Sorry for the delayed update everyone! We had a powercut last night so I had no internet access :( Hope this chapter was worth the wait!
Full Moon Magic
Chapter Three
It was the biting wintry breeze that woke him in the morning. Harry shivered himself awake and shifted on the bed of his fur. Blinking open sleep-heavy eyes, he squinted as the sun stung them and glanced around. That was why he had awoken cold then, the unnatural warmth of the moon heat had subsided as the sun rose and the protection of Fenrir's fur was gone. Sitting up a little straighter, Harry pulled a corner of the cloak he was stretched out on over his shoulders for warmth and watched, still in an instinct-induced haze as Fenrir crouched over a freshly blooming fire.
The man was as naked as the day he was born, damp from the stream and cooking fish over the flames. Harry shifted so he could use more of the fur to cover him, but the movement drew Fenrir's eyes to him. Somehow, Harry knew this was how it should have been the first time, what had been stolen from them before. They were both suspended in a cloudy, gentle world of just them and instincts and...intimacy. They didn't speak, as if the pull of the moon were still over them – no, something even stronger than that.
Fenrir gave him a meaningful, warm look and turned back to the fish, turning it on the skewer and using clean claws to pluck the single bone out of the centre. Freshwater Comfrey Rock, then, Harry's favourite fish that Fenrir had introduced him to when he'd been...pregnant with Kirian, full of nutrients and natural magic and...delicious. Even as he approached Harry, Fenrir passed his hand over the flames to magically coax them higher and hotter. He said nothing, only passed the skewered fish to Harry carefully.
Harry blinked. This felt right. That was the only way he could describe it. It felt like the missing piece. He shifted closer to the fire and took the skewer, pulling a mouthful of fish off with his teeth and chewing. He groaned. So good. Fenrir smirked, crossing his legs and watching him as he ate. Harry looked back, chewing the hot meat carefully. When the fish was gone, Harry tossed the stick into the fire and leant over to the riverside to scoop cool, clear water into his mouth.
When he crawled back to the spot by the fire, Fenrir was laying on his side, head propped on one hand and Harry kept their gazes locked as he slid onto his back beside him, waiting. Calloused fingertips traced a few splashes of water that he'd accidentally flicked down his chin and throat and Harry swallowed, relaxing, turning his head to the side and just breathing. His body ached but in a good way. It was tingling almost, little pricks of heat that spiked more fiercely when Fenrir's hand splayed down his chest, his stomach and down to trace his still open hole.
Harry hissed at the pleasure-pain and saw those eyes darken with want, with appreciation and pride. He was still sticky and loose down there. The wolf had definitely done its job then. Harry felt his cheeks burn – instincts or no and curled his toes in the grass as he let Fenrir feel him. It was another instinctive thing that just felt right. When he gasped that gaze flicked to him questioningly, as if asking if he was alright, before pulling his fingers back, cleaning them and sliding them up under the cloak to rest on Harry's stomach.
Before he knew it, bristly, unshaven lips were tracing the flat, hard shape of his abdomen, sniffing, scenting, kissing. Harry gave a huff of ticklish amusement and slid his fingers through Fenrir's hair, closing his eyes as the sun settled over them through the canopy of trees, warming him. Clearing his throat, Harry managed to find his voice. "Did it work?" he asked, voice slightly roughened from sleep and from inappropriate use the night before.
Fenrir mumbled against his stomach as he sniffed, passing his lips over and over the light muscle. Then he tipped his head up to look at Harry from under dishevelled hair. "I must be all man, two goes and two cubs."
Harry's eyes widened, his breath stopping momentarily as his fingers slid up Fenrir's neck. It had worked. It had really worked. He pinched Fenrir's neck. "You're disgusting," he laughed hoarsely, leaning his head back against the warm grass. Fenrir must have kept the area he was sleeping in magically heated because it was still winter and he felt comfortable, safe and (until the fire had risen) only a little chilly.
"A virile old bastard you've caught yourself, Harry James Potter," Fenrir smirked, crawling up Harry's body until he completely covered him. He brushed his knuckles against Harry's throat and jaw as he always did, their mouths almost touching.
Harry laughed, slapping the man's bare arse in mock reprimand before letting his hands slide up his sides. "I did some of the work," he said, but he was smiling, eyes closed, relief and happiness filling him until he was sure he'd burst with it. It felt warmer than the sunshine bathing them. He felt almost nauseous with it. He gripped Fenrir's ribs, grazing them with his blunt nails and feeling his mate shiver at the ticklish sensation. Harry's smile widened.
"It really worked? You can tell just by smelling me?" he asked.
Fenrir huffed, turning his head to graze his mouth against Harry's jaw. "It's subtle, but yeah, I can smell it, just like I smelled it the first time. It's only a slight shift in your usual scent. Most wolves will be able to. Kirian will probably even sense it, though he won't know what it means."
"Wouldn't be too sure of that," Harry said, blinking up at Fenrir as the man drew back to look at him. Harry moistened his lips before elaborating. "I asked him what he thought of a brother or sister, pretty much. Well, I have it on very good authority that a sister would not be appreciated."
With a chuckle, Fenrir rolled onto his side to regard Harry affectionately. "I thought that too and said as much when my parents had the triplets. He'll love either. It's an equal chance either way, as I understand it."
Harry snorted. He loved this teasing, amused Fenrir. He hadn't realised how long he had been missing it. Was it all because he wanted another child so much and was afraid Harry didn't want the same? Harry let his hand slide down to his unchanged stomach. Kirian had been the little miracle that helped him save the Wizarding World, save Fenrir and himself. This little one, it would heal so many wounds. He wasn't blind enough to think it wouldn't be hard work – he'd raised Kirian after all. But to finally have it there, to know that this time they'd get to have everything they couldn't before...
"Like you loved your sister?" Harry asked softly. Fenrir's eyes flickered. Not guardedly as they did sometimes when speaking of his family, but uncertainly. As if he was hesitant to sully this beautiful morning with grief. Those eyes held his and one of Fenrir's hands covered his on his stomach. Harry tilted his head so he could stare up at him, the man's head supported on his hand. "Tell me," Harry said.
With a sigh, Fenrir looked down to where their hands rested over Harry's stomach and let his fingers settle between Harry's own. "My parents weren't as lucky as us," Fenrir began at last, voice low, not lifting his eyes again. "After me, my dad couldn't get pregnant. Not right away anyway. No one knew why, it was just one of those things. They tried for ages but it never really..." He paused for a moment, as if lost in the memories. "I was a little shit, I'm sure. I didn't want any siblings. I s'pose I was happy having all the attention to myself. Then eventually when I was about six my parents had the triplets and of course, naturally they demanded attention from everyone." He rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky. Harry shifted closer so he could rest his head on the man's shoulder, pressed tight to his side.
"All they did was cry and shit and vomit everywhere. Especially Louden, he was a little prick. He wouldn't shut up unless he was being held – hated being put down and Lyall just didn't stop vomiting, literally everything he ate, colic or something I think they called it. They were identical pains in my arse and I hated them."
Harry thought he could hear some of the put out six-year-old in that voice then and he smiled in spite of himself. Not only because of that, but because Fenrir was talking about them, really talking.
"Llora was different," Fenrir continued, "she was so quiet and patient, so when my parents had their hands full of the other two it was left to me to look after her and she was...perfect."
Harry beamed closing his eyes as he listened.
"She really took to me; I suppose that helped. I'd seen other pack cubs obviously but she was the best one I'd seen. I started being less of a cock and helped out a bit more after that, the triplets never stopped. And the boys weren't so bad once they started crawling – more fun. Llora used to dominate the pair of them. I think she might've been alpha after me, if she'd lived. They had Wolfram a few years after that and he was so small and dependant on everyone. He never really grew out of it..."
Sliding an arm over Fenrir's stomach, Harry tried to think of something to say, anything that would be deemed appropriate. Somehow he thought Fenrir's loss was even worse than his own because he had such clear memories of the family that had been ripped away right before his eyes. Harry didn't remember his parents as such, just the idea of them, the warmth, the longing, the absence. It hurt, it ached but to remember it all so clearly and to lose everything so tragically at such a young age...
"Did you like being a big brother?"
Fenrir snorted. "All four of them used to follow me round like ducklings. They all thought they were quicker, smarter, braver than they were." His hand slid up to cover Harry's. "Yeah, I did. I used to complain that I had to babysit them all the time but I liked..."
Harry lifted his head when Fenrir stopped and looked at his face. Those eyes were still avoiding him. "Fenrir?" he asked.
"I liked having them to look after," he murmured, softly, as if he hoped Harry wouldn't hear him. Harry cocked his head a little with a sad smile, sliding his fingers up to graze at the man's bristly jaw. He liked the feel of it under his blunt nails.
"You think if Kirian has a few siblings that will somehow be more...right, like a second chance?" he asked haltingly, hoping Fenrir understood what he meant. Because Fenrir had never gotten to see his siblings grow up, he wanted to see Kirian thriving with his own siblings. It wouldn't fix what was lost but Harry thought it was part of the reason he wanted more children so badly.
"I suppose that's some of it," Fenrir replied in his thoughtful, gruff voice, finally meeting Harry's eyes.
"I don't know about five," Harry warned, only partly teasing. Last night had been...different to before, not traumatising like the first time and not unwanted, but it still filled him with an uncertain squishy feeling in his gut to remember how he'd had sex with a werewolf. It still felt wrong somehow, he didn't think that would ever go away. But it wasn't horrifying, it hadn't triggered anything unwanted inside him and if it had worked then it was worth it.
Fenrir snorted. "How about three?"
"That only leaves you one leg to stand on," Harry mused, relaxed and still a bit sleepy and warm. He smirked at the image of having to hop on one foot while holding three children at bay with the remaining one and both hands. Then he thought of something. "You've thought about it before, haven't you?"
"That would be telling," Fenrir murmured, resting his chin on Harry's head when it laid back down on his chest. It felt nice, Harry thought. These were the moments he treasured, just laying there peacefully with Fenrir. Like the sleepy mornings or nights sprawled across the furs with Kirian slumbering soundly between them. His chest drew in tight then. He hadn't been apart from Kirian for this long before and he hadn't been apart from him for an entire night. Not ever.
"I hope he's alright," he whispered, feeling all his anxieties and tension came flooding back. Fenrir brushed a hand through the hair at the back of his head and held him close.
"Larentia has watched him for us before, he'll be alright."
Harry closed his eyes again so Fenrir, even though he knew that was a pitiful shield to his emotions where Fenrir was concerned. "Never this long," he murmured. "Never on the full moon..."
"Harry," Fenrir began, his tone cautious, "Kirian is safe. You know he is–"
"There was a breech in the wards before," Harry began, but the fingers not locked on his hair gripped his hip, thumb sliding into the hollow just inside.
"You know that was only a one time–"
"But it could happen," Harry said, sitting up sharply, enough so he could look down at Fenrir's face. "Anything could happen. So many things hit me when I thought I was safe, Fenrir. So many things could happen to him and no one can keep him safe better than me." He cringed at how that sounded, but he knew Fenrir understood – probably better than he understood himself.
Those large, rough fingers cupped his face and neck, grounding him his momentary panic and not allowing him to look away. When he spoke the voice was coarse but the blue eyes were soft and warm. "You walked away from him when you faced Targarletum, thinking you were going to die but you didn't, Harry. You're here. You're both safe and you're here. I had to learn that I couldn't stop you from going the places you wanted to go just because I worried–"
"Still have to learn a bit m–"
"And you need to realise, you can't stop Kirian either. It's fine now he's four and as clingy as a limpet but he'll grow and if you don't let him you'll suffocate him just like you said I suffocated you back when this all first started."
Harry flinched. "Don't tell me how to treat my own son," he began defensively, but the thumbs on his cheeks stroked gently, coaxing his gaze back.
"What if he gets a letter to that bloody school seven years from now?" Fenrir demanded.
Harry felt sick at the thought. Even though Hogwarts had been everything to him, still meant so much even now. He sat back on his heels and Fenrir let him, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched Harry pull the cloak around him properly. "I know," he murmured through gritted teeth, annoyed at how much sense that made. Hating it. "I know I do just...not yet. Not now."
Stretching out in the grass, Fenrir gave him a final knowing look before making his way to the stream. The water must've been cold but Harry watched as Fenrir gave only a perfunctory shudder before washing himself quickly. Harry cast a hasty cleaning charm over himself, not brave enough to face the water this early in the year. Not when magic would take care of things until he got back to the den.
"I just...things aren't so easy to get over, that night..." Harry began falteringly.
"You don't have to explain anything to me, Harry," Fenrir said, turning where he stood, now waist deep in the water.
Harry shifted forward, so his legs could hang off the jut of the river. His legs tingled as they slid into the rushing cold water – not as icy as he would've imagined but cool enough to make him shiver. He fastened the cloak round his shoulders and watched as Fenrir slid closer. "Tell me about your parents?" he asked, just needing to know more. Fenrir stopped in front of him, reaching for the clasp of the cloak that held it completely shut around Harry's body and flicking it open so that the fabric fell to the grass.
Shuddering slightly, Harry remained otherwise still, holding that gaze and feeling slightly roughened fingertips sliding over his shoulders.
"In a minute," Fenrir said distractedly, "after."
Harry frowned. "After what?" That devilish grin was his only answer, before Fenrir seized his shoulders more tightly and pulled him forward so they both flew backward into the river with a crash. Laughing, spluttering and swearing all at once as they surfaced, Harry swatted at the water, satisfied when it slapped into Fenrir's face enough to make him squint and rub at his eyes. Harry swam backward toward the middle of the stream and swept a hand over his face to brush his soaked hair out of his eyes, glad for the charm on his glasses to keep them in place on his head and clear of water, smears and condensation.
Fenrir swam forward to follow him, face alight with playfulness and delight, bringing with it the ease they'd awoken to this morning. Harry was glad of it, so glad he let Fenrir wrap his arms round him under the water and kiss him.
Sometime later, dry and clean, they eventually found their way back to the tunnels. Harry closed the cloak around him gratefully as the chill nipped at his skin in the cool labyrinth. They were close to the gate now and he was trying to make his damp hair lie flat as they walked. Draco was sure to make a comment about 'just-fucked' hair...
"It's so...unnerving, knowing they'll all know I'm...pregnant the second they smell me," Harry said with a wince. "It's bad enough they can all smell it when we have sex."
Fenrir chuckled. "You're the only one that's squeamish about it all – except Draco, probably. "You don't have to be embarrassed." Fenrir himself, however, was wearing such a pleased expression that Harry just knew...
"You like that it embarrasses me though, don't you?" he said. "It turns you on, doesn't it?" His only answer was Fenrir's smirk. Harry thumped him hard with an elbow as they walked, without any real annoyance but with a very real tinge to his cheeks. "Pervert."
Draco was the one who came to open the gates for them and sure enough he flashed Harry a knowing grin as they walked toward the stone circle where breakfast was still going on. Harry's stomach grumbled eagerly at the smell of bacon, sausage and eggs. The fish had been delicious but, there was always room for seconds. He was growing another life now, after all.
"Have fun?" Draco asked, eyebrows quirked.
Harry glared. "If there are any dog lover jokes," he warned, only to see Draco's smirk.
"You are a prude, aren't you? I was just asking," Draco said lightly. Before they could needle each other any further, Larentia came into view, Kirian's hand clasped in hers as they approached. They stopped. Kirian looked a little tired but alright, unharmed and Larentia seemed to be in her element. Harry studied his son's uncertain expression, watched his little nose twitch as he tested the slight scent change on the breeze. His head cocked to one side and he blinked at Harry and then Fenrir for a moment, before barreling towards them.
"Alpha! Daddy!" He cried out, flinging his arms round Harry as he all-but slammed into him, resting his head on Harry's stomach, the fur cloak brushing against his cheek. "Did it work?" Kirian asked eagerly, looking up at Harry and Fenrir as best he could without letting his death grip on Harry's thighs loosen. Fenrir was pulling on trousers that Larentia had handed him as she approached, a shirt and trousers draped over Larentia's arm for Harry, who was unable to extract himself from his son to take them at the moment. Fenrir glanced at Harry and then smoothed Kirian's wayward auburn locks back.
"It did, my boy. You're going to be a big brother," Fenrir murmured, face and voice warm as he looked down at his son.
Kirian beamed, squeezing Harry tight and turning his head so his nose was practically pressed against Harry's stomach. "It's there? Doesn't look different."
Harry laughed. "It'll grow. After a little while you might even be able to feel it," Harry said softly, extracting his son's arms from round him so he could kneel and examine his face. It looked like some egg had made its way onto his cheek already but otherwise he was the same bright-eyed little boy he'd left the night before. Relief and comfort swept through his stomach at feeling him, seeing him right there. He knew he'd have to learn to give him some space, some freedom, but right now, with Kirian's little fingers digging into the fur cloak, grinning at him, he thought it was alright for them both to indulge.
"Were you a good boy for Larentia?" Harry asked and Kirian nodded seriously.
"It was a good moon – Vilkas found a mouse–"
"Let's have this conversation over breakfast," Fenrir said, swinging Kirian up onto his shoulders and leading the way toward the stone circle.
Harry smiled at Kirian's squeal of delight and took the clothes Larentia offered him gratefully, pulling them on as discreetly as he could.
"Congratulations," she said warmly and Harry tilted his head to see her honest but thoughtful expression.
"I...thank you," he replied, not knowing what else to say. She'd bloomed so beautifully since Kirian had been born, but he knew the bone-deep yearning for what she could never have would always be there.
As if sensing his thoughts, she smiled wryly. "Don't look at me like that," she insisted lightly. "I'm happy for you both. I am. Besides, I'm still waiting for that someone who'll make it easier to forget."
Harry gave a tight nod. "I wish I could do something to help you, that's all." It's not fair, he thought, almost instantly hearing Professor Snape's admonishment of "life isn't fair."
"You help enough," she promised, squeezing his shoulder before leaving his side to take her place in the circle. Harry sat down beside an excitedly chattering Kirian, who was asking Fenrir what they'd had to do to put the baby in there.
"It's full moon magic," Fenrir said simply, filling a bowl with Harry's favourites before passing it to him. "A ritual you might say."
Kirian's eyes went wide. The questions only kept coming. It was a good job they had a trip to Diagon Alley planned, that should distract him sufficiently. Harry ate his breakfast in quiet contentment, letting Fenrir deal with the awkward questions of youth...
The most invaluable advice anyone had ever given Harry was probably that of Professor Snape (of all people) on how to deal with the press. He gave them just enough to keep them satisfied and he was able to go out in public without being swamped. People still gave him a nod or a smile, some even insisted on clasping his hand and shaking it with both of theirs as they thanked him. Some did all of these things whilst crying. But that he could handle, that he could accept. That, he thought, would ensure he could never forget the sacrifices everyone had made.
Kirian and Teddy loved Diagon Alley. Even if Kirian practically hugged his side as he walked, one hand clutching his blanket while the other clutched Harry's tightly. Teddy was the opposite, often trying to dash off ahead but they both practically dragged him along the street, eager to reach each shop.
Perhaps they should have waited a few days for this trip, emotions were still always a bit flighty after the moon and Harry felt a little uneasy, protective over Kirian and Teddy and unsettled, unused to the thought of the new little life inside him. But the boys loved their forays into the wizarding world so much it was impossible to deny them. It was with a grin that he watched Teddy bound toward Fortescue's and Kirian tug urgently on his hand as he hurriedly followed, dragging Harry with him.
He was beyond relieved that living in the seclusion and safety of Shae and the Valley hadn't affected the boys' eagerness for the wizarding world's wonders. He could accept and understand Fenrir's reservations, but he wanted to share it with Kirian - it was a part of him, after all and he shouldn't grow up not understanding it like Harry had had to.
"Pink one," Kirian decided after a scrunching his face up in concentration, pointing to the Strawberry Sensation flavoured ice-cream. Teddy was already devouring his mint chocolate chip. Harry slid a hand absently, affectionately through his son's hair and nodded at Florean, counting the sickles and knuts up in his free hand.
"Ice cream in January?" Florean mused, taking the money and passing Harry his change.
"They don't feel the cold," Harry laughed, taking the hot chocolate for himself. "My one definitely doesn't anyway."
In a perfect example of how accepted the werewolf curse had become in recent years, Florean smiled as he glanced down at Kirian, happily devouring his ice cream. "Takes after his father, eh?" he said with kind amusement.
Prickling a little at the implication that Harry was the 'mother' - even though he was, Harry nodded after a moment's hesitation.
"He's shot up since last I saw you, I must say he looks a great deal like your mother, Mr Potter," Florean continued. "Is this your one too?"
Harry glanced over just in time to see Teddy rubbing his head where he'd gotten a brain freeze from eating his ice cream too fast. At that moment, his mop of sandy hair turned icy blue. Kirian laughed, nearly choking on his own mouthful. "He's my godson," Harry said, rubbing Kirian's back until the coughing ceased. Things like this he could deal with with a sense of calm compose. He wasn't a completely neurotic parent. It was only when he couldn't reach him, when control was taken away, when circumstance forced him into that same mental state. He winced. And he was going to go to Hogwarts each day? Who was he kidding?
The mountain of a barrier troubled him all the way through Diagon Alley, even as they stepped into Quality Quidditch Supplies and to his surprise, Kirian bolted from his side along with Teddy toward the Cirrostratus Junior Brooms on display. Kirian was so shy sometimes, reserved and he wondered if his uncertainty was making that worse. Biting the inside of his mouth, he watched as Kirian and Teddy animatedly swooned over the model that was on the plinthe, marked with a sign that invited customers to try it. Kirian could be brave and excited and carefree. He wanted that for him. Wanted more of this, bright smiles and giddy laughter that wasn't touched by uncertainty whenever Harry wasn't by his side.
Drawing in a breath of bravery, he glanced to Dean, who was the assistant on the floor today and said, "Ginny about today?" They'd been together three years now and as the Harpies' best player, she was in here more often than not regardless of their relationship.
"Across the road, mate," Dean said brightly, lifting the divider in the counter and stepping through onto the shop floor. "The twins are busy today, she's lending them a hand."
Harry hesitated. He'd been counting on her presence, but then...Dean had been his friend since he was eleven and he was an honorary Weasley now as much as Harry...
"Mind if you watch the boys for me while I pop over and see them?" he asked, glancing to where Kirian and Teddy hadn't even noticed he wasn't standing beside them anymore. "I'll only be ten minutes."
Dean blinked, surprised and Harry felt his cheeks colour a little, knowing that the 'teasing' remarks about his overprotective parenting were legendary among his close friends. Evidently realising his expression betrayed his thoughts, Dean hurried to reply, "Of course. No trouble," and with that he made his way to the boys and began enthusiastically asking who'd be the first to try the broom. Harry's head stuttered in relief as he heard his boy declare excitedly that it had to be him. It was good, so good to hear.
Initiative, bravery, independence, the things Fenrir was always talking to him about. Kirian could do things without him and Harry had to encourage him to do so before it was too late. But how did he find the fine line between affection and coddling? He closed his eyes as he stepped out into the cobbled streets, light drizzle greeting his face and hair. Tipping his head skyward to meet it, he sighed, remembering his childhood, the loneliness and the shock when Hermione's arms had wrapped around him in his first hug of his memory...
Shaking the melancholy thoughts away, Harry pulled his cloak tighter round himself and let his hand ghost his flat stomach, before crossing the street to Weasley Wizard Wheezes. It was exceptionally busy for a week day and Harry couldn't find any of the Weasleys in the crowd within at first.
"Mr Potter!" An elderly man cried, reaching out with the hand not clasped around his young grand daughter's arm to grasp Harry's. Harry felt a frisson of unease ripple through him at the touch, so close to his very vulnerable stomach but found a smile for the man anyway. It wasn't his fault everyone did this when they saw him after all, or that Harry 's instincts were making him...wobbly.
"Hi," Harry said amicably, shaking the man's hand.
"I expect you hear it all the time Mr Potter but thank you, thank you so much. It's such a pleasure to meet you," the man said, shaking his hand for a moment longer before letting go. "We owe so much to you, Mr Potter."
Harry continued to smile. "I wasn't alone, really. I wouldn't have got as far as I did without my friends." He glanced around the shop, trying to spot a flash of red hair.
"So modest too," the old man said warmly. "We haven't seen you in public since Christmas time." 'We' meant the wizarding world courtesy of the press, Harry supposed. The man continued, "What great things can we expect from you this year?"
Harry considered the man and the little girl, watching him with wide, awed eyes. These people only saw the Boy Who Lived, he supposed, saw greatness and eagerly anticipated more. He dragged his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck awkwardly and sighed. "No greatness for me, I'm afraid. Just...enjoying life with my family. I've had more than enough adventure for this lifetime." The disappointment was evident, but it was best really. He didn't want to be special or have to live up to their expectations. If he chose a career in the future, when Kirian and the little bump were older, it would be for him and no one else.
"I'm at a place in my life where I can dedicate myself to the family I've always wanted, I'm happy with that right now," Harry said.
"Can I quote you on that, Harry?" A familiar, simpering voice intoned. Harry winced, gritting his teeth and turning to see Skeeter sashaying towards them. "You know I might think you were avoiding me, Harry. You always seem to give your exclusives to the Quibbler and Witch Weekly and my owl can never find you." She brushed the feather of her quill at the underside of her chin. "Come now, Harry. We're old friends, surely you have some juicy news for us? I haven't managed to catch you since Mr Weasley became the youngest head Auror last year."
Harry remembered. It'd been at a big party held at the Longbottom household to celebrate Ron's big promotion and Skeeter had managed to unfortunately catch Fenrir and press him for information on what the 'Wizarding World's Savior' was like in bed. It cheered Harry a little to remember her eyes flashing with fear as Fenrir had bared his teeth at her. Lifting his chin, Harry stared her defiantly in the face.
"You never learn, do you?" he asked coldly. "I have nothing to say to gossip mongers, especially one that wouldn't know the truth if it bit her in the–"
"Harry!" Ginny's bright voice called, her arm swinging round his shoulders as she came to his side. "I didn't know you were coming." She beamed at him, then turned her beautiful false smile on Skeeter. "Here's a quote for you, Anita–"
"Rita," Skeeter said icily.
Ginny beamed. "Of course, how silly of me. Anyway, Harry saved everyone. He dedicated his youth to doing that, he's entitled to live his life in peace now. No one has any right to expect anything from him." With that, she steered Harry away from her and toward the safety of the space behind the front desk. "You can thank me for saving you later," she said with a grin, pushing a cup of tea into his hands. "You know if you explode at her it'll only make things worse. Give her a line or two like you do the other reporters then make your way to safety."
Harry sighed. "I know, it's just her. She gets me every time. She knows how to wind me up."
"Dealing with an almost five-year-old and Fenrir Greyback hasn't taught you patience?" she teased, turning to serve one of the customers as she talked to him. "What're you in town for today?"
Harry sipped his tea, enjoying the warm buzz of the shop. It always felt like happiness in here, bright, excited and cheerful. Like a snow globe filled with laughter and toys. He loved it here. "Picking up a few bits for Vilkas so when he comes up in the summer for his school things he only has to worry about the exciting stuff. And I promised Kirian and Teddy a trip. It's weird you know, I wonder if my parents would've brought me here all the time if they'd lived. It feels...nice, to share this with him. He shares so much of the werewolf traditions with Fenrir so to be able to share my world with him is..."
He realised the woman Ginny was serving was listening and watched her face transform as she made the connection between his words and his face. She flushed. "Mr Potter! Oh, thank you, please, thank you so much..."
Harry braced himself and saw Ginny secretly rolling her eyes, but then...
"Thank you so much for standing for the bill for Werewolf Rights. My daughter was bitten at the beginning of the war and you've transformed her life!"
Harry hadn't been expecting that. He blinked stupidly as she grasped his hand and tears sprung to her eyes. "She is able to have a life now thanks to the hard work of yourself and Mr Lupin."
"Remus does all the hard work; I just sort of...use my name. It helps with publicity." He winced at how that sounded but the woman seemed unperturbed.
"He just stands there and looks pretty," Ginny teased.
"Well whatever you do, it works. You're such an inspiration to her, Mr Potter. She even managed to get a job because of you – times have changed; prejudices have changed because of you."
As the woman departed, Harry found his cheeks burning as Ginny regarded him. "I know we all tease you, but you really do touch peoples lives. Not just because of Voldemort."
"Because I fell in love with Fenrir Greyback?" he suggested.
She tilted her head to the side, smiling fondly. "That and because you didn't let prejudices stop you from falling, from standing up for what you wanted. People gained courage from yours, from you daring to live the way you wanted instead of how everyone else thought you should." She squeezed his shoulder. "Don't forget that." With that, she glanced around to ensure there was no one within earshot and then murmured, "So when's this one due?"
Harry's eyes widened. "How did you...?"
"You flinched when I touched you earlier and you keep touching your stomach," she said softly.
Harry went red.
"You weren't that obvious don't worry," she said consolingly, "I just know you well enough." She flicked him playfully on the shin with her foot. "I'll keep your secret. So? When?"
"End of June," Harry whispered, "And I know it's stupid, with me going back to do the resit course and everything but–"
"Harry," Ginny said sharply. "If you killed Voldemort then you can resit your NEWTs while pregnant. And honestly, I don't think you listened to a word I just said. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, you're happy, right?"
A smile touched the corner of Harry's lips. "Yeah. Yeah I am. Feels like everything is falling into place.
She nodded. "Right, so as long as you're happy with the way your life is going..." She trailed off then, as if just realising something. "I thought you said Teddy and Kirian were with you?"
Harry laughed. "Delayed reaction. Yeah, I... I left them with Dean for a few minutes." He glanced to the clock on the wall. "Have to be getting back really."
Ginny was watching him with raised eyebrows as he downed the rest of his tea and made his way back round the counter. "You really are pushing for changes aren't you?" she asked thoughtfully. "Harry, Kirian is a lovely boy and you're a wonderful dad. Don't fret so much, alright?" She poked him hard in between his eyebrows. "You'll get premature wrinkles."
Harry carried her teasing smile and the reassurance it filled him with all the way back to Quality Quidditch supplies, only to find Kirian riding the Cirrostratus about two feet off the ground in whipping circles, squealing with delight. Harry leant against the door frame and observed his unrestrained joy and laughter. Fenrir sometimes confessed he worried that Kirian would lack independence as he grew because of the way he clung to Harry, but he looked just as free and happy as any other child. He would be fine, Harry thought, relieved that his experiment hadn't ended in disaster. It would be easier to convince the wolf in him to step away next time.
Baby steps, the voice that sounded very much like Hermione whispered in his head. We'll get there in the end.
Harry stretched out in the bed slowly, groaning as Fenrir slid out of him, his large hand smoothing across Harry's belly as he spooned against his back. "Was that really necessary?" he asked breathlessly, though amusement touched his words, "you hardly needed to reassert your claim. No one is going to molest me at Hogwarts."
Fenrir snorted, nuzzling his nose into Harry's hair and stroking his stomach. "Fucking you is always necessary," he murmured affectionately, "I can't wait 'til the baby gets bigger. I love seeing you full of me."
Harry flushed. "Pervert, I happen to hate looking like I've swallowed a quaffle," he complained, even though the rough, warm sound of Fenrir's desire made his spent cock twitch. He squirmed, wondering if it'd be better to have a quick bath or use a spell to clean himself before his first day.
As if reading his mind, Fenrir said, "Keep my scent on you, it'll help."
With a wince, Harry banished the unwanted fluids from him and turned in Fenrir's arms to look at him. It felt nice in this bed of furs, right, warm, safe. Nervousness of today had been creeping up on him slowly and now his stomach was tense with anticipation of the day ahead. It'd be so much easier just to stay here in their bubble. He pressed his nose to Fenrir's throat and just breathed. "Help with what?" he murmured softly.
"Your...instincts," Fenrir mumbled, "you'll be on edge being around so many potential threats with the cub. This should make it easier."
Harry lifted his head with a raised brow to regard Fenrir. "Ah, so it was purely for my benefit, was it?" he mused.
Fenrir smirked. "A man's got to do his duty, it's difficult sometimes but..."
Harry slapped his arm and reluctantly tore himself from bed. "I've got to get ready. I still have to take Kirian to Eithne before I floo to McGonagall's office." As he cast a hasty cleaning charm and then starting dressing himself, he caught sight of Fenrir watching him with his head propped up on one hand. "What?" Harry asked cautiously, feeling the uncertainty radiating from him to mix with his own.
Fenrir shook his head fractionally. "Just tell me, are you doing this because you have something to prove or because this is what you want?"
Hesitating, Harry concentrated harder than he needed to on his plain white shirt and then approached the bed. Fenrir's hand reached out to stroke the back of his thigh affectionately.
"Bit of both," Harry admitted. "I want to make my mum and dad proud, I want to prove that Voldemort didn't win, that I can still get the marks I was meant to get and... Well, I want to do something for me too. I miss Hogwarts and I won't be barefoot and pregnant or chasing around after toddlers forever. When my kids are grown and don't need me anymore I want to do something worthwhile."
Fenrir's lips quirked and Harry shuddered at the soft wave of pride that tickled his senses. "You said pregnant," he mused.
Harry scowled and his cheeks burned but Fenrir was right, he had said it without thinking. As if it'd come naturally. "Either way," he said, avoiding that particular issue. "It's what I want. I need this, Fenrir." He sighed, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together, eyes closed. "Don't worry about me so much. I've survived a lot worse than school."
Fenrir snorted.
"And you're sure you'll be able to leave Kirian?" he asked carefully. If Harry weren't fully aware that Fenrir could sense his growing unease, he would have accused him of having no faith in him.
"Only one way to find out," Harry said, squeezing his mate's shoulder before heading into Kirian's room.
"Where are you going?" Kirian asked cautiously as Harry lowered himself to his knees in front of the boy in Eithne's living room. The old woman watched fondly from her seat in the nearby armchair and Harry gave her a reassuring smile before grasping Kirian's shoulders.
"I'm going to school, remember we talked about this?" Harry tried. Kirian worried the corner of his blanket uncertainly. Harry flicked at the underneath of his chin with his middle knuckle, the way Fenrir sometimes did to him. "Just for a few hours each weekday, then I'll come and pick you up. And you'll be with Eithne the whole time. She'll look after you."
Kirian glanced to Eithne, who Harry knew he adored, but then Kirian leant in, pressing his forehead into Harry's. "Who'll look after you?" he murmured, his face torn with anxiety.
Harry smiled. "Kiri," he murmured, stroking the back of the boy's head. "Snape'll look after me," he said then, hitting inspiration. To Severus' shock, Kirian was fascinated by him. True to form, he perked up at that and then glancing at Eithne, he wrapped his arms round Harry's neck.
Something clenched and twisted in Harry's chest. He felt lost for breath and as if he might be sick at the same time. He closed his eyes, squeezing Kirian tight and turning his head to nudge against his neck. "Be a good boy for me, yeah?" he murmured and after a moment, there was a soft nod into his neck. Harry's instincts roared in negation, trying to freeze his limbs screaming to pull his cub close and do away with human needs interfering. But this wasn't just about his identity and the fine balance he kept between wolf and human, it was about Kirian's future balance as well.
Slowly he forced himself to stand, quashing the howling wolf in his guts and making his way to the floo.
He was breathing hard as he tumbled out of it into McGonagall's office, only just catching himself on the chair before the fire. McGonagall was sitting at her desk, watching him with a warm smile as he dusted himself off, breathing hard and feeling quite sick. The woman gestured to the cup of tea on the far side of the desk and Harry returned her smile, sipping gratefully at the peppermint scented liquid.
When at last his stomach settled, he put the cup down in the saucer and met her eyes.
"Welcome back, Mr Potter," she said lightly. "Are you ready to join your classmates? They are gathered in the Trophy Room ready for their induction."
Harry snatched a biscuit off the plate on the desk and held it up as if toasting his future. "Let's go," he said.
There was a surprisingly varied age range in the thirty or so students waiting in the Trophy Room behind the Great Hall. Some were older than him, some were younger, a few like Romilda Vane, Millicent Bulstrode and Terry Boot he recognised by name as he slipped in, hoping that the question Filch had distracted McGonagall with would keep her busy long enough so that it didn't look like they'd arrived together. He didn't want any special treatment. By the look of the faces of his classmates and the soft whispering that broke out as he closed the door, he was in for a peculiar term as it was.
Feeling self-conscious and uncharacteristically shy, he descended the steps to join them in the centre of the room, standing awkwardly on the edge of the group, unsure what to do.
"Harry!" A familiar voice called as a body pushed through the small crowd.
Harry felt relief rush through him at the surprising sight of Katie Bell heading towards him. She beamed as she reached him.
"I'd heard you might be coming from Ginny at Wheezes. I'm so glad to see you. it's wonderful, isn't it? This resit course? It just wasn't right for some of us right after the war, was it? And apparently this course will be offered to loads of people who failed their NEWTs before and need a second chance as well..." Her voice seemed to break the ice and the ripple of awe that had settled through the room. Everyone was talking again, almost normally and a few faces like Romilda and Terry drew closer to him.
Harry relaxed. A lot had changed, yes, but he had never been a nervous wallflower. He'd always recklessly put himself out there without worrying what everyone else thought. He didn't want to let the nerves gnawing at him win over, just because he wasn't in his comfort zone, that wasn't who he was. And you've always said you wanted balance between the wolf and the wizard. This was just another test of that.
All of a sudden, the door opened and McGonagall stepped in. The room fell silent. For a moment, Harry was dragged back to the time he'd first laid eyes on her. Her hair was almost white now and her face more lined but everything felt the same. He felt a little warmer at that.
"...You will arrive via the special floo connection set up in this room each morning - it is warded to accept only you through it in either direction," the woman was explaining. "I have here your schedules for the weeks to come. I realise it will be an...adjustment for some of you, but I have every faith in your abilities. I will act as your liaison, if you have any questions. Of course your tutors will be happy to assist you as well. This is the first time we are running this course and we are determined to do everything we can to ensure its success - your success. That success means that we might continue this for future generations."
There were a few questions, a few measured responses from the Headmistress and then she stepped to the side of the door. "Please keep the lanyards with your passes on you at all times within the school grounds. You will take your lessons in the standard classrooms as written on your sheets. Do any of you need assistance in finding your way to Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom 3? No? Off you go then."
The classroom that had seen so many professors now had the students' desks arranged in a wide circle that dominated the room, leaving a huge space in the centre. The currently vacant teacher's desk had been pushed into one corner, yet drew the gaze of every student as they took their seats. Harry fiddled with his wand on the desktop as he waited. Terry and Romilda had taken seats either side of him and to his surprise Millicent seemed to have taken the one next to Terry. He didn't join in with the pleasant chatter they carried out around him but he felt included. His nerves abated a little. He fought the urge to lay a calming hand on his stomach. He doubted the baby could feel his nerves yet.
After a moment or so, the door to the office at the far side of the room opened and the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher surveyed them, before sweeping down the curved stairs and making their way into the centre of the circle formed by the desks. "Welcome, the first Adult Education Class in Hogwarts' history," greeted the brown haired woman. She was of average height but lithe, long-limbed and with hair that swept into her eyes. She must have been around thirty and at first glance Harry thought would look more fitting on a cover of Witch Weekly rather than in a Defence classroom.
Reminding himself sharply not to judge books by their cover (in a tone alarmingly similar to Hermione's) he sat up a little straighter and gave her his full attention as she wrote on the vast blackboard in contrastingly sharp, bohemian handwriting: Professor Sabia Fyerhyde. The name prickled at the back of Harry's subconscious. It sounded familiar, though he couldn't place why – he'd never seen nor heard of her before, of that he was sure. As Fyerhyde scanned the class, he was sure that her gaze hesitated over him for the briefest of moments.
"...I have worked in the handling of dangerous creatures on behalf of the Ministry since I left Hogwarts myself when I was seventeen," Fyerhyde was explaining, turning slowly as she spoke to ensure she made eye contact with everyone. "I've some experience in curses and battles because of this and hope you'll find my experience beneficial." She drew her wand from her pocket and flicked it at the topmost book on her desk, drawing it toward her across the air.
Harry's skin prickled. Her magic, it wasn't like those of his classmate's. He felt it in the chair he sat in, in the ground underfoot. His eyes widened and he drew in a breath, hand resting on his stomach and eyes widening. Her gaze fell on him again and instantly he knew. The magic was surrounded by the scent, the feel of werewolf magic. She worked or lived in close proximity to werewolves – he just knew it. He wanted to slap himself for not realising sooner, but now she was watching him as she explained how they would revise the first 6 years' syllibus on the first few lessons before moving onto 'NEWT Exam' work and Harry knew that she knew.
He shifted in his seat, hand resting on his flat stomach as he looked vigilantly at the book in front of him, opening up to the page she spoke of. McGonagall and Snape couldn't have known or they would have warned him but at the same time, Fyerhyde had started two years ago, it couldn't be because of him that she was here. He swallowed, forcing himself to concentrate and calm the grumbling unease of the wolf within. She wasn't pack and that equated to enemy to a wolf, but he was also human and she was a teacher, one who'd done nothing more than recognise him.
Stop seeing danger wherever you go, the voice like Hermione's hissed in annoyance in his head. You're not the Chosen One anymore, just Harry Potter.
Just Harry Potter, he told himself. So suck it up and work...
To Be Continued…
