The Big Bad
Chapter 27
Harry and Peter followed the rest of the pack on its heels. Not because they didn't want to follow, but to ensure everyone knew that Derek (The Alpha) trusted them at their back, to see to it that they were safe from any and all threats that come there way. Derek had Stiles next to him, whether it was a conscious decision or not, it screamed that Stiles was the second in command, or better yet a possible Alpha mate. Nobody knew until they were introduced properly in an official setting, and the Hale pack hadn't been doing much of that since the fire.
"We're going to go and get some food; we'll be back shortly." Peter stated, staring at the food truck, that positively glowed with runes. He knew if they stayed until closing, they'd actually see the food truck pack itself away…like a transformer. He'd seen it once, the rune played out, and it was mesmerising to see.
Harry's gaze followed him, humming softly, "Nothing beats food magically made," agreeing with Peter's suggestion. They weren't greasy for one thing, and didn't have any nasty aftertastes other food has. It's why he preferred cooking his own meals, and only took takeout's when he had something more pressing to concern himself with.
"Agreed," Peter replied, and it wasn't an agreement born over the fact he'd hardly ate anything for six years then lived off of Jell-0 if he ever saw another cup of that it would be too soon.
"Text Peter what you'd like," Harry told the rest of the group, his intense purple gaze eyeing them all critically before he moved in the direction of the truck. The line was quite long, but each person was leaving quite quickly, the beauty of magic, it was so quick and effortless.
Harry laughed when Peter's phone went off with rapid buzzes and dings as the others messaged Peter what they wanted.
Peter gave him a bland look, "Not funny." His tone droll.
"I think it is," Harry said with a wicked smirk, "They're a good bunch, you could do a hell of a lot worse." As they started walking downhill, the sound of the festival loud to their ears, but when they consciously didn't listen, all became background chatter.
Peter glanced back behind him; his perfect eyesight able to see where his pack was even before his nose. "True," and it was he deduced, without Scott McCall, it truly was the almost perfect pack. The only thing making it lack that perfectness was the smallness of said pack. To reach the greatness that the Hale pack was known for, they needed bigger numbers, preferably blood Hales, the next generation. That rested on the shoulders of Derek and Cora he was afraid.
"It took a decade and devastation before I got to spend time with your pack," Harry said, gazing back at the pack much like Peter was. "It's not how pack was meant to be especially when it came to mates." There was a sadness lurking there, a resigned sadness.
Derek's red gaze blazed as he stared at Harry, before they blinked away in place of a more human colour. Then he turned his attention back onto his pack – likely Stiles talking away a mile a minute as he haggled for the best price for his items – but there was a tenseness to Derek that hadn't been there before. It was clear part of him wanted to defend his mother, his Alpha, his pack – the pack he'd doomed to die for his actions – but knowing he was right, made him feel deeply hurt and conflicted.
"Don't," Peter murmured, "Derek reveres his mother, to this day, I don't think he realizes just how worried or scared she always was. Trying to make deals peacefully against werewolves is no easy feat, in fact, it was in essence impossible except a few packs that already preached and practiced peace."
"Changing your tune," Harry told him, as they moved three paces as the lines shortened. "You feeling alright?"
"Just the opposite, I feel more myself now than I have in years," Peter murmured, unaware that Derek could hear every word they were discussing. Unaware of the fact that Stiles had given Derek a gift that expanded on his hearing range, blasting through anything that could muffle sound full stop. "Truthfully, I don't want to see him become self-conscious, using his mother as his moral compass makes Derek proud. He has the urge to fight (as reluctant as it is) he will do what he must. Talia had myself and her husband for any…distasteful task that might crop up." She could keep her hands clean, which wasn't a good look for an Alpha, in all honesty. Despite that Talia had been very well respected thanks to her brother's almost feral reputation.
"Does Derek even know that she was able to keep her hands clean because of you?" Harry asked, realizing he'd asked this before, admittedly not quite the same way.
"Derek's smarter than he looks, he knows," Peter replied, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he knew. Although, if he wished to bury his head in the sand, he would be good at that too.
Harry hummed, three to go before they could get some food, he had meant it when he said he was famished.
"They have curly fries, Stiles will be ecstatic," Peter murmured, reading the menu that was available on the side of the truck. "Without grease they might be more palatable." Musing over the idea of getting a set, ignoring those actually ordering from the… what on earth was that? "What kind of…creature is that?" dumbfounded.
Harry casually looked up, cocking his head to the side, "I believe he has High elves and a Banshee in his family line." His hair was shocking white, and shaved, his pointy ears were showing through, and unlike High elves which were naturally pale, this man was definitely not. Whether it was due to another creature inheritance, the race or even a tan, he didn't know.
"He has the hair, I always thought that only females turned…" Peter replied, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. Which didn't happen to Peter often, since he was such an avid reader, he knew a lot, and when the occasion rose where he didn't know? He made sure it didn't happen again and read everything pertaining to that subject.
"He's not a full banshee," Harry confirmed, "With magic in the mix though? It's actually possible for a male to become a banshee. I wouldn't rule it out certainly."
"Fascinating," Peter murmured, "I've only read information about Banshees from a supernatural perspective, is there any information about magical banshees?"
"There likely is," Harry shrugged, "This is exactly the place to find it out of everywhere." This place was swathed in magical and supernatural, druid and witches and wizards and all manners of creatures.
"I haven't come across any books yet," Peter said, suddenly paying far more attention to his surroundings than before. There was nothing he loved more than books, well, except reading them of course. "Let alone one of that nature."
"Bear in mind that most of them are speculation," the vendor stated, causing Peter to realize he had heard their conversation.
"My apologies if I have caused offense," Peter said, hand to his heart and inclining his head, sincere in his apology.
"No apology necessary," the vendor replied, a laidback smile on his face, entirely unbothered by his curiosity. He had been polite about it, and that was all that mattered. He'd heard far worse by people, he served in the Muggle world, usually with a hat on so they couldn't see his ears but they still commented on everything else. He had an aura that proclaimed that he was different even if the Muggles couldn't figure it out. "Head to the east side, there will be someone that looks like me, his name is Brian, he's my brother, he'll have the kind of books you need."
"East you say?" Peter asked, narrowing his gaze in that direction. Already desiring to head off and find the books that had been promised to him.
"Yes, you won't miss it," the vendor promised. "Now what can I get you? Sitting in or taking away?" quirking his lips, already suspecting he knew the answer to the last one.
Harry laughed, "Take away, burger and chips for me, and everything on this list," he showed him Peter's phone and slowly scrolled up the messages.
"You have the ability to retain information you've collected?" Peter asked, he'd feel envious if he didn't have the gift himself, although likely not to this mans standards.
"All High elves have the capacity to retrain all information we read. I was lucky enough to gain that gift, not everyone gains the same one." He explained, already gathering everything they'd requested, as it magically piled up at the side of the truck.
"Does that include magic? And is it similar to magical witchcraft?" Peter questioned, as always, eager to know more about any subject that interested him.
"That I'm afraid I couldn't possibly answer." He said ruefully.
"Wizardkind relative?" Harry deduced.
"Yes, my father," he informed him, "We all gained magic of some capacity, but whether it's witchcraft as you called it or High elves it's not known. Magic has the tendency to take on many varied forms."
"Meaning it might look like one magic but be another?" Peter asked in utter fascination.
"Exactly," the vendors voice was slightly muffled, speaking while getting everything done. "You'll find a lot of books there to your liking." He added, "What will you be having? We have some Beef Ragu, prime cuts. Here, give it a try!" scooping a small amount onto a small plastic tub and handing it out.
Peter tried a bit, and the burst of flavour was amazing, he'd had Beef Ragu before, but this? Was amazing and he had been in many five-star restaurants. "Make that… five portions two with preservation charms, if you do them. This is quite frankly the best Beef Ragu I've ever tasted." Complimenting the chef who most definitely earned it.
"Thank you," gracefully accepting the compliments in it's intended fashion.
"The Ragu is really amazing, it's worthy of being in a five-star restaurant, what money do you accept?" Peter asked, realizing he might not be able to give him American Dollars.
"Galleons and American Dollars," the vendor informed him, "Would you like a bag?"
"Yes please," Harry replied, barely finished before the vendor was levitating all the food boxes into the bag and floated it towards them.
Peter handed over five one-hundred-dollar bills, he wouldn't hear of taking any of it back. "Good food is worth paying every penny that its worth."
Harry inclined his head, before they moved off, since the line continued on after them. He was going to do rather well for himself today. Peter carried the bag filled with all their food, as they made their way uphill.
"We definitely have to visit his brother, I hope he has the book I'd like to read," Peter said, and the many others he would be buying no doubt. He'd lost all his books in the fire, well, not all of them, since many had been in the vault. It was time to start rebuilding, properly this time.
"Most likely, you'll need to hide them from Stiles," Harry said teasingly, his lips twitching into a smirk, when Stiles predictably reacted, despite the fact, as a human he shouldn't have been able to hear them yet. "Don't you know it's not polite to eavesdrop?"
"I ain't dropping no eaves, Sir," Stiles protested, causing the others to laugh in amusement. Naturally, they got exactly what Stiles was referring to. Samwise Gamgee's words to Gandalf in Lord of The Rings, The Fellowship of The Ring. Even Peter found the entire thing entertaining, but he'd read the books long before they gained a mass following with the movies.
Harry naturally hadn't read the books or seen the movies; he was enormously behind on pop culture.
"I'll explain later," Peter told Harry, as they approached the pack, they all gave Harry curious looks, wondering why he didn't get it. Someone as young as Harry should, but they glanced at one another before shrugging in response to his unfamiliarity.
"CURLY FRIES!" Stiles practically shrieked, as he opened his box to find the precious life sustaining food (or so Stiles claimed them to be) he loved so much.
Everyone collectively winced, the loudness was almost deafening.
Cora glanced curiously at the food she could smell in the bag, "What's up with that?" she asked, it wasn't usual that they got extra food, not unless they were injured and none of them were. Had Harry been lying when he said he didn't need more food when he performed magic? Throw people off? They had been in public after all.
It wasn't something you kept from pack though, and Cora knew this far better than Derek since she'd been part of a real pack after losing her birth pack. She knew what it was like to lose everyone, and she would fight tooth and claw to get them back, she'd become stronger, determined. While Laura and Derek crumbled, but Cora had been younger, there was always going to be that ability to bounce back in a way her older siblings could not.
"Want a taste?" Peter offered her to pilfer from his own food, other than Cora and Derek the only other person he'd let take this delicious food was Harry. "We're heading to find some books due East." Pointing in the direction of east as if they didn't know.
"Books?" Stiles perked up followed by Lydia immediately after.
Jackson and Derek both groaned simultaneously, and honestly, they wouldn't have been heard if they weren't amongst a group of supernatural's with magnificent hearing.
"I see you've been quite successful," Peter pointed to the blanket that was now more than half empty of items, and the bag which had been more or less full, now half empty and sagging without items. "How much have you made?" truly curious. "Discounting how much you paid for the items originally." He knew Stiles had probably already calculated exactly how much he'd made already. His intelligence was part of why Peter regretted not biting him instead of McCall. That particular problem was solved, thankfully.
"One thousand and five hundred," Stiles said smugly, "Although, I doubt it's anywhere near enough for everything I want to do with it today." Pouting a little, but good naturally, he made his own way in life, he didn't rely or like relying on anyone.
"Which is what?" Harry asked, as they all dug into their meals, Lydia stopped eating to sell a few of Stiles' items. Able to haggle for far more than Stiles had been able to thus far, and sell it for a far better price.
"Nicely done," Stiles said, gazing at her adoringly, she was brilliant, he'd always recognized that.
"Yes," she agreed smugly, before sitting down on the pillow and beginning to eat her food all dainty like.
Harry laughed, sighing softly, before digging back into his food.
Everyone valiantly ignored Derek trying to buy various pieces, which he got, Stiles just wouldn't let him pay. The boyish smile that appeared on Derek's face every time the money reappeared in his pocket…made Peter hurt and breathing hitch. He hadn't seen that since Derek was fourteen-years-old. Seeing it now, it was infinitely more precious than it had been when he saw it last…unaware of the fate that awaited the Hales.
"I'm thirsty," Harry grumbled, before getting up and disappearing into his trunk, and the pack (not including Peter) stared, it still was taking some getting used to seeing magic performed so effortlessly.
In no less than five minutes, Harry returned but he was clinking, as bottles were brought out. Peter's eyes lit up, when he saw it. Eagerly taking a bottle, and that had the others doing the same.
Butterbeer became an immediate favourite all around.
"It's a good day to have the festival," Lydia commented.
"Yes, back in Britain when you planned something it was guaranteed to rain nine times out of ten." Harry said wryly, you'd never believe how many of his Quidditch matches were performed in the rain. He was extraordinary lucky that he'd never gotten sick, considering he had been sickly, as it was. Leaning further into Peter as he absently caressed the back of his neck an unconscious need to make sure he was still there.
"Did you plan this sort of thing back in Britain?" Stiles as always, the first to ask and the most fearless of them all. If you looked in the dictionary under the words 'Where angels fear to tread' you'd find Stiles' face under it. Entirely uncontested.
"No, Hogwarts didn't have this sort of thing on offer," Harry informed them, "Britain is insular, prejudice to the extreme against anything that isn't 'human' or 'pureblood' whichever you prefer." He informed them in between bites to eat.
"It's why Harry moved the first chance he got," Peter added, deliberately not mentioning Teddy and Andromeda. To saddened him to say, if they'd stayed in Britain Teddy may well still be alive. If it had occurred to Peter, it most certainly had occurred to Harry. Well, they assumed he might have, but there was no telling what might have happened. Life was full of hardships and difficulties that sometimes got too much for even the strongest of people.
"So, what did you do for fun?" Stiles asked, setting his now empty box aside, not even a single curly fry had survived his determination to eat every single one of them. He felt slightly betrayed that they were better than the place he normally got them.
"Played Quidditch, only ever lost one game." Harry replied, "And even then, it was due to…extenuating circumstances." He would have won otherwise, of that he had no doubt, he played Cedric Diggory before and he always won his games. He was the best Seeker of the century, not just the youngest, and he wasn't bragging, it was just the truth.
"I read about that, it's like three sports in one," Stiles claimed, rubbing his hands almost gleefully. "Do you think broomsticks would work for me?"
"NO!" Peter and Derek loudly refuted and refused the thought that was striking Stiles at the moment. He was clumsy on his own two feet, they were not going to let him anywhere near a broomstick, end of.
Stiles pouted, "But what if…"
"No!" Peter and Derek said again before Stiles could finish his thoughts. They knew whatever it would be, would be dangerous.
Stiles sighed, sulking over the fact they were stealing his fun.
"I'll take you up, but as a passenger," Harry offered.
"NO!" Peter's voice became high pitched, "That's worse than him offering to go on his own! You have a death wish!"
Harry sniggered, "I'm not that bad." He insisted.
"You forget I've seen you play a game of quidditch and fly for the sake of it." Peter said dryly, draping his legs over Harry's. This was nice, he'd forgotten what a real slice of normalcy felt like.
"I'm really not that bad," he told the rest of the pack, shaking his head, "Peters' exaggerating." Insisting that this was the case here with a firm nod of his head.
"Did I forget to add I've been a 'passenger' on your broom when you elected to fly? Are you forgetting I've never gotten on again since?" Peter snorted.
Derek watched the mated pair with fondness and wistfulness. He wondered how different things would have been if Harry had been welcomed by his mom and the pack. He knew in his bones that the attack would have been unsuccessful. Given how swift and terrifying Harry's retribution was with Peter so similarly aligned, their revenge would have been swift and brutal.
Argent wouldn't have hurt anyone again…never mind terrifying his second chance, his second pack. His pack.
"What happened?" Lydia asked, asking before Stiles surprisingly, although it might have something to do with Stiles eating more curly fries that had been made available to him. The curiosity written across his face, even with a mouthful of curly fries. With a single one attempting to escape, but Stiles refused to let it go.
"Nothing," Peter stated curtly, giving Harry a look that suggested he'd kill him if he gave away secrets.
Harry didn't seem even remotely concerned, he had an impish look on his face, eyes gleaming merrily. "He fell, broke his leg and arm in the fall, we didn't even get up that high."
"High? I fell through a roof, into someone's house! Because you span around! And my shoulders got dislocated!" Peter complained. "It was painful!" even for him, who could heal pretty much from all injuries within twenty-four hours. He still didn't understand how humans could tolerate the pain for far longer than they did.
"Could have been worse," Stiles muttered, "You could have been human." Glaring surprisingly at Derek, Jackson then Erica and judging by their reactions, and the inability to look Stiles in the eyes they understood what he was referring to.
Derek frowned, he knew he had his own apologies to make, especially regarding how he'd treated Stiles. He knew that Jackson and Stiles had always had a tense and terse relationship. Okay, it was hatred, Jackson bullied Stiles and Stiles got his own back in a more subtle manner. Erica though Erica and Stiles had an odd relationship. He'd thought it was to do with what they'd endured together at the hands of Gerard Argent. He'd talk to them later, just to ensure there was no lingering real resentment.
Harry arched a brow, "You were hurt by your own Alpha?" his lips drawing into a displeased line, as Peter pressed his hand against him, trying to stop this from blowing into something more than it was and ruining their day, which he really hoped wouldn't do.
"Technically he wasn't my Alpha then," Stiles conceded, his gaze flickering between Peter and Harry, noticing that they very rarely weren't touching each other in one way or another. "I deserved it." He stated firmly, and he honestly believed that. More so given what he'd learned about Derek's traumas. Trauma he'd never admit to, and likely never would, Kate Argent had done a number on him…other than just taking his family that was.
"That isn't reassuring kid," Harry said, usually that meant they deserved it the least when they believed themselves to be deserving of such hurts.
"No, I'm being serious, I did deserve it, and he only really shoved me into the steering wheel, I didn't even bruise now you mention it." Stiles told Harry, not wishing to reveal exactly what he'd done to cause the retaliation.
"We were taught at a young age to manage our tempers and strength where humans were concerned," Peter informed him, "Mostly due to the human pack members we…had." His voice wavering, they didn't discuss their pack often, and other than Talia, Cora and Laura, Derek and Peter didn't mention them at all.
Harry knew everything, naturally, since he had known the family before the fire. Harry reached forwards and grasped a hold of Peter's hand and held tightly. Cora and Derek might have been his 'favourites' but he'd loved his human family members with protective tendencies taken too far. Mostly because he knew how fragile they were compared to the werewolves.
"Shall we go find the books? Hm?" Harry suggested, knowing it was the best way to lift the mood Peter had descended into. It was either that or torturing someone and that was regretfully not possible, at least not anyone Peter would care to torture anyway.
"Yes," Peter immediately agreed, his mood not entirely better but he knew sitting here would only make it worse. It would in turn effect Derek, although it likely already had.
"Wait for me!" Stiles scrambled to get up, but it was far from the graceful moves that Harry and Peter had just performed. Naturally his 'grace' almost had him landing face first in the grass, but thanks to Derek's mindfulness where it came to Stiles' clumsiness, he was ready.
"Aren't you going to sell the rest of your stuff?" Jackson asked, not that there was much left, people had been really interested in what Stiles had to offer. Given the strength of his magic (according to Lydia he was really going to be powerful and Jackson believed Lydia before anyone else) they weren't exactly being conned either. The stuff he'd made sure as hell should work for a long time.
"I can stay here and sell the rest of it," Boyd said, he wasn't an avid reader, he preferred to be doing things instead of sitting reading. Those feelings had only become more so after being tortured by Gerard Argent. If Stiles needed books in order to help the protect the pack? Well, he would do whatever he could to help, including selling his stuff.
"How much?" Stiles asked, pausing in putting away his things.
"Ten Dollars," Boyd returned, smirking in amusement, wondering whether Stiles would haggle to reduce that price. Honestly, where Stiles was concerned, it wouldn't surprise him the least.
"Five,"
Boyd just stared at him, "You're really haggling?"
"Fine, ten," Stiles grumbled, slapping the ten dollars into his hand, before shoving the rest of the money into his front pocket. "Hopefully it's not for nothing." Eyeing the stuff left in the bag and gauging just how much it was worth. He knew it was likely he'd lose track of time browsing the book section. Likely spend most of his money, and not leave enough for a magical tattoo.
"I'm staying with Boyd," Erica chimed in.
"We'll be back within an hour," Derek said, "Any sign of trouble come get us, if you can't phone."
"Got it," Boyd agreed, watching as the rest of the pack headed off, Jackson and Lydia at the back.
"They're going to be gone longer than an hour," Erica said sniggering softly.
"Agreed," Boyd said quietly, watching them go, he might not be very talkative but he would get Stiles the best price for his items. It was the least he could do, and if there was anything he was good at…it was haggling.
"You must be Brian," Peter stated as they reached the stall with a man remarkably like…they hadn't actually gotten the vendors name he realized belatedly.
The man laughed joyfully, "Let me guess, my brother?" more amused than anything else, as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. His pale blue eyes roaming over the group in curiosity, "How can I help you gentlemen and ladies," he added noticing them joining the rest of the group after a little browsing.
"Male Banshees, I had no idea such a phenomenon could occur, all I've read indicates only females become Banshees," Peter enthusiastically shared his reason for being there.
"Don't let my younger twin siblings hear that," Brian said bemused, "You've been reading books from after the insulation of the magical world from the supernatural world. Or those that had no idea the magical world actually existed. So, I'm not surprised that the notion is a strange one to most of you." Stopping on Harry, recognizing the wizard. There was no stone Harry could crawl under to get away from the magical world.
"Are you saying there is a male banshee? With full powers?" Lydia asked, while the others waited with bated breath for an answer. Jackson felt a pang of discomfort and jealousy surge through him at this possible unknown threat. It wouldn't surprise him if Lydia wanted someone who could understand her far better than he himself could.
"Not full powers, at least not yet," Brian explained, plucking books with seeming randomness, but one look at the books titles they knew it was not. "They're not adults yet."
"Wizarding or creature?" Peter asked, now this he knew the difference about.
Brian smirked, "Creature," he informed the werewolf, putting the pile in front of them before going back to his task of finding books that might interest Peter.
"Attending Ilvermorny or tutored?" Harry was the one to ask the question, everyone else had spread out, looking through all the books, the summaries, and such.
"Bit of both, they attended Ilvermorny until they were fifteen going on sixteen," he added, coughing a little as the dust bothered his sinuses. Snatching another book purely as an afterthought.
"Going through their inheritance I assume? That can't be easy, especially since you're unique, each sibling or individual if you prefer will be different." Which means they would need to be taught differently, and that teaching method would need to be found the difficult way.
Brian nodded, "That we are, my younger twin siblings were the only ones that got into Hogwarts, my brother and I don't have the magical reserves to make the cut. We did study Runes and pass with the highest grade they've ever seen and the youngest to boot."
"Makes sense if that's the only subject you really pursued," Harry nodded in understanding.
"Do you have many books on Runes?" Stiles asked, perking up when he heard the familiar word.
"Not wizardkind." Harry affirmed, as the pack collected the books that piqued their curiosity.
"I have one or two, now those runes were difficult to harness," Brian cautioned.
"Don't worry, he won't find it difficult at all." Harry said wryly, but he gave no other indication of revealing Stiles secrets. He also made sure to warn Stiles against revealing his abilities for now with a single look. It was one thing for people to know you were magical but what kind was dangerous. At least until they had come into their own, and could protect themselves to the best of their abilities. That and they'd taken all necessary measures to safeguard their magic from being forcefully taken or drained.
It wasn't something Harry had ever had to worry about, he didn't have the right type of magic. His magic couldn't be drained from him or taken away.
"Hmm…let me see!" Brian hummed as he shuffled about a cardboard box filled with books, it had a single rune drawn on it. He had a system that hadn't let him down yet.
"Do you own a bookstore?" Cora asked, smothering her amusement as her brother's face slowly was covered by books spines that Stiles plopped on Derek's arms. "Or do you primarily deal online?"
"I do both," Brian told him, coming out with noises of triumph three times then a belated fourth time. "Just what you need." Placing them evenly on the table in front of the group, "Here's my card it has both my shop address and of course, the internet website. Guaranteed genuine article as long as you put the numbers in as well, otherwise you'll get only the Mundane selection."
"Wait seriously? Is there a lot of places doing that?" Stiles asked, peering at the card in Cora's hand. "Do you know a lot of magical websites for…well…everything?"
"You're going to be binge reading all these books, you don't need to be staying up all night online reading." Peter warned him, "Your grades cannot suffer because you're obsessed." Giving him the truth, and a pointed look. Not to mention what Noah Stilinski would think, while he was not the most observant and fastidious of parents, if anything he left Stiles do what he wanted too much, down to guilt no doubt. He would still draw a line, Peter thought, if Stiles' grades began to suffer so close to graduation.
"Let him, I'd be a shoo in for Valedictorian?" Lydia said smugly, "And I'd have the better grades." She knew just how to get through to Stiles and to get him…competitive juices flowing so to speak.
Stiles straightened up offended, "Game on!" they were always going to be the top two competitors and with the best grades. They were the most intelligent in the school, no surprise they both took AP classes as well.
Peter smirked, well, that was one way to get Stiles to focus, smirking more widely when Lydia winked at him. Perhaps she was fully forgiving him for what he had done to her. He honestly expected her to hold a grudge to the end of time but he'd been alright with that, for he would have been exactly like her should their roles be reversed.
"How much?" Harry asked, "And Galleons or Dollars?" thankfully all wizardkind money was the same, galleon, sickle and knuts. Unlike the Mundane world, that had them different for the different countries.
"Either is fine with me," Brian explained, calculating just how much money they were taking here.
"Wait, I want to pay for my own." Stiles protested, while Lydia and Cora snorted indelicately while Jackson actually scoffed.
"These books are likely a thousand dollars each, probably more," Jackson said, taking one reading the title, "They're originals, first editions." Then he replaced the book in the pile.
"He's right," Cora commented, "These are really expensive books, uncle Peter would never get anything less than the best." Definitely not copies, no, Peter would have turned around and walked away if they hadn't been to his very high standards. These were the sort of books she saw him with all the time as a kid.
Stiles looked at the pile of books looking highly betrayed, he'd thought they were copies, they were at a market for goodness' sake. He hadn't expected such expensive items to be here, it had been a very foolish assumption to make.
"How much are these?" Stiles asked, tense and prepared to hear the words at least.
"Eleven thousand dollars," Brian told him, rounding it up to the closest shaving off eight hundred, it was a lot of money, but he could see the boy wouldn't be able to afford them. It sounded a hell of a lot more when you converted it to galleons.
Stiles winced, "Ouch," he could afford maybe one out of the eleven books he had spoken for.
"Round up the price for them all," Harry stated firmly, "And you can pay me back when you can, it's not like I'm going to be short."
Then to the Hales surprise, Stiles gave in, and agreed.
They'd tried to spend money on Stiles before, but would the kid accept it? Hell no, they'd need to remember how Harry did it. If there was one thing Derek and Peter agreed on was the desire to fix up the jeep. Mostly because the kid used it to come crashing in to save the day.
Stiles looked ready to nearly pass out when he heard the total for every single book they had chosen today. Everyone else had been around money their entire lives and didn't even blink. It was tantamount to pocket change really at the end of the day.
Harry handed over the money without blinking, and it immediately was stuffed into a pouch. One that would ensure the large amount of money wouldn't be going anywhere. It couldn't be stolen or removed from his person except by those he trusted. The books had those same spells on them, which were promptly removed, so that they could take the books with them. So that an almighty alarm wouldn't caterwaul when it got ten feet away from him. It was packed in a brown paper and string to Stiles delight then bagged in a plastic bag which was runed with lightweight.
"Here," Stiles said, offering up the first thousand dollars he'd made.
Harry blinked but obediently took it, and slid it into his pocket, already thinking of ways to give the kid the money back. Then again, if he was anywhere near as savvy as he seemed, he wouldn't be surprised if the kid had the funds back within the next month.
In fact, by the end of the night Harry had two thousand dollars back, since Boyd had sold a good haul. Stiles still had some money left too.
"How often do these happen? I would like to return," Lydia declared, knowing and seeing Banshees helped her feel less isolated and alone. The two books she had on Banshees were fascinating, they were actual journals written by Banshees.
"Not as often as everyone wishes, but often enough, I'll let you know," Harry told her, "Nobody ever gets to know before it's scheduled, less chance of anyone being here that shouldn't."
"You should hear what people are saying about the Hale Pack," Boyd said smugly, the knowledge that he was part of the pack being spoken about this way made him feel superior.
Harry's phone pinged.
"What do you mean? What's being said?" Lydia and Stiles both asked, their hearing wasn't as good, and Stiles unable to cope with hearing everything like the werewolves hadn't kept the spell on for long.
"Peter," Harry said, holding his phone up for Peter to see.
Peter took one glance at the phone and nodded, "Interesting,"
"Think she's heading back our way?" Harry asked with a vicious smirk.
"She wouldn't," Peter muttered incredulously.
"Which is likely why she is." Harry deduced.
"The closer we are to danger the farther we are from harm." Stiles quoted.
"It's slightly irrelevant but quite accurate," Peter replied thoughtfully, "But there has to be a reason, does it say where she's been exactly?"
"I can ask," Harry told Peter, typing out a reply and shooting it off to the guy he has following Kate Argent.
Derek looked as sick as he felt.
"Don't worry, kid, she won't get near you." Harry said coldly, back to the face of the werewolf they'd first came into contact with.
Derek believed him, wholeheartedly, he knew deep in his bones that between Peter and Harry…Kate wasn't going to get near him again.
"And if they fail, I won't." Stiles declared, wrapping himself around Derek, offering him the comfort he clearly needed but failed to seek out. It spoke volumes that Stiles words relaxed Derek even further. He wasn't worried about him, he genuinely believed that Stiles would be able to end her where he could not.
A/n – well, there we go! I hope you're still enjoying it and liked seeing them all together as a pack before we see Kate Argent's end, although I'm not sure whether to have her end before the end of the story or to have her death be the end of the tale what do you think? I know it means it's been a very short tale but it was always meant to be the case 😊 I've enjoyed writing it don't get me wrong 😉 but no story lasts forever…so what will Kate be up to? Just finishing business out of sheer rage and anger or will she be attempting to get one of the hale trinkets? I'm not sure if I'm getting my timeline mixed up or if I've already added it to the story but something sounds a bit familiar! Anyway, there we go! Enjoy and R&R please I've noticed its becoming a rare thing indeed for reviews 😉 I think more and more people are reading offline x