Complicated 14

By: I Should Be Sleeping (AKA: Moar Sleep)

Paul settled down on the same plush carpet he had landed on earlier today. However, instead of having 100 pounds of hot imprint, he was attempting to get comfortable with the sparse blanket and pillows that had been thrown down from the bed beside him.

His mother was situated on the plush mattress with his slumbering imprint, combing her fingers through her hair and doing mom shit. She hears her soft humming and smiles to himself. His mom had a great voice.

"Ma?" Paul whispers into the dark. "Thanks for being here."

"Of course," she replies just as softly. "Get some rest flaco. Sweet dreams."

Paul blushed, partly in pleasure and partly in embarrassment at the Spanish endearment. Before he shifted, he had been skinny as fuck. All bones and no sense his lita used to say before pinching his arm and heaping his plate with more tamales. Despite the fact that he had filled up and out, the nickname stuck, and his mom would pull it every now and again.

She rarely called him that these days, but he did enjoy it when she did. Turning over a bit to face the door in a natural instinct to place himself between any possible intruders and his mate and mother, he yawned loudly. "Night mama."

"Aren't you the absolute sweetest? Would you like more bacon?"

The smell of sizzling pork crackling on a heated pan wafted through the home as Hermione quietly made her way downstairs towards the kitchen. What she saw made her cease and her jaw drop.

Joy was currently nuzzling the little feathered demon that sat perched upon her shoulder, feeding the hell spawn bits of bacon. She'd break off a small piece, blow on it before handfeeding the gluttonous thing and he would peep in absolute contentment.

As if sensing her thoughts about him, the feathered menace whirled his head around at an angle that only owl's were capable of doing and flew at her, his distress and displeasure made clear at her plaited hair. He pulled at the strands in a futile attempt to free her rambunctious tresses before Hermione gave up and did it for him.

His pleasure at her actions was rewarded with him nesting on her head and preening at her thick strands.

"He is such a darling," said Joy with a fond smile over her shoulder.

Darling is not a word that Hermione would have chosen to use. Frowning, she approached the older woman. "Mrs. Ateara. Please let me help."

Joy grinned. Hermione, much like her, was an early riser. For the past few days, the two had created a routine of sorts and the brunette would help her around the kitchen, assisting her to make a large breakfast for the bottomless pit that was her son.

Honestly, she was a bit behind and had woken an hour earlier than normal in hopes that she could get enough together to feed almost the entire pack and the rest of the family, but she was woefully behind. Unfortunately, nothing was open so early and although she had enough, even with Hermione's help, there were too few hands.

"Hermione sweetie thank you. Honestly, cooking for Quil is already tough, but cooking for the entire pack is going to require a miracle to get everything done by the time they switch out for shifts," the Quileute female said with a glance at the large clock on the wall.

Hermione smiled before flicking out her wrist and producing a slender piece of wood. "It would be if you did not have a witch to help out that has a lot of experience feeding a pack of hungry boys," she said fondly as she thought to the hectic meals of the Burrow. She was no Molly Weasley, but she had learned enough to know how to cut down on meal prep and make them in bulk.

"Leave it to me," she said as she began to weave her wand around the kitchen, flicking and twisting it this way and that.

Joy watched in absolute amazement as pots and pans began to float out of cupboards. Ingredients were combined and mixed by phantom hands as she was suddenly in the middle of her first practical taste of magic. It reminded her favorite book Matilda. That genius little girl used her extraordinary power of telekinesis. Like that same amazing child, Hermione looked like a conductor directing a symphony to music only she could hear. Each movement was graceful as she watched a fresh batch of bread rolls pile themselves on her countertop, each baked to golden perfection.

"Holy shit!"

"Morning Quil," said Hermione without breaking her concentration and directing another dozen eggs to scramble and mix while simultaneously measuring out ingredients for a huge stack of pancakes.

The two Ateara family members watched in apt fascination as Hermione created a meal of hearty bacon, sausages, eggs, rolls and sliced fruits. She directed the table to set easily and filled their dining room table to the brim with copious amounts of food.

Quil's eyes were wide with excitement. "Can I have waffles instead of pancakes?"

"Of course you can," replied Hermione breezily, as the ingredients for the batter came racing towards the large shifter. "I am not sure where the waffle iron is, but this is your home so it should not be a problem."

Quil looked absolutely forlorn as he realized that he would have to make the food himself and sat down at the table moodily.

"Quil. Just because I have magic does not mean it is the best solution for everything. Your mother needed help and she was ambushed with a full house last night. Honestly, food tastes better when you take the time to prepa-"

At that Hermione stopped talking as she realized Quil was not listening and already stuffing his face with what she deemed to be some monstrosity. Wrapping eggs and bacon into a few pancakes, he had made some sort of bastardized version of a breakfast burrito and was currently following it with another roll.

Joy looked absolutely scandalized and began to massage her temples before saying a short prayer in Quileute. She had no clue what it meant, but based off context, Hermione surmised she was asking the spirits for strength.

Her wand flicked out to finish setting the table and she rolled her eyes at him before smacking him on the shoulder. "I thought you wanted waffles. Also, wait for everyone else for Merlin's sake Quil."

Quil looked a tiny bit contrite before making his way to set up a little waffle station to begin cranking out stacks upon stacks of golden, crispy breakfast goodness.

As if the sound of cutlery alerted the rest of the pack, giant shifters streamed into the dining room, jostling one another for food as she stood back and observed the chaos. It was only due to past meals with the Weasley boys that Hermione was not gobsmacked.

"What the fuck guys! At least let the others be served before cramming it all into your sorry mouths!"

Leah.

Hermione was learning quickly that Leah was the one that would say exactly what everyone was thinking and never censor herself.

"Alright, line up losers!" Barked the only female shifter with all the alacrity of a drill sergeant. "Non-shifters first and then you can fill the black holes you call stomachs."

It was impressive how the large russet warriors fell into step with the direction of their only female pack member. Billy and Old Quil were fixing their plate with a bit of everything while Mary took her sweet time to the annoyance and amusement of her brother.

"Paul! What part of family first do you not understand!?" Leah admonished.

"It's for Hermione!" He protested as he procured a ridiculous pile of food that looked taller than her head. How he balanced everything so precariously and did not have one bit fall was a mystery to everyone, but it was impressive. "Hey baby girl, I got this for you."

There was that pet name again. She really should be incensed at such a childish moniker. However, she could not find herself displeased by his word choice. It made her warm when he used that deep voice of his.

Hermione goggled at the amount of food on the plate offered to her. Part of her wanted to protest, but he looked so imploringly at her that she really did not have the heart to say no. She supposed he could just eat what she didn't. Much like Ron, she was sure he could be another human garbage disposal if necessary. "Thank you Paul."

Julia appeared at her elbow, gently leading her towards a seat at the dining room table and sitting down beside her. She noticed that the rest of the pack were busy scooping copious amounts of food onto their plates and that Brady and Collin were nudging one another playfully to the detriment of the teetering meals before them. "Boys. Stop that and settle down," Hermione said disapprovingly.

The two snapped to attention and looked at her like kicked puppies. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. They responded by looking even more repentant and settled quickly and finished quietly collecting their meal.

"Well, she has that mom look down." Laughed Embry.

Hermione's gaze swiveled towards Embry and had the large shifter immediately looked away.

Quil snorted softly into his bread roll, now turned away from the group making a small stack of waffles for himself. Hermione would have no problem fitting in with the rest of the women of the pack. She was scary as fuck.

Hermione took a few bites of fruit, her small nibbles an absolute contrast to the huge bites being taken by the large shifters situated around the dining room. Some were standing, while others sat. Paul himself was standing behind her and his mother, working on his own plate with an appreciative hum.

"Thank you for your help, as always, Hermione," said Joy graciously as she spread some homemade marmalade on her roll.

Quil blinked from his makeshift waffle station. "You cook regularly?" He questioned while absently batting at Embry who tried to steal from the top of his building waffle tower.

Hermione gave him a wry look. "Quil, who do you think helps your mother in the morning to make sure you are fed? That in itself is a fulltime job. I admire her and anyone who has been feeding any of you."

Emily preened as did a few of the others present, including Billy himself. When his Sarah passed, he had three children to learn to care for and learning to cook had been at the top of his list. He was proud to say that he was more than competent in the kitchen and his apple pie had won for the past six years at the Forks Spring Festival.

The entire pack looked a bit apologetic at her words and in turn gave each person a humble nod of thanks.

With one last small bite, Hermione craned her neck back and looked up at Paul. "Are you still hungry?"

"Baby, you barely ate," he said with a frown. His hazel eyes took in the small bit of food his mate had consumed, a few bird-like bites from her roll before chasing it down with a meagre half apple and a couple berries.

Feeling his wolf whine in distress, he shook his head. "How about you try to finish off that apple of yours?"

Hermione frowned, her stomach already protesting at the amount she had eaten. Honestly, she usually only took tea in the morning and followed it up with a nutrient potion when working. Was it healthy? No, but she had been pressed for time and absolutely swamped.

Now she had been making an effort to get back into the swing of eating in the morning, but her war habits were hard to break. She was so used to starving that even two years after the final battle, she still struggled with food.

Paul, taking in her silent contemplating with growing worry, scooped her up out of her seat and situated her on his lap like a child.

Hermione let out a curse in French before scowling at the large male. "I am not a child Paul."

"Then stop acting like one Hermione."

Her glare was usually enough to have the best of the wizarding world running for the hills, but this wolf was having none of it. He stubbornly matched her glare with one of his own and held up a bit of sliced apple to her lips.

Hermione turned her head.

Was it childish?

Yes.

Did she care?

No.

It was the principle of the matter! She was full and he was not going to force feed her like some little kid being fed mushy peas.

"Keep it up baby girl and I will turn you over on my knee," he whispered lowly into her ear, and it had her insides quivering in a manner that was most definitely not appropriate given their present company.

The other wolves had the decency to look anywhere but her. No doubt they had heard their brother, but chose not to interfere.

Blushing horribly, she let out a soft huff.

"Or maybe you want that?" At this, Paul's leg jumped slightly and had her jostling slightly in place as her face took on an even deeper shade of red she had never achieved before.

Snapping out, she bit harshly into the apple and barely grazed his fingers with her teeth.

Paul's hazel eyes flashed with shocks of yellow as his chest thrummed with a pleased growl. "Oh baby girl, you are definitely going to be fun."

Hermione chose to ignore him, a difficult feat considering she was still sitting on his lap, but continued to chew aggressively. So focused on her ire, she had not realized that she finished off the last half of the apple and was reaching for a roll.

Paul looked pleased at her actions and grinned at his mother who looked at the two with amusement.

"I suppose I can eat more," the witch conceded softly, more in shock than anything.

DJ Khaled's All I Do is Win, rang rather loudly from the counter as Quil looked at the mobile laying beside him. Reading the caller ID, his eyes grew large and a deep growl broke through the soft chatter in the room. "Hermione! Why is Emmett Cullen calling you!?"

Hermione's head snapped up at hearing the annoying ringtone and her honeyed eyes widened comically as she realized that Emmett Cullen had not only gotten ahold of her mobile, but managed to program his number with a ridiculous song to match.

"That infuriating behemoth!" She said in an impressive growl that mimicked most of the pack. However, her ire was overlooked as they were staring at her in a mixture of shock, anger and in Paul's case, betrayal.

Hermione almost recoiled from his blank gaze.

Quil hit the red button to ignore the call and send it directly to voice mail.

Seeing that the entire pack and family members looking to her expectantly, she let out a sigh. "Esme Cullen is my therapist."

Paul had been absolutely still, but upon hearing the words from his mate he looked at her defeated form. Despite his anger over her obvious connection with the bloodsuckers from up the hill, his need to comfort her outweighed that at the moment.

Therefore, when she mentioned the female head being her therapist, he thought he heard wrong. "Say that again?"

Hermione continued to look away, somewhat ashamed that she needed to see a doctor in order to manage her mental health. It was unheard of in the Wizarding World and in her social circle of the Muggle World, caused numerous whispers to break out. All in all, she was a bit embarrassed and did not like sharing her needs with others – especially those that she did not really know very well.

Paul may be her mate, but he was still a stranger. All she knew about him was that he was fit and kissed like an Adonis.

"Esme Cullen is actually well known in the magical world when it comes to mental health. Seeing as my problems stem from magical situations, I cannot very well speak to a regular therapist. In addition, mental health is not something discussed in the Wizarding World. We just take our potions or ignore such cases."

At that, Hermione winced remembering the madness that ran in the Black family. Could many things had been avoided if they had taken the time to talk through their dysfunctionality?

"That is why you smelled like them yesterday?" Asked Quil.

"Yes. I was going to explain, but then well..." Her words trailed off as she looked at Paul with a blush.

This time it was Greenday's Basketcase that rang from her phone and Hermione groaned. Just how many numbers was he able to program and customize? Bloody vampiric speed!

"Um, it's Mama C?" Asked Quil with a confused arch of his brow as he looked to Hermione.

"Emmett Cullen is a sneak and I will be setting him on fire."

That received a bark of approval from the majority of the pack as Quil easily pressed the accept button and spoke into the phone. "City morgue. You kill 'em, we chill 'em."

Joy looked absolutely mortified as the rest of the members in the kitchen looked to be more amused than anything.

Hermione mirrored Joy's expression as she jumped from Paul's lap and made a pathetic grab for her mobile. However, given that Quil had a ridiculous height advantage and superior reflexes, it really was futile.

"This is her secretary. May I ask who is speaking?"

"Quil Ohle Atera V! You give that back right now and I will not hex your bollocks off!"

"Can she actually do that?!" Asked Jacob horrified.

"You want to test her and find out bro?" Replied Embry with an uncomfortable look on his face.

Quil did not want to tempt fate and immediately handed her the phone.

Hermione huffed at him, a few sparks escaping her fizzing curls as the tiny owl still nesting in her hair clacked his beak at Quil angrily.

Pressing the phone to her ear, she shot one last angry glare at the mischievous shifter. "I apologize Dr. Cullen. I am currently staying in La Push and only just learned of their heritage. They were taken off guard once Emmett called me. Also, because I know he is listening in, I will hex you next time I see you Emmett Cullen."

"Oh shiznit!" Was heard on the receiver as she guessed he was making himself scarce.

"I also apologize for my son. I wish I could say that something went wrong with his transformation to explain why he is the way he is, but we both know that vampiric healing is absolute," she said with a sigh.

"Ma!" Came the exclaim of protest followed by a loud thumping sound that Hermione could only guess was someone knocking him upside the head.

"Trust me I understand," replied Hermione as she sent a pointed look at a weakly smiling Quil. "However, you and I both adore them too much to do any lasting damage," she finished with a roll of her eyes at the now preening shifter.

"She loves me more," Quil taunted Paul as the larger male sent him an unimpressed look.

"Dr. Cullen, would it be possible to reschedule our appointment for tonight? I need to address things with everyone present and there are other matters to attend to with MACUSA."

Esme made a soft tutting sound. "Of course darling. However, please do not leave it too long. I would like to start our sessions this week. And please call me Esme"

"Thank you for your understanding. Take care and tell Edward that I will speak with him later."

As she hung up, Hermione looked into the piercing looks being given to her by everyone present. Sighing, she straightened her spine and jutted out her chin determinedly. "I suppose we have things to discuss."

Before the pack could reply, a series of pops followed by a curse and crash alerted everyone present of a presence outside the back kitchen door.

"Do stand up Mr. Potter and watch your language," came a stern voice.

Harry's immediately reply was reflexive. "Yes Headmistress."

A deep baritone chuckle of amusement accompanied the reply as the strict voice reprimanded the laughing male. "Mr. Shacklebolt, you would do well not to laugh at others' weaknesses or shall I tell Mr. Potter of your 5th year OWL's."

The response was repentant. "Yes Headmistress."

Hermione's eyes lit up with a mixture of shock and happiness before she darted out the back door of the kitchen and exclaimed loudly for everyone to hear. "Harry!"

Paul frowned as he heard his imprint's voice yell with absolute joy as his wolf growled with agitation. Who the fuck was Harry!?

AN:

I apologize for the late update, but I am trying to map out what to write next. This chapter is another transitional one simply because I felt I needed to post something in hopes of getting my creative juices flowing.

Thank you for the kind reviews. I do appreciate them.

- Me

Spanish:

Flaco - skinny

Lita - grandmother (casual form of abuelita)