Disclaimer: See first chapter!

Author's Note: It's barely noon and I already had a shitty day. That said, I probably didn't read and edit this chapter as carefully as I should have, so if you find any mistakes, feel free to keep them.
Thank you to mistiqueaniko (oh, good, I wasn't sure :)), Sofia Ottoman (why is that so surprising?) and 107602 (I hope there'll be some more in this chapter:)).


54. HERE AND NOW

"Fen?" Fenrir stared down at his lover in surprise, having expected him to still be fast asleep after their latest round of love-making. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"Of course I do," Fenrir grumbled, brushing a few strands of damp hair out of Harry's face. "Try to get some sleep, little one. You'll need your energy tonight."

"No," Harry protested, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "I... I've got an offer to make."

Fenrir sat up as well, looking at Harry with curiosity and a bit of wariness. "An offer?"

Harry took a deep breath, then spoke very quickly. "I'll submit to you tonight, during the full moon, if you want me to."

"What?" Fenrir barked, scolding himself when Harry winced at the harsh tone. "I meant... what?"

"You've always wanted me to submit, right? It's not like you hide it very well, even though you haven't made an issue out of it recently, which I appreciate, by the way." Harry was still speaking hastily, obviously nervous and unwilling to meet Fenrir's questioning gaze. "So I'll submit to you. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Have you spoken with Remus?" Fenrir asked suspiciously.

"Remus has nothing to do with it," Harry replied earnestly, finally looking up. "I know I messed up your ordered pack life by refusing to accept you as my Alpha. I'm sorry for that and I don't want that anymore. I love you, I trust you, I respect you."

"So you have spoken to Remus," Fenrir stated, sighing heavily.

"No, actually I didn't." Harry furrowed his brow and cocked his head. "What is it? Did I make another mistake? Have I offended you? I'm sorry, I just thought you'd be happy..."

"Harry, no, I'm not offended, come here for a moment," Fenrir demanded, opening his arms for the younger man. "Thought this up yourself, did you?"

"I don't understand why that's a problem," Harry argued. "Should I have waited until you made another move?"

"Well, yes, generally, you allow your Alpha to take the lead." The werewolf grinned, licking over Harry's lips. "But I just want to know, is this your decision? Is this really what you want?"

"Yes." Harry nodded, narrowing his eyes. "What is going on? What could Remus have told me? Fen?"

"Maybe that it would be safer for you to submit to me," Fenrir replied after a moment's hesitation. "You're not pregnant anymore, Harry, and if one of the others wanted to challenge your position, they now could."

"They'll attack me?" Harry asked incredulously, pushing away from the werewolf.

"I doubt they will," Fenrir tried to appease him. "But you have to realise that you submitting to Remus and Lin, but not to the rest of us, might be cause for some raised hackles."

"What? But..." Harry shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"They won't hurt you, sweet one," Fenrir insisted, framing Harry's face between his large hands. "The first one who tries will have to deal with me and they won't try again. You're safe, I promise."

"That's not the point, Fen," Harry whispered. "If they only bided their time to show me my place..."

"I know, little human," Fenrir murmured, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead. "And that's why it's unlikely that they'll even try. It's not like half a year ago, you're part of the pack now. They've accepted you."

"But?" Harry prompted, seeing the hesitation in Fenrir's eyes.

"I'm telling you this because you freely offered to submit to me, little moonlight, and you can still change your mind." Fenrir pecked Harry's lips in a short kiss. "I only want your submission if you're willing to give it, for no other reason, do you understand?"

"I wouldn't have offered if I thought you'd take it by force otherwise," Harry whispered, grasping Fenrir's hand tightly. "But now I'd really like to know what's going on, wolfie, because frankly all this mystery mongering is making me nervous."

Fenrir grinned a little and then nodded as if he'd come to a decision. "If you accept me as your Alpha, I can formally accept you into my pack. You have a place here, and you always will, my little one, but I cannot recognise you as... as long as you haven't recognised me as your Alpha."

Harry bit his lip in thought, sighing heavily. "I've been really making a mess of things, haven't I? I should have thought about all of this earlier instead of making life difficult for you with my ignorance. I'm sorry, Fen, I'll submit to you and the others."

A warning growl rumbled up in Fenrir's chest and his incisors lengthened threateningly. "No. Not to the others, just to me. You're mine!"

"That's very touching, wolfie, but - "

An angry roar drowned out the rest of his sentence and before he could gather his thoughts about him again, Fenrir had pressed him into the furs, one heavy hand resting on his ribcage and yellow eyes glaring furiously into his.

"To no one but me," Fenrir growled, nudging Harry's chin out of the way to get to his fragile throat, but then seemed to get a hold of himself and drew away again, relaxing his grasp on Harry and allowing the younger man to take a deep, gasping breath. "You mustn't say something like that, little wolf," he murmured apologetically, licking over Harry's cheek and tasting a drop of salty wetness. "There're different kinds of submitting and you will never submit to any of them like you'll submit to me."

"Merlin, you're going to fuck me?" Harry asked unhappily. "While we're in wolf form? In front of the others? Oh, hell no..."

"No, Harry." Fenrir relaxed completely, grinning mockingly. "You have a very dirty mind, my naughty little human, but no, that is not the plan."

"Then what the fuck is? Would you just damn well spit it out instead of hinting and growling and losing your temper?" Harry demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Have it your way, beautiful little thing." Fenrir smirked. "You will submit to me, by which you'll acknowledge my authority and concede me the right to do with you whatever I see fit. I'll see fit to make you my mate, giving you the second-highest standing in my pack and an untouchable and unchallengeable position."

"Oh," Harry breathed out, wrapping his arms loosely around Fenrir's neck. "Your mate? Is that like... That's sounds serious."

Fenrir laughed softly, dropping back onto the furs and pulling Harry onto his chest. "It kind of is. It's the most serious commitment in werewolf packs, thus why you will be very high in the pack hierarchy."

"Will things be different?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Because I kind of like how it works now."

"Not much," Fenrir shrugged. "They won't change if you don't change."

"What about us? Will we be different?" Harry asked, resting his cheek over Fenrir's heart.

"I've considered you my mate for a long time now, sweet little wolf." Fenrir tenderly carded his fingers through Harry's wild hair. "And I always knew that I was your Alpha."

"Smug bastard," Harry grumbled and Fenrir broke out into laughter.

"I have every reason to be." Fenrir grinned. "After all, as my mate it is your duty to keep me happy and satisfied and I have the most delectable ideas what I'm going to do with you."

Harry's face lit up with a teasing smile. "And I'll look forward to that, but I haven't submitted to you yet and I'm afraid Michael will want to be fed soon, my big bad wolf, so the only idea that we're going to follow through with right now is to get dressed."

Fenrir groaned, thumping his head back and staring up at Harry beseechingly. "Michael's still asleep and Goddess, you smell too good."

Harry chuckled, leaning down for a quick kiss before sitting up and reaching for his discarded clothes. "You told me to take responsibility. Just following orders, my Alpha, just following orders."

The werewolf growled testily, just earning him another chuckle and his jeans flying in his direction. "You vengeful little tease, I knew I was going to regret having said that."

Harry's laugh rang out loud and clear and his eyes sparkled with mirth and untold pleasures, with a promise that would have to wait to be fulfilled. He felt an irrational rush of anger at Harry's clothes that dared to cover up that pale, perfect body – his perfect body – signalling the end of their one-on-one time where Harry had been his and his alone. He sighed heavily.

"You ready for tonight?" he asked, absently reaching his for his jeans even though all his senses were still focused on Harry. "You're first full moon with Michael."

Harry bit his lip, then shrugged. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I guess. I put some blankets aside and have some bottles on a permanent warming charm. I wasn't sure if those could be harmful but I asked Healer Lestrange and he said they're fine to use. And I warded the area around the portal so if – What is it? Why are you looking at me like - ? Geez, it's just a precaution, Fen, not as if I expect there to be any problems and the ward's completely harmless, you just won't be able to pass through in wolf form, but it won't hurt you. As if I would take the risk with Michael..."

"It's not about the ward," Fenrir interrupted. "Come here, little wolf."

"Nu uh, Fen, forget it, no more sex," Harry protested, crossing his arms over his chest and remaining where he was.

"I don't want to have sex!"

"Since when?" Harry challenged, still not budging.

"Since I've got something to tell you," Fenrir answered with another sigh, holding his hand out to Harry, "which does not involve the wards. So would you please just sit down?"

"I won't like whatever you've got to say, will I?" Harry demanded rhetorically, but sank back down on the furs, facing Fenrir and reaching for his hand for support.

"We won't need the bottles," Fenrir all but blurted out, grasping Harry's hand more tightly than was comfortable for the younger man.

Harry furrowed his brow. "Michael will be hungry, Fen. I don't think... You can't feed him meat yet, can you?"

"No, but..." Fenrir ran a hand through his hair, frustrated when his fingers snagged on a knot. "Promise me you won't be upset?"

"I can hardly promise you something like that," Harry pointed out reasonably, though to Fenrir's ears he also sounded a little rueful as if he dearly wished he could make such a promise. "I'm not that good at controlling my emotions. If there is something to be upset about, chances are that I'll be upset."

"Then promise that you won't run away," Fenrir left out the "again," but he wasn't foolish enough to believe that Harry hadn't heard it anyway.

Harry huffed unhappily. "I'd like to think that I've moved past that, wolfie, and I'd really like to move past this sad version of foreplay. What did you want to tell me?"

Fenrir studied Harry carefully for a moment, trying to determine if Harry was really up to hearing this and simultaneously attempting to come up with a good reason why he shouldn't tell him. "Michael won't need the bottled milk," he finally said, "because in wolf packs not only the parents feel responsible for their cub. Everyone takes care of the little one and it's not unusual that female wolves other than the mother also lactate and help feed the cub."

Harry stared intently at him, and he stared back, pleading with his eyes for Harry to understand and be happy about this, because wasn't this better than somehow trying to get an overeager wolf cub to suckle on a plastic bottle? Then Harry's eyes clouded over and he disentangled his hand from Fenrir's and got up, away. Of course, Harry wouldn't be happy, Fenrir had known that from the very beginning.

"Little one... I wanted to tell you before but it never seemed to be the right time," Fenrir offered, earning himself a vicious glare.

"And you thought to tell me this now? Half an hour before moonrise?" Harry snapped, pacing in agitation. "Thanks a lot. Great timing, really."

"I knew you'd be upset," Fenrir said, keeping his eyes on Harry just to make sure that Harry wouldn't run away. "I just didn't want to add this to your plate. None of us thought this could happen, not even Maya. You know how much she always wanted children."

"Michael is not her son," Harry hissed dangerously. "And she didn't have to go through a damn male pregnancy or through almost being kidnapped or through fucking giving birth!"

"No-one's taking our cub away from you," Fenrir tried to soothe him and was met with a stony silence. "And no-one's discounting what you went through or how much you sacrificed for Michael..."

"I don't want an award, Fenrir!" Harry snapped. "I just want life to be fair for once. Either that or I at least want to be able to feel upset and hurt and angry, but I can't, can I? Because you didn't plan this and Maya doesn't do it out of spite and Michael will get his milk and..."

"... and you're still his papa," Fenrir concluded gently. "Being a parent has very little to do with giving him food or changing his nappies and everything with protecting him when he's scared, rejoicing with him when he's happy and showing him the way when he's lost. You'll do all that, my silly little wolf, let Maya have this one thing, once a month."

Harry sighed, still clearly unhappy but no longer with that quiet despair surrounding him like an invisible force-field. "I just... I need time to wrap my head around this. I'm going to take a shower."

"Harry..."

"I'll see you in half an hour," Harry muttered softly and slipped out of the hut; Fenrir felt like he had just kicked several puppies.

"I'm fine," Harry mumbled before Fenrir could pose the question for that very answer. "Can I hold Michael for a moment?"

"Of course," Fenrir agreed readily, handing the carefully wrapped bundle of little werewolf over to the younger man. "Would you like to give him his bottle?"

"You don't have to appease me, Fen," Harry answered with a wry grin. "I'm not going to throw a temper tantrum or break into tears. I'm fine."

"I fed him before moonrise last time as well," Fenrir explained, reaching out to push a few strands of hair out of Harry's face. "The transformation takes a lot of energy and we'd normally be feeding him around now anyway. So go ahead, Dobby already heated a bottle for him."

"Thanks," Harry whispered, accepting the bottle and smiling, a bit embarrassed, at the older man. "I appreciate what you told me earlier and despite everything, I'm really looking forward to tonight."

"So am I, sweet little wolf," Fenrir agreed, gently easing Harry between his legs and peering over his shoulder at Michael contently suckling his bottle. "You still sure about what we discussed? It's okay if you changed your mind, I just need to know."

"Nothing has changed," Harry murmured, catching a drop of milk on his finger that had escaped Michael's eager slurps. "You're my Alpha."

Fenrir grumbled in pleasure, rubbing his nose against Harry's neck and inhaling his unique scent, feeling the soft thumping of Harry's blood under the fragile skin. Harry's small sigh and the almost imperceptible relaxation of tense muscles made him smile, even as he felt his own muscles start to tingle as a warning that the moon would soon rise

"Give Michael to me and get ready to change," he ordered in a low voice, waiting until Harry had banished the empty milk bottle before he took their son from Harry's arms and gently slipped him out of his playsuit and even his nappies.

Harry also got undressed, quickly because he was aware of the rest of the pack being gathered around them as they waited for the moon to rise. He self-consciously held his clothes in front of his privates, something that Fenrir found incredibly endearing, and when Maya approached with an encouraging smile and held out her hand to collect Harry's clothes, the young man handed them over and then hurriedly turned away.

Harry's shifting was smooth and effortless, pale skin giving way to soft white fur, the black markings around his eyes making their green depths glimmer even more brightly and a pinkish tongue lolling out between sharp teeth. Fenrir instinctively held out a hand, longing to run his fingers through the fine white hairs, and laughed softly when Harry put his front paws on his leg, licking a wet stripe over the left side of his face before carefully sniffing Michael. A questioning whimper escaped the small white canine, before he tenderly brushed his black nose over Michael's cheek. Michael gurgled happily, one of his tiny hands reaching up and bumping against Harry's yaw.

Harry's muzzle spread in a wolfish smile, happily thumping his tail when Fenrir ruffled the fur behind his ear. Fenrir smoothed his large hand down Harry's back, petting at first before he gradually increased the pressure to make Harry lay down at his feet. When Harry was situated, he carefully placed their son against Harry's belly, tugging the blue baby blanket open so that it wouldn't hinder their cub when he transformed.

By now, Fenrir could feel his blood rush faster through his veins, his senses expanding, his skin prickling as the first rays of moonlight caressed his form. Michael was moving restlessly against Harry and from the last time Fenrir knew that the small cub would be the first to change. Even though, he had a moment of gratefulness when Sirius also shifted into his canine form, joining Harry and acting as a shield between his son and any overzealous werewolves, before his own transformation swept him up in a sea of sensations that commanded his undivided attention even if he wanted to keep watch over his son. But Harry was keeping both eyes firmly on Michael for now, he trusted that.

Harry was gently licking their son's belly, purring and whimpering soothingly, nudging the blanket away from Michael when it twisted around his ankle. There was a gurgle that sounded more like a whimper and Harry made a sound of distress, licking more frantically over Michael's nude body until he could taste fur on his tongue and still soft claws scratched against his chest. Harry hadn't realised that he had closed his eyes, but when he opened them again he was looking right into the warm yellow eyes of a happy wolf cub.

Before he had time to really come to grips with this, Michael shot up, bouncing against Harry's legs, not in the least the deterred when the force of the impact made him fall back on his behind. Harry whimpered worriedly, gently nudging Michael back to his feet and licking over his muzzle. The young wolf purred in pleasure, once again bumping against Harry as he tried to get closer, taking in Harry's scent and looking at him with wide, trusting eyes.

Harry felt something swell in his chest before Fenrir's summoning howl interrupted the moment and pulled him out of his own little world where only he and his son existed. Michael yipped excitedly, his small paws thrumming on the grassy ground as he raced over to Fenrir, careening right into the much larger Alpha werewolf. Fenrir acknowledged that with an indulgent wolf smile, running his tongue over his son's head, and rumbling good-naturedly when Michael jumped up, trying to snatch for his ear.

Harry approached at a more sedate pace, taking the time to study his son in this form. Michael's fur was black as the darkest night, but more plushy than Fenrir's sleek silver coat and his ears looked unproportionally small on his rounded head, his paws too big for his short legs. Harry had a hard time reconciling this little whirlwind of fur, energy and happiness with the hopefully happy, but mostly sleepy version of his son. It wasn't that he hadn't believed the others when they had told him that Michael was more advanced in this form and, intellectually at least, he had understood Remus' explanations that wolf cubs developed differently than human babies, that Michael's werewolf form had had months more to develop in his belly than a normal wolf baby would have had. But hearing about it and seeing it with his own eyes were two completely different things.

There was a sharp pang in the vicinity of his heart because somehow he had missed a part of his son's growing up and it felt strangely like betrayal, like... – but he wouldn't go down that road again. Not again. And he couldn't really think of the pregnancy in those terms, but if he closed his eyes for just a second or two and pretended that it didn't weird him out as much as it did, he could almost be a little smug because he'd known Michael before Maya or Fenrir, had shared experiences with his little boy that they never could, never would. He wasn't wolf enough to truly embrace this possessive streak or the urge to protect and shelter and hide away, but he was dad enough that he could enjoy the first full moon with his son even while worrying and fretting over all the things that had or could go wrong.

He trotted up to Fenrir, bumping his shoulder against the Alpha's leg and then turned back to observing his son, who was bounding between the other pack members, snatching for tails and ears, pawing their strong legs and purring happily whenever one of them leaned down to give him an affectionate lick. Fenrir was looking at him now, with fondness and pride and understanding, and Harry tilted his head up to lick over Fenrir's cheek to show that he was okay.

The others gathered around them, Michael still safely in the middle though his attention had now been captured by a cricket that was balancing easily on a blade of grass. Its chirping seemed to fascinate the little werewolf, who had pressed his belly into the ground and was inching closer and closer to the insect, his nose twitching in an effort to categorise this new scent. Something startled the cricket and it hopped onto a dandelion leaf a bit further away. Michael whined in confusion, but then spied his next prey, his eyes fixing on Chetan, who, Harry was sure, was swishing his tail on purpose.

He watched the two werewolves play for a moment longer, making sure that Chetan wasn't too rough with his son and that their tussling didn't get out of hand. But then he turned to Fenrir, meeting his eyes in silent agreement, yipped softly and then dropped to the ground.

A happy howl rumbled up in Fenrir's broad chest and he gently caressed Harry's cheek with his nose before stepping over the wolf Animagus and pushing him carefully onto his back, exposing his soft belly and his fragile throat. Fenrir stared into Harry's black-rimmed eyes, inexplicably glad that Harry wasn't avoiding his gaze even though it would have been the proper thing to do when one was submitting to a pack's Alpha. But this was still Harry, and he didn't want to change that. So he closed his teeth delicately over the white wolf's throat, a barely there nip, took a deep sniff of Harry's scent and let himself drop, burying the smaller canine under his body. Harry half-whined, half-purred, twisting under him to get more comfortable, but then relaxed and submitted to Fenrir's licking exploration and claiming of his body.

Then there was suddenly a small weight On Fenrir's back and he could feel Michael gnawing on his ear, growling belligerently and shaking his head as if intended to pull the ear off. Fenrir got up carefully, aware of the little wolf hanging from his back and then gingerly shook himself, making Michael tumble down next to Harry. Michael wasn't disturbed in the least, barking happily as he tackled Harry, worming his way between Harry's legs and snuffling his little nose in Harry's fur.

And Michael seemed to find that place exceedingly comfortable because instead of squirming and snatching and bouncing, he settled down and whimpered happily when Harry curled up around him, protective and loving and with paternal instinct written in every line of his body. When Michael's breathing evened out to sleepy puffs and his eyes drifted close in slumber, Harry seemed to relax as well, and Fenrir knew that though the rest of the night probably wouldn't go without a bit of hurt for Harry, this here, this very moment, was perfection.


Sniff, that's it, folks. This was the last chapter. There'll still be an epilogue so if you have any urgent questions that you still want to have answered, now would be a great time to tell me about them...