead grasp Fenrir's forearm, digging his fingernails into the tanned skin. "Thank you, I hadn't thought of that yet."

"Must you resort to sarcasm now, silly little thing?" Fenrir asked in exasperation. "I was only trying to help."

"Then move, but carefully," Harry demanded, his whole body arching off the ground when Fenrir gently rotated his hips, pulling slightly out of Harry before pushing all the way back in. "Gah!"

"This is too much for you," Fenrir observed, placing an apologetic kiss on Harry's lips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"No," Harry protested and slung his second leg over Fenrir's waist. "I want this. Please, Fen, won't break."

Fenrir didn't need much more convincing, just one look into Harry's warm, determined, trusting eyes, and he started to roll his hips a little. And Harry gasped and moaned, arched his neck, tilted his hips to allow him to penetrate even deeper. Winced from time to time. But it was okay, Harry was okay because he would always meet Fenrir's eyes afterwards and give him an encouraging nod and after a few more careful rotations, the werewolf's movement grew more bold, faster, harder, deeper until he was thrusting in and out of Harry with fast-paced regularity, his erection rubbing over Harry's pleasure spot and making both of them see stars.

"Fen," Harry pleaded, and Fenrir leaned down to press feverish kisses onto Harry's collarbone, over his chest, feeling the erratic heartbeat against his lips. "More. Almost there. Please."

Fenrir growled deeply, reaching out for Harry's neglected erection and began to stroke it leisurely, in contrast to his hard thrusts. Harry keened, running his fingers through Fenrir's hair and leaving bloody scratches on the werewolf's back. Fenrir howled as his orgasm crashed down over him and he pushed his face against Harry's neck, pressing the younger man hard against the ground and tightening his fist around Harry's erection. The black-haired wizard groaned, his body wanting to arch up as he was pushed over the edge, but Fenrir's massive form kept him well and truly pinned. After the tidal wave of pleasure had washed over him, he felt all strength desert him. He felt tired and sated and completely boneless and was quite content to just lay underneath Fenrir, feeling his come dry slowly between their bodies and glue them together like they were never again meant to be apart.

"You okay, little white one?" Fenrir's voice was slightly husky, gravely, but he rolled off of Harry with ease, gently gathering the smaller man to his chest and studying him attentively.

"'t was perfect," Harry mumbled, burrowing deeper in the shelter of Fenrir's embrace. "Can still feel you inside of me. All tingly and warm."

Fenrir grumbled to himself, slipping one of his hands between Harry's legs and tracing his thumb over Harry's sensitive entrance. The green-eyed man yelped in surprise, shuddered and then moaned happily, pressing back against the older man.

"Just checking if you're bleeding," Fenrir offered, bringing his hand back up to inspect his fingers for non-existent traces of blood.

- END OF LEMON -

"I'm not in pain," Harry muttered defiantly. "And I could think of a few better things you could do with your hands."

"I just bet," Fenrir replied in amusement, brushing his lips over the younger man's shoulder. "But let's rest for a minute longer, alright, sweet wolf? This is perfect, too."

"Hm, I suppose it is." Harry sighed blissfully, rolling around to peer up at the werewolf. "Thank you, Fen."

"You never have to thank me, sweet little human," Fenrir replied lovingly, kissing the corner of Harry's mouth. "Everything I do, I do because I want to, because you're worth it. It's no sacrifice on my part."

Harry smiled at that, but shook his head slowly. "Doesn't mean I shouldn't thank you."

"I have some ideas how you could do that." Fenrir smirked, rolling over Harry and rubbing their bodies together. "And guess what, you're in exactly the right position for most of them."

"Well then, wolfie." Harry laughed. "Let me thank you properly."

Fenrir growled happily when Harry arched up, his lithe body in sharp contrast to Fenrir's massive form, pale skin against Fenrir's tan, slight muscles and too little body fat against Fenrir's well-defined abs. He easily pushed Harry back down, ran one hand across Harry's once again flat stomach. Only a few weeks ago Harry's stomach had been rounded with a new life, perfect in its own right because of what it represented, but –

"Shit!" he suddenly cursed, jumping up and away from Harry. "Shit! Shit! Shit! No!"

"Fen?" Harry asked cautiously, sitting up and putting his arms around his legs. "Everything okay?"

"No, everything is not bloody well okay!" Fenrir all but roared, pacing up and down before he spotted his jeans and hastily picked them up, extracting something from the back pocket and showing it to Harry.

Harry needed a moment to make out what Fenrir was so furiously waving around. "Condoms?"

"We should have used them!" Fenrir shouted. "How could I be so careless?"

"You wanted to use condoms?" Harry asked carefully. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Fenrir demanded angrily, staring hard at the younger man. "You won't risk another pregnancy, you silly thing. It's too dangerous. Do you know how many times I thought I was going to lose you? I'm not going through that again!"

"Yes, I get that," Harry answered impatiently. "But I'm using contraception charms, so what's the big deal with the condoms?"

"You what?" Fenrir shouted, not sounding any les furious than before and Harry shrunk slightly away from him.

"I don't want to get pregnant again," Harry said softly, picking at his nails and not looking at Fenrir. "I know how risky it would be and honestly, being pregnant kind of freaked me out. I'm not too keen to repeat that experience any time soon. So I did a contraception charm. I thought you knew."

"How could I?" Fenrir asked, but breathed a sigh of relief and sat down opposite of Harry, grasping the younger man's ankles and drawing him between his own legs. "You didn't tell me."

"Remus showed me how to do it. He said he talked with you about using contraception and that you had agreed that it was a good idea," Harry explained, leaning his head against Fenrir's shoulder and peering up at the werewolf.

Fenrir barked out a laugh. "He did. He made me promise to use condoms from now on. Didn't say a peep about you using a magic trick, though."

Harry blinked in surprise and then laughed as well. "That little sneak! I guess he wanted to make double sure that we wouldn't give Michael a sibling. Good thinking – as it turns out you're not that reliable, wolfie." He grinned impishly and brushed a teasing kiss on the corner of Fenrir's mouth.

"You distracted me," Fenrir defended himself. "And your magic isn't the most reliable thing, either. I'll feel better if we use condoms."

"Remus had me practise that one charm for over an hour and he checked if I did it correctly," Harry murmured, hurt by Fenrir's comment even though he tried not to be. "There's no way I'll get pregnant again."

"This shouldn't be your responsibility alone," Fenrir grumbled, smoothing his hand down Harry's back. "And condoms are a form of contraception I can understand, something concrete, little moonlight. Your magic is just - "

"Volatile, I know that, believe me I know," Harry finished with a tired sigh.

"It's something that I can't quite grasp. Explain it to me," Fenrir demanded, feeling Harry's pulse against his lips when he pressed them against the black-haired man's temple.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, pressing his head back against Fenrir's shoulder. "They pushed me, during the war, they wanted me to realise my full potential and that as quickly as possible, so they pushed and challenged and trained me. It worked, I guess, my magic grew stronger until it almost seemed like there was no more a limit to what I could do. Then they threw me in Azkaban and I distracted myself by doing wandless magic and warded my cell against the Dementors... But then we got out and I went with you and I didn't use as much magic, and when I learned of Michael I confined my magic to protecting him. So it grew bored, restless, angry."

"But you did do magic from time to time," Fenrir pointed out. "You duelled with Travers and did those little tricks..."

"Exactly, Fen, they were only little tricks, child's play," Harry answered softly. "It could never have been enough and I thought if I just ignored it long enough it would settle down sooner or later. You know how that turned out." He snorted. "I don't know what Tom did with my magic, I don't really want to know, but he used it, let it out to play and now that it's back with me, it's not happy to be neglected again." He looked up at the werewolf pleadingly. "Fen, I know you don't like magic, but I can't continue like this. I can feel my magic churning inside of me, just waiting for me to loosen the reigns a little so that it can break free. And it scares me."

Fenrir tightened his hold on the young man, pressing a kiss into Harry's hair. "What do you want to do, little wizard? What does Voldemort do? He doesn't seem to be struggling so much to keep his magic in check."

"He claims that he simply has more self-control." Harry rolled his eyes to show how much he thought of that idea. "I think it's because he almost constantly uses his magic. Have you noticed how he sometimes twirls his wand between his fingers, sparks shooting from the tip? It may not seem like much, but I can feel his magic rushing out whenever he does that. Then there are the wards around his castle, the supervision charms on his Death Eaters, the protective bubbles around himself and me. Plus, I'm fairly sure he regularly blasts his office and rebuilds it afterwards. And I don't want to turn into him, Fen, but he was right when he said that I needed to do something with my life, with my magic."

"If you need to do more magic, around the pack and around me, I'm okay with that," Fenrir grumbled, surprised when Harry lightly shook his head.

"It's not only that I need to, wolfie. Tom would be delighted to relieve me of part of my magic so that I wouldn't have to worry about using enough. But my magic is a part of me, it's who I am and even though it scares me, it's also what makes me feel alive," Harry insisted, staring up at the werewolf. "I can figure this out. I'll duel more often with David or Tom, I'll put up stronger wards around the people I love and maybe blow up something when it gets too much. And once Michael is older I can get a job where I have to use my magic. But I was born with magic and so was Michael and I want you to accept that. Most wizarding children start to exhibit signs of accidental magic between the age of five and eight, and when that happens to Michael I don't want him to feel like there's something wrong with him because that's how the Dursleys made me feel. So I get that you're not all that comfortable with magic now, but you'll have to get over that. Please."

"I'll work on it, little human," Fenrir promised, gently grasping Harry's head between his hands. "And I'll start right now. We're far away from the others and you won't hurt me, so let go. Let me feel what's inside of you."

"I'm pretty sure you already felt that all." Harry grinned, but when he kissed the werewolf his eyes were gleaming with hope and gratitude.

Fenrir laughed. "I've no objections whatsoever to feeling you again, my sweet thing. I always discover something new about you."

"You sure?"

"Absolutely." Fenrir nodded. "But we'll still use condoms. I have to keep my promise to Remus."

"Alright, my Alpha," Harry teased, licking over Fenrir's lips, and gradually relaxing his hold on his magic, feeling the energy stream out of him, wafting off of him in playful waves; and Harry could see it dance around them in colourful swirls, cradling Harry as if he was a long-absent lover who had finally returned. It was warm and welcoming and forgiving, not as angry as he had half expected, and it rushed through him with lightning speed, leaving his muscles tingling and kicking all his senses into overdrive.

He gasped when Fenrir touched his wrist just lightly, sending a charge of electricity through his veins and making a kaleidoscope of colours explode in front of his closed eyes. "Harry," he heard, but his name was distorted, muted perhaps or maybe too loud, and he didn't know what to reply, how to reply, because there were so many sensations clamouring for his attention and he didn't know which sense to address first.

But suddenly there was a warm chest against his front, strong arms around his torso, and his magic calmed down until it didn't feel anymore like he was floating in an endless ocean without any dry land in sight. "You coming back to earth now, silly little human?" Fenrir's deep voice rumbled in his ear and Harry managed a dazed nod. "Good. I had expected that I would be a bit more involved in bringing about your orgasm, but this was kind of hot as well."

"What...?" Harry mumbled in confusion and Fenrir laughed, trailing his hand over Harry's stomach and thighs that had somehow become coated in sticky wetness. "Oh, sorry."

"It's okay. I enjoyed watching you." Fenrir smirked. pushing away a few strands of dark hair to kiss the nape of Harry's neck. "Look around you."

Harry lifted his head slowly, only then noticing that he was clinging to Fenrir's shoulders, and stared in awe at his surroundings. The blanket had changed colour and pattern, now sporting a multitude of different-sized, colourful circles on pristine white. The grass around them had grown almost to waist-height, flowers blossoming, leaves sprouting and a soft breeze rustling the blades of grass. Above that, residues of his magic were still lingering, painting rainbows into the sky and shooting up in playful sparks.

"Wow," he whispered, reaching inside him for his magic, wondering if there was still anything left and finding to his surprise that though calmed considerably his magical core was still filled to the brim, now resting contently in his chest, waiting for its next chance. "I didn't know this would happen."

Fenrir laughed, feeling almost a little giddy because no, he hadn't expected this either. Hadn't expected Harry's magic to reach out to him, enveloping him so very carefully as if conscious of his wariness but with every intention to make him a part of this; hadn't expected to see that expression of sheer bliss and freedom on Harry's face; hadn't expected that it would feel so good to have Harry trust him with that part of himself, even if he couldn't quite trust it yet. But he was going to get there, for Harry and for Michael. His little wizards.


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