It's so bittersweet to post the final chapter of this story. I hope it rounds up Harry and Fenrir's story nicely. Thank you so much to everyone who's been on this journey with me and everyone who's turned up after its completion. This story means so much to me and I'm so happy to share it with you all. I'm going to write a long one-shot for Echo and Draco for sure that'll be posted soon. Maybe one day in the future I'll write another adventure for our favourite werewolf family but for now this story is done. It's been a difficult year for and you've all made it so much more bearable. I can't thank you enough beautiful people. Please enjoy!

Heavenly

Chapter Eight

The steps through the Valley were a blur, with soft mutterings carrying from their pack mates who kept a knowing distance. When Harry finally released his grip on Fenrir's fur, they were in the warmth of their den and the lights went low, as if sensing that was what was needed at this moment. Harry slid onto their bed, shedding the fur cloak and curling up on his side, just breathing for now.

The silver wolf curled around him, watching the door that had closed behind them. He could smell Kirian just beyond it, he was safe too. Everything was going to be alright. He couldn't say those words aloud right now, but instead nosed at the back of Harry's head, licking gently. Harry arched his neck and fidgeted awkwardly for some time, rocking forward onto his knees and burying his face in the furs. He cried out, the sound almost human this time. Fenrir's ears flicked. He shuddered and as his muscles rippled with the movements, they morphed back and his human body sat beside Harry, a large hand cupping the back of his neck.

Forcing his mind to provide something, anything he thought would help ease the pain thrumming through him that was not his own, Fenrir found himself whispering gruffly, "Harry. I'm here." The sound was almost foreign on his tongue, gravel-rough and low, but Harry rocked forward a final time and cocked his head to look at him through a sweaty fringe. There was a flicker of a smile within the grimace.

Harry nodded. He couldn't speak, his instincts still superior but he understood. He knew he wasn't alone this time. Usually green eyes flicked to the door and Fenrir rubbed his back in slow, deliberate circles. "Kirian…Safe," the Alpha said. Again, a nod was his only answer. Harry closed his eyes and continued rocking slowly on his hands and knees.

When the sun had dipped below the horizon, a tired, sweat-damp Harry lay sprawled on his side, almost unconscious from exertion. Fenrir swept his fringe back off his forehead and let his thumb caress the scar there in silent promise. Then he felt Harry wince, heard him let out a low, surprised gasp. He reached between his legs and Fenrir's nose twitched as he inhaled the odd smell, the one that'd clung to their bed all those years ago, when he'd arrived to see the carnage of birth but no Kirian and no Harry.

Gritting his teeth, Fenrir looked down and saw the sheets damp beneath him. Unsure how best to act, he reached to help Harry off of the wet patch of bed but Harry growled in negation, crawling forward to grab hold of the thick wooden carved headboard. He shifted on his knees, spreading them wide and bowed his head into the headboard between his spread hands.

Fenrir wanted to lean in, to comfort low rumble in Harry's throat as he tensed was all the warning he needed. This was the test he had to face, to be there for his mate but let nature take its course at the same time. "Love," Fenrir managed roughly, his tongue too big and his teeth too large in his human mouth as he tried to grasp what the human part of his mate might want to hear. Might need to hear.

"Fenrir?" Harry whispered back, his voice low, almost unrecognisable as his own. Fenrir shifted to kneel at Harry's side and stroked his sweaty hair, noting the gold eyes and fangs that made his name sound all wrong.

"Mmm." Fenrir leant in, covering Harry's hands with one of his and closing his eyes. "Love you." It was all raspy emotion and wolf nipping at the edge but it was theirs. Harry didn't answer. He tucked his head down into his chest and screamed.

It felt as if his innards were ripping in four different directions and pushing in to squeeze him to death from the inside at the same time. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't fill his lungs with air no matter how hard he panted. He tucked his chin harder into his chest until it dug painfully into the skin and braced against the stretching, aching anguish. It was too much. Surely worse than before? Before the panic and the activity around him had distracted from it, he was sure, so sure…

A defeated low whine tumbled over his lips, a sharp stabbing whimper that twisted into a growl of determination. He let go of the headboard with one hand and cupped his pulsing stomach. He thought he was being split in two. The hand covering his, still gripping the headboard squeezed, as did the one massaging the nape of his neck. The latter slid down, covering the small of his back and for a moment, there was nothing, until a low, vibrating hum began to emanate from the rough fingers massaging firmly into that spot.

Harry groaned, not in pleasure or arousal but sheer relief. Magic was pulsing through him there and it spread, filling him with calming peace. A rough sound torn between hysteric laughter and a grunt left him and he kept his head down, gripping the headboard with both hands again.

So close.

As he relaxed, as he bore into the stretching, aching pain, he felt something slide further down. He shifted his legs wider, grit his teeth and bore down again. Again and again. He was gasping again, even despite his mate's magic as something pushed against his entrance. Panic burst in his throat like a torn artery and he choked, stunned for a moment at the sheer impossibility of it. He couldn't. It wouldn't, even if he knew he had to, it seemed unachievable.

The hand covering his squeezed again. He cried out and pushed through the doubt, the overwhelming, suffocating weight inside him. He felt something give and didn't stop. The rush of twisting pain was coming so fast he could barely draw breath in between them but he could suck in air frantically and bear into it.

Instinctively, he released the headboard and tucked his arms under himself, lowering his upper body to the bed and giving a final push before something wet, slimy and wriggly landed softly between his legs on the already wet sheets. He didn't move. It was impossible. For a moment he was blind and immobile, able only to listen at the first gurgling screech his child took. He smiled dazedly, even as everything hurt and his body still trembled with spasms inside, eager to expel the rest of his pregnancy.

He felt movement and when he opened his eyes it was to see his mate leaning back at his side against the headboard, a naked infant damp with fluids against his chest. There was blood too, his, Harry's blood. Harry frowned but the child smelt whole, smelt bursting with life and it was squalling loudly, clearing its throat of any lingering mucus. He closed his eyes and tried to breath again as his body finished what it started.

He was so exhausted that he was sure he passed out, because the next thing he knew, he was lying on his side on the far side of the bed, away from the damp mess of sheets on the clean stretch of furs. A hand wet with his own blood was stroking his head gently. His glasses were gone.

Lashes fluttering, Harry squinted to see his mate's hand retreating,see him morphing into the silver wolf's body. The large beast was licking at their infant's skin, cleaning it, letting it know this was his sire. The cord, Harry noted had already been bitten and sealed, but that was fine, he really was too tired and Fenrir, Fenrir needed to be the one to do it, he supposed.

"S'good," he muttered, his human mind nowhere near in control but still lapping in and out like an ever-present tide. All of him was there, he hadn't missed a beat but he wasn't afraid to let things move the way nature intended for now. This must've been how Draco felt when he'd had Astrid. Aware but calm, tired but happy, safe, warm. It was good.

His cub made a little whine as Fenrir nudged it onto its side so he could lick its back clean and Harry stretched one arm out, the other stroking his abused, nearly flat stomach. From where he lay, just the tip of his outstretched fingers could brush a tiny foot. He crooned softly and the infant fell silent, squinting tiny eyes open. A piercing ice blue gaze looked straight at him and after a heartbeat, a low, almost matching croon answered him.

Harry's eyes stung as everything overcame him. When a tear broke free and slid down his cheek, a huge wet tongue swiped it up. He winced, making a sound of protest but as he glanced up, he saw Fenrir sitting at his feet, still a wolf and nudging their cub gently with his paw. It looked so impossible, such a large beast touching such a tiny, pink thing, more human looking now it was clean. The nudge did the trick though and Harry bore the pain to reach for his fussing cub. The hair that was wet with antiseptic saliva now seemed to be a light mousey colour, perhaps Fenrir's hair colour before Azakaban had turned it dark silver. He made the crooning sound again as he cradled the infant against his bare chest and pulled the clean edge of fur up round it slightly, closing his eyes again.

The silver wolf's tongue lapped at the bloody hand print on his head and he bore it, allowed the wolf to clean him and take care of him as he'd done their cub. There was a soft sound of tired protest from the warm nook between his chest and arm, covered by furs. He glanced down and pressed his thumb to the corner of that tiny protesting mouth, helping it open and drawing it close so it could latch.

The sharp pain that lanced his chest made him cry out and the tongue that had been cleaning his back now paused. An aching, drawing sensation pulled and at the same time filled him with memories so potent they stole his breath. He glanced down at the little warm nook and saw a different face from his memories, similar but undeniably different. The tiny hands were curled contently now and when he inhaled, the scent was that of relaxed satisfaction too. He ducked his head to sniff eagerly at the curls of hair drying beneath his nose and let exhaustion take him.

When he opened is eyes again his body ached but any lingering stabbing pain or throbbing was gone. He still felt tired and his eyes felt nowhere near rested. He discovered that was because not much time seemed to have passed. But he felt clean, his mate was still a wolf, tugging the stained sheets off the bed with his teeth and pushing them into a far corner.

Harry frowned as he saw him heading toward the door and sat up. The sheet that had been covering him slid off and his slumbering little bundle fidgeted, whinging unhappily. Harry glanced down at the pale, perfect skin and reached for the cloth that almost matched the one Kirian still clung to, wrapping the tiny cub in the fabric and cradling it safely against his chest as he shifted laboriously up the bed. By the time he was leaning back against the pillows on the far (clean) side, it was apparent what Fenrir was doing. He'd managed to get the door open with a large paw and then Kirian was there, arms overloaded with blankets and furs. His nose twitched and Ghost stepped in behind him, before Fenrir nudged the door shut again.

"Smells funny," Kirian murmured and Fenrir huffed, leading Kirian and Ghost toward the bed.

Kirian spread the new sheets and furs on the bed and then clambered up and over onto Harry, accidently kneeing him in the stomach in his eagerness. Harry cried out, turning his head away to try and muffle the sound but Kirian froze. Bright green eyes filled with tears and Kirian scrambled back to the end of the bed. It must've been scary, to see his father be completely taken over when he himself was in his right 'd only ever seen Harry succumb when he too was under influence of the moon, after all.

Fenrir slid onto the bed, his massive body taking up one side and Harry pulled the furs with him, covering himself up to the shoulders so the cub cradled in his arm could still be seen and wouldn't be suffocated. A heavy sigh left him as he leant his pained body into Fenrir's side, resting completely there and letting the massive muzzle snuffle at his head and neck and then the cub's.

The infant whimpered in its sleep and Harry made an unnatural, animalistic hushing sound similar to his earlier croons. The noise made Kirian cock his head and Harry smiled at him, eyes still gold but teeth returned to their normal state again to make for a more pleasant sight. He pulled back the furs a little. Kirian crawled forward, more slowly this time until he too was lying against Fenrir having his head sniffed at, tucked into the nook between Harry's curled body and Fenrir's stomach.

Ghost settled easily on Harry's feet but Kirian was still tense, looking from Harry to the little creature swaddled close to his chest. Harry nodded, adjusting his hold so the child's face wasn't turned into his body so. Kirian didn't move and didn't acknowledge the subtle invitation.

"K…Kirian," Harry managed, struggled through, voice brought his free hand up to stroke his son's face, touch his hair and then touch the cub's in the same way, hoping he would understand. "Both," he said.

Kirian blinked big green eyes before reaching up to touch Harry's face then, more hesitatingly, the cub's. His fingers offered barely-there touches and Harry covered his tiny hand to let him connect a little more firmly, let him feel and smell that thick head of hair and entirely new scent. "Kirian's."

Kirian nodded, relaxing a little now and leaning into Harry a bit more, not looking away from the sleeping newborn. In this bizarre moment, Kirian was the one who was most in control, most aware of everything and yet he still didn't look like he understood what was happening. "Are you ok?" he asked and Harry smiled again, letting his cheek rest on Fenrir's fur. He nodded and curled the arm not supporting his newborn round Kirian so he was holding them both. This felt good. So good. Perfect.

"Good," he managed, just because Kirian needed it and the last of that resistance seemed to fade. It must've been late because Kirian looked bone-tired too, his eyes puffy and a large yawn tugging his mouth wide. Harry closed his eyes, catching the yawn. As he was drifting though, he felt Kirian nuzzle into him closer, felt a soft human nose pressing against the newborn's head, sniffing deeply and then…

"Dad? Where's his winkie?"

A soft, underdeveloped little cry tugged him from sleep. Harry blinked. The room was softly lit by the glow of the columns but the light picked up a little as he shifted up in bed, wiping sleep from his eyes. He glanced down and with still sleep-weary eyes, pulled the little wriggly bundle to his chest. Then stopped. His nose wrinkled and he sighed, laying the baby down on the bed and opening his hand, wandlessly summoning his glasses.

Then it all came back to him, just as it'd done in that cupboard all those years ago with Kirian. He'd been recuperating with his instincts in charge and now, apparently the time had passed. He remembered quite a few meals and the sounds of the evening celebrations outside in the circle. A few days at least then.

Harry glanced around to find the den empty and winced as he slid off the vast bed to the shelves nearby to snag a clean cloth nappy off the stack. He unfastened the soiled one, holding his daughter's feet up to keep her dirty backside elevated as he banished the mess and the soiled nappy, sliding a clean one under her. He frowned a little. He'd thought it'd feel weird, changing a girl but it was no different to Kirian really. There was just something missing. Magic made it all easier regardless.

He fastened the clean nappy and left her unswaddled for a moment so he could better look at her. Ten perfect tiny fingers and toes. He touched each one and then a tiny nose that reminded him of Kirian's. She blinked up at him and he smiled. Her eyes were still ice blue. Like Fenrir's. Her hair was a light mousey colour and she was fidgeting endlessly. Yes, that was the little fidget he remembered from inside him.

"Hello, beautiful," he said softly, his voice feeling raw and ragged in his unused throat. He snagged a deep drink from the pitcher of water from the side then swaddled his baby girl back up, pulling her to his chest and sitting up against the bed. Mmm, no, he fancied a bath. A tongue bath most definitely didn't count.

Snatching up the bouncer that'd been one of his gifts at the shower,he carried it and his daughter into the bathing room. With her fastened into it a good distance from the edge, he could slide into the water and keep an eye on her at the same down to his neck, he groaned at the sheer bliss of the warm, soothing water. He still felt tired and weak but everything else seemed fine. No aches, no pains. He closed his eyes for a second to enjoy the steam.

"Harry?" a voice called, sounding slightly panicked from the other room.

Harry cleared his throat. "In here," he said and a moment later Fenrir was in the room, glancing from the baby to him and seeming to realise Harry was back to his usual self.

"Welcome back," he said warmly, kneeling down beside the bouncer and scooping the baby girl up easily. It was such a warm sight. An odd one, to see such a delicate little girl cradled in powerful muscle, but good nonetheless. Harry smiled, sinking beneath the water to wet his hair and washing it quickly with the nearby shampoo. When he was clean, he climbed out the bath, mindful of his lingering weakness. Fenrir was still watching him as he dried himself.

"Do you remember when we had our first shower with Kirian at Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked, towel drying his hair and body. It felt good to talk after so long of only growling and grumbling.

Fenrir nodded with a wistful smile, watching him carefully. "We'll give her her first bath together when she's ready. How're you feeling?"

"Mmm," Harry said, dropping the towel and reaching for the long tunic shirt and shorts that sat on the shelf. When he was fully dressed, he came up short, torn between wanting to pull the cub back into his arms and admiring the sight of her with Fenrir.

"Still feeling the pull?" Fenrir mused, cupping the side of Harry's throat affectionately before easing the baby back into Harry's arms. "She's perfect, Harry. And you were amazing."

A flush touched Harry's cheeks. "And she's a 'she'," he said with a smirk. "How's Kirian taking it?"

Fenrir snorted. "He says he's going to have to take extra special care of her. He seemed delighted when he told Eithne just now – he was itching to tell her. He's with her and Teddy now."

They walked back into the living area and sat on the circle by the currently extinguished fire. It was warm still, but more comfortably so in the den. There was a tray of food nearby and Harry lay his daughter next to him as he pulled it toward him, eating hungrily. His stomach gurgled. The meat was rare but perfect. He took a swig of the juice as well and continued eating before he realised Fenrir was sitting next to him.

"I mean it, you were amazing," he said reverently, "I've never seen anything like it. Anything so…" He frowned, searching for the word. "Incredible." His frown deepened then. "You tore a little."

Harry swallowed his mouthful, the pain a dull memory. "It felt like it, yeah," he said indifferently. Pain was something he'd always had a high tolerance to. It wasn't something that had the ability to break him. It had been the emasculation he'd been worried about but he felt strangely…liberated. He felt like his normal self despite his sore chest. He flushed as he realised something about the tearing and the other ailments that seemed to have vanished. "Fixed that, did you?"

Fenrir gave him a smirk.

"I don't even want to know what you did with the afterbirth," Harry said, but even that image couldn't stop him from eating. He was famished.

With a laugh, Fenrir looked down and stroked the little girl's hair from her cheek. She blinked up at Fenrir, quite content for the moment. "She's stunning."

"Must take after me," Harry mused, only to earn a nudge in the side. He snorted and finished his food and the juice before setting the tray aside and lifting his daughter so she was laying against his drawn up knees. "I was really worried about how I'd handle a girl; you know?" he said thoughtfully.

"And now?" Fenrir murmured, shifting so he was leaning on his elbow on his side and regarding them both freely.

"Now?Now I just think she's ours and healthy and perfect and that's all that matters," Harry said with a shrug. "She is gorgeous though. I don't know how a pair of fuck-ups like us make such good looking children."

Fenrir laughed again and the sound was warm. They sat together for some time, Fenrir filling in the scattered gaps in Harry's memory. It'd been nearly a week. Fenrir had brought him food while Harry had remained in bed, accepting only Fenrir, Kirian and Ghost close to him. He'd kept the den mostly dark and cared for the cub himself.

"You let some of the pack come in to offer gifts," Fenrir said, gesturing to some of the baby clothes and toys stacked in the corner. "But there's someone…well, a few someones who arrived a day after she did. They've been waiting for a suitable time to honour her and you with gifts from their pack."

Harry bristled unintentionally. He already knew what Fenrir was about to say. "Dromon," he said roughly. "He wants to see her."

"Fyerhyde and Keenantoo," Fenrir said, voice giving nothing away, "they want to see you as well, to honour you as well as our daughter." Fenrir always spoke so formally when talking about werewolf traditions and customs.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the door as if someone would storm through at any moment. The thought of even his own pack entering his den with his vulnerable cub was unthinkable. He swallowed again, uneasy, looking longingly at his bed now. He'd forgotten this part when he'd had Kirian, the unwillingness to share his delicate newborn, the instinctive need to hide it away from the world.

"They can wait 'til you're ready," Fenrir said, bruishing his knuckles along the nape of Harry's neck. "Everyone knows how this works."

Harry bit the inside of his mouth. "But you want them to see her, don't you?"

Fenrir's expression was unreadable. "I want to show you both off, when you're ready," he said simply, his pride showing through. After a long, thoughtful pause, Harry listened carefully to the noise from outside.

"Is it the lunch round outside at the moment?" he asked, biting the inside of his mouth hard. This first step had been the most difficult with Kirian too, he remembered that clearly now. When Fenrir merely nodded his answer, Harry echoed the motion. "Good."

The direct sunlight was warm and bright as he stepped out into it, Fenrir close at his side. A feral rumble of apprehension made him tighten his arms around his daughter and he swallowed, the sight of the pack and some extra bodies gathered in the stone circle, eating jovially making his stomach flip. Oddly, he caught Malfoy's eye first and gave a small nod, forcing himself to move toward the vacant space he and Fenrir usually occupied.

Everything fell silent as he seated himself. He wondered if they hadn't expected to see him so soon or if it was uncommon for someone like him to step into such a social situation. There was no way of knowing. He shifted the sleeping baby girl in one arm and tried to find his voice as every eye fixed on him.

"Don't let me stop you," he said, his voice almost sounding like his own now. "I've already eaten." They complied at a more sedate pace, all eyes flickering often to him and the cub in his lap. Kirian, who had left Eithne's side to sandwichhimself between Harry and Draco, leant up to look at her and smiled at Harry.

"She's really small," he said brightly.

"You'll have to take extra care of her then, won't you?" Draco said and Kirian nodded seriously, biting into his lunch eagerly. A smile twitched at the corners of Draco's mouth as he met Harry's eyes. "How are those tits feeling, Potter?" he muttered for Harry's ears only.

Harry flushed darkly. "Fuck off, dickwad," he muttered without bite.

Draco laughed. "Oh, there's Potter alright. I have missed your wit. A growling, hormonal dog just isn't the same." His smile broadened as he sipped at his drink and tried to stop Astrid from wriggling out of his arms. "You've missed so much." He gestured with his head to their right and Harry blinked. Once. Twice. Larentia was sitting a few spaces down from them, with a fairly comfortable looking Snape at her side. Same dark robes and almost twist of a smile. Definitely Snape.

Larentia's long fingers grasped his knee as she laughed quietly, her usually severe face softened somewhat.

"When did…?" he began but his words were cut short as a shadow fell over him. He tensed, a growl beginning in his throat even as the three guests knelt before him, heads bowed. Dromon, Keenan and Fyerhyde. None of them lifted their heads, but the Alpha did raise his eyes cautiously while the others kept theirs averted. A sign of deepest respect. Harry felt everyone's instincts humming just below the surface, all in reverence for the little girl snuggled against him.

Still, it was most bizarre to have your ex-teacher kneeling in front of you.

With everything ringing in his ears, Harry lifted his chin, keeping eyes on the three as he pulled the soft swaddling cloth away from his daughter's face a little, all the better for everyone to see. Dromon let out a low sound of awe. His usually stern eyes glistened and he visibly swallowed, reaching in his cloak for something and producing a simple silver-hued chain with a small yet ornate pendant hanging on the end.

It must've beenforged from platinum, Harry guessed because Dromon was holding it without difficulty. Dromon lifted it up but rather than take the hanging chain, Harry raised his palm to cup the pendant. It was roughly the size of a muggle fifty pence piece, but oddly shaped.A smooth stone that seemed to glow brightest silver and then when the light caught it, flicker with such a multitude of colours that he struggled to identify each. It was like a rainbow trapped within the claws of platinum.

"Lupus Quartz," Fenrir murmured beside him, even his voice roughened by wonder. He glanced at Dromon. "Impossible to find. Where did you get it?"

Dromon cocked his head and smiled wistfully. "Our lands used to house a mine for the ore. It is all but depleted now, but this…this stone was said to belong to the first witch. It makes the wearer immune to silver."

Harry felt Fenrir tense beside him and knew what he was thinking, what horrors from his past he was recalling. Harry let his thumb brush the stone. "It's warm," he murmured and then glanced down as his little girl shifted in his arms, piercing blue eyes riveted to the sparkling blur above her. She was mesmerised. Harry sighed softly. "We can't accept this, it's too–"

"It is a gift for your cub, Alpha Numero, to honour our…treaty, to prove to you how sincere we are. We all honour the traditions of old and while we may have different opinions, that does not mean we must battle every step of the way." He bowed his head again, keeping the pendant aloft. "Please, wear it until your daughter is old enough to carry it herself. Our pack believe it was meant for you."

Harry hesitated. But it was for the baby in his arms, who already seemed enamored with it. He slid his hand up to take the pendant, but at the last moment, Fenrir took it instead, dropping it over Harry's head. As he did so, Dromon shifted back, still kneeling at Harry's feet which made him feel uncomfortably like royalty. The pendant was warm against his chest. The girl in his arms was studying it still with blinking eyes, a little frown on her face that looked so much like Kirian that Harry ached. Kirian stroked her head softly, glancing from her to Harry and he wondered if his little boy, always so in tune with his emotions, had sensed his flicker of nostalgia.

Keenan was leaning forward then, head bowed but eyes raised as his father had done. "Please, Alpha Numero, accept this gift for your cub and allow me to honour the treaty between our packs." He lifted a small box with a glass lid. Inside, Harry could see a near-translucent fish that's scales glowed gold and silver. "It is said for its restorative properties. Quite difficult to catch, but the nutrients for you and hence your cub are said to be unparalleled. My wife enchanted the case to keep it fresh." He lifted it more insistently. "Please, take it."

Fyerhyde said nothing but did offer a pleased smile that Harry couldn't help but return.

Harry nodded, unable to take the box himself with the girl in his arms, leaving Echo took it for him. This done, Dromon, Keenan and Fyerhyde remained kneeling and Harry glanced to Fenrir, uncertain. When his packmates had visited him to bestow gifts on his daughter, he'd acknowledged them in some way. Was this what this was meant to be? Uniting their packs?

Swallowing back the low pulse of warring protectiveness, Harry slid forward and grasped the back of Dromon's neck, pressing their foreheads together. He kept his eyes open and gave a short nod, allowing the man's large hand to pet his daughter's delicate head. The ultimate union of trust. He set his jaw, only allowing the smallest sound of distress to boil in his throat as Keenan and Fyerhyde did the same and then he sat back, feeling giddy from the rush of wolf instincts.

"Thank you," he said. His daughter fidgeted in his arms, kicking her legs weakly. "I hope you know as soon as I've…recovered a bit, I'll honour my promise to share my gift with your pack. You two first, as promised."

This timeFyerhyde spoke, shifting back away from Harry and onto her feet again as her husband rose beside her. "Yes. Alpha Numero, thank you. In your own time of course." Her smile broadened as she regarded Harry and his children. "We can happily wait a little longer for the chance at our own miracle." She squeezed her husband's hand and they both stepped away, retaking their seats. Dromon, however, leant forward and to Harry's shock, took the hand not supporting his daughter and pressed his wrinkled, stubble-circled lips to it.

"Bless you," he muttered and Harry blinked, stupefied by the show of reverence even as the man joined his son. The circle bubbled with talk once again and Harry stared at his hand, startled when Fenrir covered it with his own. The stark contrast of darker, worn skin against his was a comfort. Harry met blue eyes searchingly.

"Dromon is a stubborn man, but the sight of a newborn cub, the miracle of being allowed to touch and the honour of being able to present it with gifts, it's no small thing for us. You know this," Fenrir said, voice low and gravelly. "You know what a gift you are to us."

Harry gave a small breathless laugh. "I know she is," he said, tipping his chin to his daughter. "And Kirian and Astrid but…it's still bizarre, being so important to everyone. It's like being the Boy Who Lived all over again." His brow furrowed at the thought. "Well, not quite the same, I suppose."

"No," Fenrir agreed roughly. "In this, your life is more precious than anything. It's not a sacrifice to be made but a miracle to behold. The fact that you are the key to restoring our race is only an enhancement of that miracle."

Harry flushed, tugging his hand away with a smirk. "Ok, no more of that now. It's weird when you talk all Alpha Greyback to me like that," he mused and glanced up to see Echo watching him with warm eyes. Harry knew what they meant. He glanced at his daughter again, "We really need to think of a name for her," he said thoughtfully, inhaling deeply in search of courage as he offered the tiny precious thing in his arms up to Fenrir. "Let everyone have a turn with her, will you? I…I want them to but it's hard to do the actual…"

"Letting go?" Fenrir finished knowingly, his hard face softening as he considered Harry and then the little pink face topped with mousey hair. "I'll start the rounds. Make sure you take her back if you're feeling-" He cut off as Harry forced himself to urge Fenrir on and watched with a mixture of delight and anxiety as Echo took her into his arms.

"Goodness, don't get him pining for that newborn scent, Potter," Draco said woefully, but his expression was telling. Harry smirked at him as, at last, Astrid wriggled out of his arms and crawled frantically across the ground. She let out a squeal of delight as Marrok intercepted her and swooped her up and down like a muggle aeroplane.

"So, is the reason you missed me because you want some more time with Echo?" Harry hedged teasingly.

Draco flushed. "Sod off, Potter," he muttered and kept his eyes averted. "Deviant," he added when Harry kept looking at him. After a long time, when Harry's daughter had been passed round as far as Amoux, every person more enchanted with her than the last, Harry felt himself shifting anxiously. Malfoy clapped him hard on the back, effectively distracting him from his warring emotions. "So, have you overcome your aversion to pregnancy?" he asked.

Harry looked at Kirian, who was clumsily demolishing a large cream finger doughnut, the most of which was all over his face. Carding fingers through tousled auburn hair and earning himself a bright, creamy smile from the little boy, Harry then looked to Fenrir who was talking with Echo and yet had eyes only for the little bundle being passed around. He wore an expression of such pride and contentment that Harry ached a little, facing Draco in defiance of his welling hormones. "You know I think I just might have. I think Fenrir wants five," he mused with a small laugh.

Draco winced. "Good grief, it'll be a litter to rival the Weasleys."

"Worried you won't be able to keep up, Malfoy?" Harry hedged, all teasing and no seriousness in his voice. He couldn't imagine doing all this again another three times but, at least once more, he thought. Three sounded about right. And it'll still leave me one leg to stand on, he thought ruefully, remembering his conversation with Fenrir all that time ago. When Kirian raised his obscenely large doughnut to Harry, he took a bite and wrapped his arm around his son. "Love you, Kiri," he said, ignoring Draco's muttered oaths that were reminiscent of their school days.

"Love you Daddy," he answered automatically, shoving the remains of his doughnut into his mouth whole, so that it was a good few minutes before he could speak again. "Baby Girl is nice too. For a girl."

Harry laughed roughly and squeezed his son gently. "Baby Girl?"

Kirian frowned as if Harry were the small child who didn't understand. "That's what you call her."

"It's tradition for the Alpha to name the baby," Harry explained. "When your Alpha thinks of one, that'll be her name. He named you."

Kirian blinked, apparently both surprised and pleased.

By the time the baby girl had gotten round to Larentia, the woman had an odd look on her face and Harry patted Kirian's head a final time before approaching her, sliding in between her and Marrok easily. Marrok clapped him on the shoulder and gave him his praise for the tiny child. The circle was full of merriment and joy again as it always was. Except for Larentia, who, though was clearly pleased to be holding the little bundle, seemed troubled.

Harry opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong but before he could, Larentia spoke, her voice soft.

"She smells like a wolf. She's going to be like me," she whispered sadly. "A barren womb where no seed will grow."

Snape, who was silent, grasped her shoulder and Harry met those dark eyes for a moment. He saw the affection there, the same look he'd seen whenever Snape had looked at a growing Kirian whom, he'd confessed quietly (when he thought Harry wouldn't hear) looked so much like Lily. It was a good sight and Harry nodded before focusing on the distressed woman between them.

"Larentia," he began but she fixed him with wide eyes.

"No, that is… I have come to terms with what cannot be and am blessed to be able to treasure our pack's children, tofind companionship in someone who is not troubled by my inabilities." She meant Snape and yet did not feel the need to look at him, as if she knew he was there. Snape would never willingly be a werewolf, Harry knew this but then, he thought perhaps that was what attracted Larentia to him – or part of it at least. She needed something outside this pack to complete her life within it.

"I do not mourn for myself. Only for her. It has taken me so long to come to terms with this and it has been a journey I would not wish on anyone."

At this point, Snape grasped Larentia's arm, the one holding the baby and met Harry's conflicted gaze meaningfully. Harry knew what it meant. He swallowed hard around the surge of revulsion in his throat. "Fenrir was able to tell what I was when he smelled my spilled blood the first time," he said and looked to his daughter, who was blinking with a frown up at Larentia the way Kirian used to. "She might not be a werewolf. She might be like me," he said. Then added quickly. "When…when I feel ready perhaps…"

But then Fenrir was at their side, kneeling before them and unwrapping his little girl with a look of purpose. Harry knew what was about to happen but before he could clench his eyes shut, he saw Fenrir's large palm pass over her chubby little foot and wondered. With eyes morbidly fixed to the tender pink flesh, he watched Fenrir poke at her heel with the point of a claw. A tiny drop of blood oozed free but the baby girl didn't so much as blink.

Numbing charm, he thought, as Fenrir pressed his thumb to the pinprick wound and healed it before more than a droplet could weep free. He drew back the smear of blood on his thumb and sniffed as Larentia re-wrapped the infant in her lap. She too sniffed and a look of such relief took her features that her usually stern eyes welled with tears. "Harry," she whispered, pulling the baby girl closer and sniffing eagerly at her hair. Harry felt a little prickle of sorrow until he realised that the tears trickling down her cheeks were ones of joy. "She truly is a gift from the heavens. A treasure just as you are."

Flushing furiously, Harry nodded jerkily, leaving Larentia to cherish this moment and distancing himself from the embarrassing praise. His cheeks were still burning as he and Fenrir resumed their seats. A large arm circled the small of his back, hand resting just next to his hip on the seat in an almost embrace. Neither of them spoke for some time, even by the time Eithne (who apparently had been visiting daily in hopes of catching a glimpse of the newborn) pulled the baby into her wrinkled but competent hands. Seeing her grandmotherly devotion there was almost as magical as the unrivalled sight of Fenrir's face when he looked on their children. It was family, all of this was and it was good. No children had ever been so loved.

He only hoped it didn't all go to their heads as they grew, but Kirian seemed well-adjusted enough, even more so over the last few months. Being a big brother had made him flourish. When eventually it all became too much and his impatient little girl started to grizzle, Harry was stopped in his movements to fetch her by the sound of Kirian leaping to his feet.

"I know, I know!" he cried and darted off, Ghost hot on his heels. Before Harry felt the need to snatch his newborn back overcome him, Kirian returned, bouncing eagerly from foot to foot in front of his grandmother.

"I don't need this anymore," Kirian said brightly and without the slightest hesitation, popped the dummy he was holding into his sister's mouth. She scowled up at him but sucked hard. Harry hoped it was clean. When the thing wasn't spat out in rejection but sucked greedily, Harry let out a little startled laugh. He'd forgotten how attached to his soother Kirian used to be, not anymore, apparently. Now he thought about it he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen it in. The little boy patted his sister's head (perhaps a little too firmly, for Eithne had to rock her a little to silence her renewed grizzling) and bounded back to Harry's side with a look of accomplishment.

"You didn't have to, Kiri," Harry said gently, "we can get her her own one if you want to keep yours a little bit longer?"

Kirian blinked at him and then the proud look on Fenrir's face and beamed, looking so much like Fenrir that it made Harry falter.

"I haven't used it for ages and she needs a gift from me too."

The arm nearly wrapped around Harry stretched to encompass Kirian as well and squeezed. "It's the best present of the lot, little man," Fenrir said proudly, "maybe tonight you can help us give her her first proper bath, mmm?"

Kirian's eyes went wide. "For really?" he gasped and then wriggled out of his parents' hold, apparently to go tell Teddy and Vilkas the very important job he had to do later.

Their baby girl had almost come full circle and was now in Draco's arms. She blinked in confusion as Astrid tried to use Draco's trousers as purchase to poke at her in confusion. She hadn't had much familiarity with other babies, after all. It was amusing to watch.

Fenrir leant in to Harry's ear. "What about Caelia?" he suggested, voice warm, rough and like a balm to Harry's frayed senses. It'd been a long day already, very testing on his fragile control but so rewarding at the same time. He tore his eyes away from the baby to look at Fenrir.

"Kay-lee-ah?" he pronounced, considering. Fenrir's hand gripped his hip now.

"Heavenly."

Harry smiled. "How do you know all these name meanings?"

"I research them in Eithne's books. Naming is a very respected part of our traditions," Fenrir said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "If you don't like it maybe-"

"No," Harry said, looking back to her again just as Draco pulled Astrid up with his free arm so the babies could meet properly. "Caelia," Harry said again. "It's pretty without being too flowery or fluffy." He wouldn't feel like an idiot for calling her it, she was the daughter of two men after all. "It goes nicely with Kirian too."

Fenrir seemed only just able to contain his joy, struggling to keep his face impassive. "I'll have to think of more names beginning with 'kuh' for the next one then so they all match," he mused. Harry elbowed him hard but didn't argue and took his newly named daughter into his arms again after a few moments more. This was good. He hadn't flipped out once (only nearly). He thought that was a great achievement. He couldn't wait to invite Ron and Hermione over and maybe in a few weeks venture out to The Burrow to introduce Caelia to the her red-headed extended family.

"Everyone, this is Caelia," he said and when everyone cried their approval, the said little girl's face twisted and she bawled loudly. More than enough excitement for one day, Harry thought, knowing this was a human feeling as well as a wolf instinct to keep his little one safe and hidden. He looked for Kirian and pushed to his feet. "Come on then, Kiri, want to help us give her a bath?"

Harry, Fenrir and the children left the circle, along with Eithne, Teddy, Remus and Tonks who would use the floo home. Larentia blinked as long, potion-stained fingers brushed against hers on the bench. She glanced down at their touching hands and then let her gaze travel the length of Severus' arm until she was fixed with dark eyes.

"I am very lucky to be able to care for so many beautiful children," she said softly and Snape's eyes crinkled gently.

"You know; I am certain that no one thought it was possible for another werewolf to be born again until Potter came along. You must never close the door on certain possibilities entirely." He glanced around the circle and squeezed her fingers tightly, this small act of affection so much from this old-fashioned gentleman. "It has been told I am the greatest Potions Master who has ever lived," he added with a raised brow.

Larentia smiled. "Perhaps. If anyone could do it, it would be you. You, Harry and Draco made a good team last time."

Snape looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, a dark cloud crossing his features as he rose from the circle slowly. His cloak whipped behind him as he headed for the caves, one of the watcher wolves trotting at his side ready to guide him back through. But as he reached the gates, Larentia grabbed his arm and whirled him to face her. She was tall but still a good few inches shorter than him and she glared up at him, fixing him to the spot, waiting for him to explain his sudden change in mood.

Severus scowled, gently extracting his arm from her. "You should know, that even if we were not…consorting, I would be happy to try to find a potion to gift you with the same ability as Potter. If it were within my power."

Larentia stared. "I'm not with you because of that," she said roughly. "I haven't been visiting you and…consorting with you because I want something from you. If it is impossible, if I am never permitted anything more than this, this is already more than enough." She glanced back at the pack gathered all the way across the Valley still and walked into the tunnels, the soft light illuminating the man's harsh features. Some wouldn't consider him handsome, but to her, no one had looked better. She cupped his jaw and stared into his eyes. "A life with you is more than I ever dared to hope for. That is enough, Severus Snape and anything else we find along the way is only fodder for the fire."

"Fire?" he repeated, voice still the same drawl but a little rough around the edges now. Her slightly lined face twisted into a smile and she leant in.

"You're the one that usually speaks in metaphors," she whispered against his lips. "This fire," she added and brought their lips together gently. Not for the first nor last time. Whatever happened next, it would be better than either of them had ever dared to hope for.

Across the circle, Draco watched the exchange and then looked up to see his mate watching him with warm, affectionate eyes. "You're wondering what brought them together, no doubt," Echo said, reading his mind.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "You make it sound like I wonder how either of them could find someone. I think they've both landed themselves quite the catch, I just wonder what they have in common. How they can make sense together"

Reaching forward and drawing a fussing Astrid into his lap, Echo smiled wistfully and stroked callous fingers through the baby fine hair. "I think they're more alike than you know. They have both dealt with a great deal of suffering and hardship in their lives. They are both world wary. There are more reasons than you realise for them to be drawn to each other."

"But Harry can't make it…safe for them like he has for you and me," he said, despairing at how young and lost he sounded. He trusted Larentia and he cared for Snape like a father but accidents happened. Teddy's recent 'awakening' was a fine example of that.

"Many werewolves found a way before Harry," Echo said softly. "Severus is an intelligent man; I am sure he has weighed up the risks." When Draco said nothing Echo wrapped a free arm round his shoulders and met his eyes. "They'll do just fine, Draco. Their happiness has been a long time coming."

"I know," Draco said. "I'm happy for them. Of course I am. I'm simply…concerned."

Echo smirked, brushing his nose against Draco's temple. "That's because, beneath your brusque, aloof demeanor, you are quite tender-hearted." He drew back a little when Draco elbowed him in the ribs.

"Don't fidget," Harry complained, "I'm having a hard enough time remembering as it is…" He stared at his task for a moment, suspended in deep concentration before pulling the loop of the dark grey tie down. "There," he said, tightening it up to the collar of Fenrir's shirt. "I haven't tied one since I was sixteen but you're looking pretty smart to me." He stood back, surveying his usually wild mate looking tidy and composed in a white dress shirt, dark grey dress robes and matching tie. Fenrir's uncomfortable, frustrated expression as he tugged at his collar belied the look a fraction.

"If Kirian can put up with it I'm sure you can," Harry mused, even as he tugged at his own shirt. His was almost exactly the same as Fenrir's, except the robes were a dark, almost black green. "I know it's a pain, but I appreciate it." He didn't really relish the night ahead either, but he knew it had to be done and he was touched that Fenrir had agreed to it, even though he knew how hard it must be for him. Harry smoothed his fingers down Fenrir's robes and smiled softly. "it's good for them to see us traversing the gap between the human and werewolf parts of us."

Fenrir said nothing but sat back on the edge of the bed, scooping up Caelia, who'd been immaculately clothed in a frilly lilac dress (by a fashion-lecturing Draco) and setting her in his lap. She blinked up at him, tiny, sleepy and displeased. Harry watched them for a moment as he finished off his own tie and glanced around to see Kirian doing his colouring in in the far corner, hair and clothes still perfectly in place.

They didn't attend fundraising balls or galas or the like very often, in fact it was very rare but as this was in aid of Hermione and Remus' department, the Department of Magical Beings and Creatures, they were making the effort. That and as he'd said, the world would be a much better place if they advertised unity and tolerance rather than segregating themselves – even if their instincts begged otherwise.

With a sigh, Harry gestured Kirian toward him and pulled him up onto his hip. He was getting heavier but he still had a while before Harry couldn't lift him anymore. "Let's go then," he said, amused that Fenrir seemed the most reluctant and petulant. "I'll go first with Kiri," he said, stepping toward his mate as the man stood. He looked up at him, smiling slightly. "See you in a second, Mr Greyback," he teased, using the name the press wielded with respectful fear. Fenrir's derisive snort sounded in his ears as he made his way to the floo.

Stepping out into the grand foyer of Minister Shacklebolt's stately home, Harry cast a wandless charm to banish the soot from him and Kirian before setting the little boy down. He watched as Kirian spun in a circle, gazing up at the chanedliers above. "Pretty," Kirian almost cooed, eyes wide.

"it is," Harry agreed. It didn't feel as cold or forbidden as Malfoy Manor although it was no less luxurious.

"Not as nice as our house though," Kirian said as he turned, peering up at the portraits that were bowing and curtseying to him politely. Before Harry could respond, the floo flared behind him and Fenrir and a wailing Caelia entered the foyer. Aware that other guests were arriving through the other two fireplaces, Harry moved over to the far side, Fenrir's large body shielding him from view as he passed Caelia over.

"She feels the same as me about the floo," Harry noted, retrieving her dummy from his pocket and popping it in her mouth. She sniffled feebly, nuzzling at his chest. He flushed, glancing around. "Errr, you reckon you can head on in without me? I'll just…find a loo to calm her down in."

Fenrir visibly tensed at the idea of stepping into a ballroom full of wizards but gave a small nod, brushing the side of Harry's throat with his fingers before grasping Kirian's hand. "Don't take too long, some wizened old witch may sweep me off my feet."

Harry laughed, ignoring the newly arriving guests and the way they stared as he and Fenrir headed out of the hall and into two different directions. The toilets were easy enough to find, pointed out by one of the waitresses who'd stopped to stare at him as he passed. It was something he'd gotten used to over the years.

"Hey now," he said softly as he sat awkwardly in on the edge of the sink, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling Caelia in close. He pulled the dummy out of her wailing mouth and waited, stiffening at the initial soreness of her latching on and then leaning back against the mirror. He felt the moment they both relaxed into the feeling, the comfort of the instinctive act. "You really are stunning," Harry said, staring down into intense blue eyes as she fed. He stroked a pudgy cheek with his finger. "You've changed everything so much since you came along, for the better."

She gurgled, milk spilling down her chin and Harry smirked, pulling the blanket Eithne had gifted to her out of his inner robe pocket and drying her chin and himself. "Don't talk with your mouth full," he admonished.

There was a knock on the door. "Anyone in there?"

Harry shifted his daughter closer and watched her detach of her own volition. Sometimes it was a comfort thing rather than a food thing – for him and her both. "Yes," he called to the person beyond the door. "One second." With his daughter now calmed, he popped the dummy back in her mouth and struggled to readjust his clothing with only one hand. Giving himself one last glance in the mirror, he shifted her higher in the crook of his arm and unlocked the door.

"Sorry," he said politely to the man standing on the other side, who stepped back, apparently surprised to see the part werewolf savior of the wizarding world standing there with a baby. He smiled awkwardly at him and stepped around him, heading for the noise of the ballroom and the smell of Fenrir before the man could say anything.

The ballroom was phenomenal, an expanse of light and music and warmth, alive with laughter and easiness. Kingsley and his wife met him at the door, greeting those in front of Harry in the queue to get in before spying him. Kingsley beamed, clapping Harry on the shoulder, welcoming him like an old friend and showing his awe at Caelia's bright rosy face before letting him walk forward into the throng of people.

The centre of the room was dominated by a large dancefloor where some people were already dancing. The far wall carried a long table of refreshments and food and the opposite seemed to be a wall made entirely of French windows opening up onto the garden, where some people had spilled out into the night. Sniffing softly, Harry shifted Caelia on his shoulder, her big eyes staring around at the new sights and sounds as he moved toward Fenrir and Kirian's scent.

A hand touched his shoulder and he turned to see Marrok, standing head and shoulders above him with his muscly, broad body wrapped in fine wizarding robes of midnight blue. His dazzling white smile lit up the room and Caelia fidgeted, always pleased to see him.

"Don't you look beautiful tonight, Princess," Marrok said seriously, taking the little girl's tiny hand and squeezing briefly before letting go, fixing dark, shining eyes on Harry. Harry had known he and Larentia had gone ahead to mingle with the wizarding community. Around Marrok, Harry could see Larentia standing with Snape, smiling brilliantly as they spoke as easy as breathing. He smiled himself and focused back on Marrok.

"You don't look too bad yourself," he said, looking around the room. "It's not so awful in here. The best moods are always at the gatherings Kingsley holds. He doesn't have time for brown-nosing crooks and the press always behave themselves." As if on cue there was a flash not too far away of a camera and Harry wondered if Fenrir and Kirian were the focus for the snapshot.

"it's a blast," Marrok said brightly, "I've been showing everyone how we dance back at the den."

"Everyone?" Harry asked, brow raised but as he asked the question, a familiar face emerged from the crowds.

"Oi, where'd you vanish to, I was just getting the hang of it," Charlie Weasley protested, seeming to take a minute to notice Harry. "Alright there, mate?" he asked, beaming when he saw Caelia, brushing a knuckle against her cheek. "And you, of course, Gorgeous." He elbowed Marrok's broad, eloquently clothed forearm. "Your omega here was showing me how to dance the wolf way. It's a bit different to dancing with dragons, I'll tell you."

Harry laughed. "You'll have to swing by one of our full moon after parties." He was quite sure he didn't miss the way Marrok's eyes practically glowed with excitement as Charlie gripped his wrist.

"That'd be brilliant. We'll make a date," Charlie agreed, casually steering Marrok back toward the dancefloor. "See you in a bit Harry." And with that, they vanished back together among the crowd. Harry scarcely had time to try to locate his mate and son, however, before he was accosted by another couple with red hair. Ginny and Ron were as smartly attired as the rest, Ginny flushed from dancing and Ron holding a glass of some fruity smelling alcoholic beverage.

"Did you see your big guy dancing with my brother?" Ron asked, a little pink-faced. "I knew Charlie was gay but…well I wasn't expecting it is all." He sipped his drink. "Nothing wrong with it, just saying."

"They look amazing together," Ginny said, swatting her brother's arm. "You're just embarrassed because you can't dance as well as either of them can." She kissed Harry's cheek and reached out for Caelia. It was easier now, a few weeks in. Easier than it had been at this sort of time with Kirian at any rate. There was still the prickle of reluctance at handing his cub over, but the sight of his family's adoring eyes on her whenever he managed it was always worth it. Ginny was a natural, holding her close and babbling at the tiny girl, who seemed to be trying to smile up at her around her dummy.

"Should've guessed really. They always seem to get along great at the birthdays and things we share," Harry said, seeing Charlie wrap his arms round Marrok's neck and laugh into his shoulder as they danced to a rhythm all of their own. It filled Harry with warmth to see. "They look like they make sense together. It's nice." Beside him, Ron nodded into his cup. It wasn't a gay thing or a werewolf thing, Harry knew, Ron was uncomfortable enough around his own emotions, much less someone else's. This discomfort around love and romance was just Ron. Harry thumped him on the shoulder lightly. "Where's 'Mione?" he asked.

Ron glugged down the rest of his drink and set it on the tray of a passing waiter, grabbing another simultaneously. "Dancing with your little man," he said, pulling Harry to the side so he could look down Ron's pointing finger through the masses, to where Kirian was being twirled and then twirling a flushed, beaming Hermione in turn. It was glorious. These gatherings were filled with the wizarding press and strangers who often stared and whispered, but in the middle of all that there was always his family and somehow they found bliss amid the unpleasantness. They always did. They always would.

Harry had found his place now, wherever he went, whatever social awkwardness he felt, he was at peace. Safe. Loved. Home.

"Is this a lingering pregnancy hormone thing?" Ron asked, dragging Harry from his reverie.

Harry blinked. "Hmm?"

"The sparkly eyed dazed thing you're doing," Ron mused, lips quirked up at the side.

"Piss off," Harry muttered without bite.

"There was a time when fundraising galas like this would've sent you running for the hills," Ginny said.

Harry shrugged. "I've grown up a bit I'd like to think," he said with a smirk, glancing at Hermione and Kirian again. He couldn't see them yet either but he knew Remus and Tonks were here as well as the other Weasleys, Luna and Neville. Draco had opted out of this one but so many of the people he considered family were here. It was hard to be afraid of the world when you were so full of love for some of the people around you.

"I'm going to find Fenrir," he said, "watch the kids for me?" His friends nodded and Harry followed his nose out of one of the sets of french doors into the immaculate, softly lit gardens. The shrubberies and rose bushes were neatly pruned, the crescent moonlight blending subtly with the magical lanterns. In the centre of the courtyard garden a large fountain with unicorns sent arching sprays of water into the pool below and there Harry found Fenrir, sprawled on one of the benches before it, shirt open, tie hanging crooked and robes mussed.

Harry smiled as he approached him.

"Should've known you'd be out here," Harry said lightly. He heard Fenrir huff and stood in front of the fountain, putting Fenrir behind him as he stared at the minute glowing fairies that chased each other across the water, as delicate and erratic as leaves on a breeze. "I think the press got a picture of us arriving, that should be good enough. Kirian's enjoying the dancing though."

"He belongs in this world," Fenrir said simply, "belongs in both. It's easy for him to flicker between the two.."

"I appreciate you making the effort, I know it's difficult," Harry said, but as he spoke, he felt warm arms around him, a hard chest at his back and a sniffing nose at the side of his head.

"It isn't as hard as it once was," Fenrir murmured softly.

Harry reached up to run his fingers down Fenrir's jaw. He closed his eyes. "Want to dance?" he asked.

Fenrir's lips twitched. "I usually have to drag you up to dance at the fire," he mused.

Harry turned in his arms to face him, already feeling large hands settle on his hips. "Do you not want to then?" Harry asked, trying for dismissiveness. The hands on his hips tightened and he smirked as Fenrir turned them both, rough and fast and easy to the music. He couldn't say it was like any formal dance Harry had ever seen and he enjoyed it all the more for it. He didn't have to worry about stumbling or elegance or making an idiot of himself. His toes barely touched the floor and the light in Fenrir's eyes was infectious. Harry grinned.

"If someone had told me when I was younger that I'd fall for a werewolf and bring the world of wolves and humans together, I think I'd have thought they were mad," Harry said, letting Fenrir spin them around the fountain as if they were gliding on air. As if the world were made for them to dance through. A few of the guests were on the patio and watching them not so subtly, but he couldn't find the time to care. Not when those blue eyes pierced him that way, glowing almost other-worldly in the moonlight.

Fenrir just smirked, having few words as always as he swung Harry effortlessly over the water and up onto the ledge of the fountain so Harry stood a little taller than him. Their eyes met and no words were needed. Harry felt freer, stronger than he could ever remember, unconcerned about the eyes on him from behind and the expectations. From the feel of it, Fenrir felt the same. A bristly smile was offered up to him and Harry brushed a thumb over his chin.

"I'll have to make the effort to come to more of these if you look at me like that," Fenrir said in his usual gruff voice. Harry laughed and, feeling reckless and giddy in that moment, stepped back, falling into the fountain with a loud splash, dragging Fenrir with him. They surfaced together to a small crowd of stunned onlookers, both of them gasping for breath and choking on laughter.

Harry gripped Kirian's hand as they walked through King's Cross, his other arm adding further support to the snoozing little girl in the carrier strapped to his chest. Her head lolled against him and he smirked down at her as he stepped to the side to let a man with his trolley step past them. As he did so, however, he noticed that it seemed quite a bit heavier than he'd anticipated, for he nearly toppled down the stairs with it, only just saving himself at the last minute.

"I'll help," Kirian said brightly, zipping forward and grasping the case handle.

"Oh, no no young man, thank you but it's quite heavy and-" The man, around sixty-ish cut off as Kirian lifted the average sized yet heavy trolley easily and zipped down the steps. The man stared down after him, then to Harry, eyes round with astonishment.

"He's a strong little man," Harry said, trying for nonchalance. He could just about see Kirian had reached the bottom of the steps and was waiting with a pleased grin. The man tipped his head in thanks to Harry before heading down after him. Once he was reunited with his case, Kirian was bounding back up the stairs and sliding his hand into Harry's.

"Perhaps you should limit your displays of great strength in front of the muggles," Amoux said with a smile from where she stood at Harry's side, Teddy and a nervous looking Vilkas between them, fingers white-knuckled around the handle of his metal trolley. It was piled with a Hogwarts' trunk and an extra rucksack. He looked quite pale but excited at the same time. Harry squeezed his shoulder.

"Come on, let's get you on the train," he said gently and steered them toward the wall between platforms nine and ten,feeling nostalgic of the drama of his first time on this platform and the panic that had seized him. It was much easier now for their small group to lean casually against the wall and stagger out into Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The scarlet engine was vibrant and beautiful as ever and Harry smiled, squeezing Kirian's hand as they moved toward it.

"You've got your money for the food trolley?" Amoux was asking as Harry, Teddy and Kirian pushed the trolley to the conductor, who was loading them onto the back of the train. He turned to see Amoux stroking her son's cheeks with a mixture of emotions on her lined face. "Remember you can use the school owls to send me a letter when you get there."

"I know," Vilkas said, blinking at her. He looked a bit less sick now, only determined, fidgety, eager. Harry smiled, knowing exactly what he was feeling. He hung back, not wanting to intrude on the moment between mother and son. Vilkas eventually hugged his mother and she stepped back, letting him say his boyish, awkward goodbyes to Kirian and Teddy. When the whistle sounded, signalling for them to finish boarding, Harry moved with Vilkas toward the door of the train.

"I know it's a bit scary," Harry said hesitantly, "but you'll love Hogwarts. So many things to explore, things to learn, new people. You love new things, right?" Vilkas had always been the most inquisitive of the pack and that had only grown with the rest of him, He'd come so far from the curious little cub who'd patted his swollen stomach and proclaimed he would be the next alpha around five years ago now.

Vilkas looked up at him. "I want to go," he said, "I do I'm just… What if people treat me differently because I'm…?" He gestured to himself obviously and Harry knew what he meant. McGonagall had made arrangements for him to return to the pack on the night of the full moon each month and besides which, everyone watching Vilkas now standing with Harry would know what he was.

"Fyerhyde is a good woman, soon to be part werewolf like me, Draco and to her if you have any trouble but Vilkas," Harry began with conviction, kneeling to stare into his eyes. He squeezed his shoulder again, hoping the message would sink in. "It isn't like that anymore. I promise you. Kids can be cruel but…no one is going to treat you any differently because you're a wolf." At that moment he looked up to see a few children staring at them and smirked. "If anything, I think the general belief is that werewolves are cool now, thanks to their part in the final battle."

Apparently cheered by this, Vilkas beamed and, blushing only a little, leaned forward to wrap his arms round Harry's shoulders. He released him quickly and hopped up onto the train.

"I'll send you a letter as soon as I get there!" Vilkas called to Kirian and Teddy, smiling from ear to ear as he vanished from sight. He reappeared a little later in one of the compartment windows and after a moment, the train started to move with great billows of crisp white steam. To Harry, they were more magical than any sparks from a wand. Breathing it all in, he joined Kirian, Teddy and Amoux to wave Vilkas off, until the train rounded the corner and was gone, carrying Vilkas off to his own great adventure.

As they made their way back through the platform and out of King's Cross, Harry smiled consolingly at a teary Amoux. "He'll do brilliant there, you'll see," he assured her.

Amoux nodded, smiling through her tears. "Oh, I know. I'm not worried. I'm simply… He's grown up so quickly, that's all." She glanced down to Kirian. "When you have to wave him off on the train you'll see. It's not a sad moment, yet it is at the same time."

Kirian tipped his head back to look up at Harry. "I get to go to Hogwarts?" he asked, sounding both eager and surprised.

Harry squeezed his hand. "If you like. You can do whatever you want. You're a wizard as well as a wolf."

Kirian looked thoughtful as they waited at the zebra crossing, little brow furrowed in the same way Fenrir's did when he was struggling for the right words. "I want to go," he said eventually. "But I want to be home too."

"You've got a good few years to decide, Kiri," Harry promised as they crossed, "You and Teddy both. Why don't we go watch a film at the cinema and get something to eat?" Two pairs of eyes widened eagerly and Amoux laughed softly.

"I'll leave you to it, I think. I'll see you back at the den." She punctuated her words with a little wave and headed off to the nearest discreet place to apparate. By the time she vanished round the corner of the busy street, Kirian and Teddy were practically bouncing with excitement.

"Can I have a Happy Meal?" Kirian squeaked.

"And watch the penguin movie?" Teddy added quickly.

The cinema and McDonalds were just a couple of the many childhood delights he'd been denied that he tried to share with Kirian as often as possible. Against his chest, Caelia's little head nuzzled deeper in sleep. Harry smirked at the sight and feel of her. She was such a calm, contented little thing, so unlike the whiny, fussy little baby Kirian had been. Stroking her head softly, Harry led Kirian and Teddy toward the McDonalds he knew was just down the street.

"Happy Meals and penguins it is," he said brightly, wondering if the next time they'd be able to convince Fenrir to come with them. He thought if Kirian asked with those big excited eyes, he wouldn't be able to say no. That and Fenrir knew how important doing 'normal' family things was to Harry. All in all, he thought he'd inadvertently managed to find himself quite a considerate partner – in spite of both of their little quirks. His smile broadened.

"You're sure about this?" Fenrir asked, their eyes locking in the mirror Harry had been staring into, the better to see as he healed the love bite Fenrir had left over his skin mere moments before. His skin was still flushed from sex but he was getting used to the pack being able to tell what they'd been up to by now. He smiled at Fenrir in the mirror as the last of the claiming bruise vanished.

"I don't want you to feel…rushed. I know Kirian can change now but he's still only just five and you haven't left Caelia with someone else before either," Fenrir continued, stepping close to press his naked chest to Harry's back, wrapping his arms round him. Harry let his hands rest on Fenrir's forearms where they crossed over him and closed his eyes, leaning back, relaxed and more certain of this than he had been of anything else in his life.

"Kirian's all excited about this now," he said after a few moments of just breathing in this man, drinking in the affection he felt emanating from the subtle bond between them. "I want him to have this. It's a tradition of your family. It can't all be about my wizarding traditions or the whole point of balance falls to pieces. I'm fine, really. This is a good thing."When he opened his eyes he saw that the look of concern still hadn't faded entirely from that face.

"And Caelia?" Fenrir prodded.

Harry tried to hide a grimace. "It'll be hard, but it won't be for too long or too far." He turned in Fenrir's arms to meet his eyes properly, to run his fingers against his stubbly chin. "Who's the neurotic worrywart here, you or me?" he teased and that at last earned him a grin.

Fenrir dipped his head to kiss him briefly, before stepping away. A quick cleaning charm was his only preliminary before vanishing round the corner into the new extension of the den that was Caelia's room. If Harry stayed very quiet, he could hear Fenrir talking in his usual gruff, husky voice to the baby girl, who babbled animatedly back. Yes, tonight would be a good night, a tradition as important to the pack as Christmas and Hogwarts and all the rest was to Harry. And if he thought about it, this was important to him, Harry too. He pulled on his loose trousers and shirt and looked up just in time to see Fenrir walk back into the room, Caelia on his hip.

"You two look good together," Harry said as he considered them, Fenrir's large hand supporting her still wobbly head as she tried to turn toward Harry's voice. She kicked her pudgy pink feet against Fenrir's belly and smiled gummily.

"Mmm," Fenrir said, trying hard not to look pleased. "She's a beautiful little thing. She must take after you," he said winningly, leading the way out into the valley where the rest of the pack had gathered.

The little man of the hour himself was hanging upside down from one of the trees, squealing with delight along with the other children as they galloped about, loud and voracious in their excitement. Ghost, Harry noted, was in amongst them, snapping playfully at their heels. When they noticed them, however, they and the adults drew in close to Fenrir and Harry, silenr as they gathered round in a large circle but practically buzzing with eagerness for the night ahead. The crescent moon was high above in the sky and the stars shone along with it, bright and warm.

"Kids, make sure you stay close in the centre. This is a treat I don't want you to spoil by being reckless. Don't stray, I mean it," Fenrir said firmly, looking at Accalia's rambunctious twins in particular. They had the good grace to blush. "Harry and I will go first with Kirian, Echo and Draco and the rest of you follow with the signal, alright?" There was no audible reply, but it didn't need one. As a unified pack they understood as one.

Harry couldn't help but smile as Kirian bounced from foot to foot beside him, tugging at Harry's sleeve. "Can we go now? Can we?" Harry glanced around. Marrok seemed to have slipped away as planned. Good.

"Alright," Harry said, taking the scrap of cloth Fenrir had been holding onto and passing it to Kirian. "Take a good whiff of what you're hunting and we can begin."

Kirian took the dark red cloth carefully, sniffing deeply. His brow furrowed, apparently recognising the scent but unable to place it. For the moment anyway. This would be the traditional 'First Hunt', a right of passage for all wolf children that happened usually after their first transformation. Kirian was bursting with eagerness to prove himself, to be a big boy and act the way his Alpha did and Harry was glad of it. This was just so right, all of it. He and Fenrir and their little family enjoyed the best aspects of wizarding life, but they enjoyed being what they were as well. Being wolves. Together.

When Kirian had gotten the scent, he followed tradition and passed the scent over to the rest of the pack, who would follow shortly. For the moment, Fenrir passed Caelia to Harry and gripped Kirian's shoulder, leading them and Echo and Draco (Astrid in arm) toward the entrance of the Valley.

The fresh, soothing greeting of the forest met them and as soon as they stepped into the trees, Kirian seemed to want to bolt toward the scent. Fenrir chuckled, turning his little bludger to face him and leaning down to his level. He drew off Kirian's shirt and trousers and met his eyes. "Do you think you can shift with me? We can do this as humans if you want." Not all of the pack had harnessed the ability to change at will without the full moon, after all and some would be running as humans.

Kirian concentrated, hard, squeezed his eyes shut. He'd managed to do it a few times accidentally since that first moon but he seemed determined now. Harry wondered if he'd been practicing with Fenrir or with Echo, wanting to impress them. "I want…want to be a wolf," Kirian insisted, but his eyes were still clenched shut and his body drawn up in tension, betraying his struggle.

Harry knelt down beside Fenrir, supporting Caelia carefully but looking now at his son. Gently, he reached out with his free hand and touched Kirian's cheek. Those big green eyes flashed open and met with his. There was a warmth there, an understanding bond that had been there since birth and only continued to grow since. Harry ached with love for him so profound he couldn't put into words.

His little bludger, who'd come along at the worst time in his life and turned everything around. He'd saved him in so many ways and still continued to now. "Love you, Kiri," he said warmly, unashamed. "C'mon. Show me." He let his thumb brush against that cheek and then his hand slid away. Kirian blinked at him. For long moments nothing happened but at least the tension didn't return to his body. Then, his little limbs shuddered and twisted and the small, almost white wolf stumbled to its feet before them.

"There's my boy," Fenrir said proudly, huskily, stepping back and regarding the cub with the excitedly wagging tail. "C'mon then, lead the way." And with that, he and Echo morphed into their wolf counterparts, while Harry stepped toward Draco, looking down at the baby girl in his arms. He swallowed. It felt so similar to that morning all those years ago. The significance wasn't lost on Draco it seemed for he shifted Astrid to his hip and reached for Caelia without hesitation, slow but sure.

"This is your forest, Harry," he said, pointing his chin at the trees ahead. "This is all yours. The Dark Lord is gone. Don't let him ruin this for you, for your children."

Harry swallowed hard. Nodded. He hadn't let it stop him this far. He wouldn't again. "Be a good girl for Draco," Harry said to his daughter, who just blinked up at him, confused as she was passed into Draco's arm.

"I'll just be over here, Potter," Draco said, before heading off in the agreed direction.

Harry's heart tightened but he could do it. It was alright, he'd see her in a moment. Once he was devoid of clothing, he let the change take his own body until Fenrir butted his muzzle against his own black one. It felt good to be on four legs again, to feel Fenrir's fur against his own. All these months without his wolf had been like having an itch he couldn't scratch. He nipped playfully at Fenrir's neck then turned his attention to his cub, who was winding eagerly between his legs, before taking a deep sniff and bolting ahead into the trees after the scent trail their 'prey' had left.

As they shot after him, Fenrir let out a calling howl, one that pierced the sky and in the distance, Harry heard their packs' answer. They were coming. The grass was firm and warm underfoot. The evening creatures of the forest scurried out of their path and the birds kept quiet in their trees, only a few bats squeaking about overhead. Harry gave a huff of laughter as their little 'hunter' bludger got distracted by trying to chase them instead of the scent, jumping up and trying to nip them out of the air and missing spectacularly.

The distraction gave their pack time to catch up. They bounded alongside them, howling and yipping in delight. The sounds of their pack meeting them seemed to be the mental tap Kirian needed, for he was back on the trail again leading them all through the trees, leaping boldly over tree roots and only stumbling a little in the stream. The chase was on and it was glorious.

If anyone could see them all charging after Kirian's lead, wolves at one with themselves, with each other, with the world around them, the moon glancing off their glossy fur, it would've stopped any surveyor in place. Kirian howled as the scent spiked thicker and stronger then, the sound carrying on the breeze over Harry's black furred ears. The pack split, three groups veering off to encircle the scent they were so close to now, ready to ambush.

They reached a small clearing and Kirian leapt with a playful snarl, flying into Marrok, who'd been 'hiding' behind a fallen tree, both of them tumbling across the grass. The pack barreled in from different sides, some howling to show their victory, some just leaping into the tussle on the ground with vigor. Harry for his part, stood back and watched Kirian panting, wagging his tail in triumph and leaping up to nip at Marrok's ear. Their 'prey' for his first hunt was caught. If Harry had possessed the ability in this body, he would've been grinning ear to ear.

Suddenly, Fenrir's long tongue flicked against his muzzle and Harry turned to see him leaping to the side, head down, backside raised with a swinging tail, ears pricked and tongue out, ready to play. Harry stared for a moment, surprised by the carefree candor. Only for a moment, however before he jumped forward with a playful grumble, slamming into his mate and sending them both rolling across the ground.

They bowled into a nearby bush, Harry on top, paws pinning his mate to the ground. Fenrir growled, licking his throat playfully and squirming beneath until he could flip Harry over onto the floor. Harry squeaked, scrambling to get to his feet but Fenrir's weight was over him, pressing down against his back so he was forced to remain on his belly. A softly nuzzling nose pressed into his neck, his head, snuffling at his ears and Harry tilted his head to the side to nip impishly at him. It wasn't often that Fenrir was relaxed enough to play – not with anyone other than Kirian, anyway.

A low grumbling sound vibrated against Harry's ears, which flicked at the attention. He growled back, rolling under Fenrir with difficulty until he was on his back and he could stretch his neck up to worry the flesh of his throat. From beyond the bush, a soft enquiring yip was heard and the two of them paused before slowly disentangling, crawling out from the greenery to see Kirian whirling around, chasing Ghost in circles. They both bounded over to Fenrir, chasing each other round him in until Fenrir jumped over the pair of them, leaving Harry to watch as the chase began anew, this time with Fenrir as the subject. It was a warming sight, the pack cubs playing as nature intended, the adults as well – human and wolf shaped. He watched them for some time, contentment spreading through him before he made his way to the pale figure that'd finally made its way into the clearing, Caelia and Astrid on either arm.

Draco was wearing a warm cloak and he took a seat near the centre of the events, back against a slender tree, settling Caelia more securely in his lap and letting Astrid crawl into the fray with an easy smile. She was making a beeline for the tawny coloured wolf currently tussling with Marrok and she screeched with delight when Echo noticed her, bending his head to let her grip his ears and pull herself up to unsteady feet. She couldn't walk yet but she gave it a good try, bounding on chubby legs as she pulled on her father's ears.

Harry plonked down beside Draco, parting his front paws and burrowing slightly until the earth was soft and had a small dip. He glanced at Draco, who understood and carefully lay a sleeping Caelia in the dip between his paws, wrapped in her blankets. She turned and nestled into the fur at his chest and Harry nosed at her pink cheeks lovingly. She felt even smaller when he wore this form, more fragile and precious, if that were possible.

The look Harry gave Draco as he raised his head was self-explanatory too. His beta cocked his head and looked to where Echo had flipped Astrid so she was now riding his furry shoulders. Draco couldn't transform yet, he hadn't quite mastered that art but it was only a matter of time. Draco gave him a small nod and made his way toward his family, greeted with a long hard lick across the face from an overexcited Echo. Harry gave a huff of amusement and settled down to watch it all, take it all in like fine wine. This was his family, his home. He'd never felt more sure of himself or them in all his life.

He could tell he wasn't the only one that felt that way. Each and every person in that clearing was radiating the kind of bliss that only came from true freedom. Even Remus was sprawled on his side, letting Teddy brush his fur with keen intrigue, as if he were a favoured pet. Teddy too, had most likely never seen Remus so calm in this form, nor so willing to be touched. It was good to see.

After the moon had travelled across the sky some ways and the cubs were finally beginning to tire and curl up beside their parents, a widely yawning Kirian tottered over, Ghost at his side. Harry lifted his chin so Kirian could lick at him in greeting and curl up between his paws next to his sister, both of them warm and safe against Harry's chest. Ghost lay along his side and Fenrir, when he'd seen that the rest of his pack were safe, calm and all accounted for, lay down along Harry's opposite side, nosing tenderly at his ears until Harry leant into him, closing his eyes.

After a while, when the sounds of sleep were all that permeated the clearing, Harry donned his human body again so that he could speak."I got a letter from Ollivander," he said quietly, his voice was sleepy, warm and content. Fenrir's fur and a quick warming spell were all that was needed to keep their small group warm in the night that had become especially chilly for the season. "You know, my marks were pretty good, weren't they?" Even Snape had been not so secretly impressed. "He accepted my request to study wandlore under him."

A soft canine huff against his dark hair was his only reply. Harry smiled, "Apparently my magical ability and skill makes me an ideal student – he hasn't taken an apprentice for decades. He's fine with me waiting a few years until Caelia is older too." He rolled onto his back, leaving the children and Ghost snuggled in the small burrow in the warm dry ground. He stared up into ice blue eyes that seemed to glow in the night.

There was another small sigh and then Fenrir's human body was hovering over his, rough fingers sliding up Harry's chest to cup his throat in that way that he did. His version of tenderness. "He would've been mad not to accept you," Fenrir said gruffly, quietly. "Don't look so surprised either. I do realise you need something outside the pack to keep you content. It was you that said it first, wasn't it?" His thumbnail scraped gently against Harry's slightly stubbly jaw. "You're part wizard too. You need things from that world as well as this one. You want a career and a life out there just as much as you want your life at home here. I can understand that."

Harry's lips quirked. "Since when are you ever so rational?" he teased lightly, biting gently as that thumb traced his lips.

"When I'm in a good mood, like tonight," Fenrir answered with a matching smirk, pressing down slightly on Harry's mouth to part it so he could lean down and claim it with a deep but slow kiss. When he drew back to consider Harry's expression, his eyes were bright with appreciation under the midnight sky. His fingers slid into Harry's wayward hair, stroking, massaging his scalp.

Seeing such love held purely for him was always an overwhelming sight, even now and Harry could only exhale shakily as he stared right back.

"I want you to have the best of both worlds – of all worlds, you and the kids," Fenrir said gruffly.

Harry reached up to trace his mate's mouth and jaw with his own fingers now, love and respect for this man and how far he'd come filling him to the brim.

"I can't promise to always be this level-headed though," Fenrir mused, "In fact I can guarantee I'll be jealous and hotheaded many more times in the future. Werewolves live long lives after all."

That drew a breath of laughter from Harry. He leaned up to kiss him again before turning into his chest and just breathing him in. Yes, he thought, he could do this forever. And then some. All of it."I wouldn't want you any other way," Harry assured him, closing his eyes again. A low, affectionate rumble of a growl from the lightly furred chest beneath his cheek was all the answer he needed.

The End