Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter Four
When Harry fainted, Mika and the then unknown wolf were the only ones left awake.
It made itself comfortable, curling around Harry's unconscious body protectively, while she sat down by the fire. She pulled her knees to her chest, and stared at the wolf.
She had only heard of werewolves taking humans as their mates. She didn't know if it was common or uncommon, but this was the first time she was seeing it in person. The hunter in her told her this was fascinating, something to remember for future jobs, while the woman in her couldn't help but say aww.
As the prince slept, Mika counted down the hours left until dawn. While she did so, the wolf paid her no mind. It was fully content doting over the slumbering prince, nuzzling the young man's head and licking his cheek once in a while.
The few hours remaining passed by in a flash since Mika had dozed off a little. When she woke up, she was not surprised to find a large, muscular man naked, and practically wrapped around the prince. (But she had to admit that the view was quite nice.)
They spoke quietly to one another, with Mika initiating the conversation. She, of course, started with an introduction, since it was quite clear that the wolf was suspicious of her. She wanted to establish that she was not a threat to either him or his mate.
After that, he grunted out his name and after a few slightly prying questions, told Mika how he ended up with them of all places.
She relaxed considerably once she got the confirmation that he was, in fact, Harry's mate.
Werewolves, by nature, were very strong. They were a total bitch to kill, and Fenrir in particular looked quite powerful. Having the wolf around would make her job infinitely easier. (Really, it wasn't as if Fenrir was going to leave, anyway.)
So, it looked like Fenrir would be staying with them (mostly Harry) for quite a while.
As Fenrir settled in to get some sleep, Mika smiled, and decided that rather than telling her charge, she would let him figure it out for himself.
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Harry had never been attracted to girls.
This was something he never shared with his parents or his friends. It wasn't even something he had fully come to terms with.
After all, when you're practically the most desirable bachelor in an entire kingdom, the one person all the women want, it's hard to admit that you prefer men.
That's why it was so bittersweet when he woke up the next morning, wrapped tightly in the arms of one very muscular, very hairy, and very naked man.
The first thing Harry did was struggle as hard as he could. Five minutes later, the arms around him were tighter, and he was a little tired.
He grunted as he finally gave up, and slumped against the hard chest pressed up against his back.
He was about to start struggling again when he heard someone laughing quietly to his side.
He turned his head, and saw Mika standing there. She had a hand over her mouth, which just barely stifled her laughter.
"You look like you're enjoying yourself," she said after finally composing herself. She took a seat on the other side of the fire pit.
Harry decided to ignore her little comment. "Are you going to help me out or not?" He asked, glaring at the blonde. "Isn't that what you're here for, anyway—to protect me?"
She waved a nonchalant hand, and proceeded to look through her satchel. "You're perfectly safe where you are," she assured him, although it wasn't very reassuring, "so feel free to yank that royal stick out of your ass and relax."
He sputtered, blushing indignantly as he tried to find the words to retort. "You—you—! You're the worst!"
She shrugged. "Thank you, I do try…" She grinned, and added, "Besides, even if I did want to help you 'escape'—and I don't—I'd be an idiot to try and separate a werewolf from its mate."
"Mate? What are you talking about?" Although he tried desperately to contain his panic, he couldn't help but freak out just a little bit. "You—you don't mean what I think you mean, do you?"
"That depends on what you think I mean," she was enjoying this far too much.
"I'm…I'm…"
"Stuck with me." A gruff, deep voice cut in right then.
Harry jumped a little, and immediately looked up at the wolf wrapped around him. He would never, ever admit it out loud, but he felt his heart skip a beat when he took in the face above his.
The wolf, although he could use a good bath, was ruggedly handsome.
He had cold, steel-blue eyes that felt as if in one glance, he would be able to figure out every single one of Harry's darkest secrets. His earth-brown hair was let down, hanging loosely just below the nape of his neck. His jaw was strong, square, and complete with a thick, slightly bushy goatee.
This man—wolf, whatever—was nothing like the noblemen Harry had encountered. They were all tall, and lithe, and polished in every sense of the word. While the owner of the arms around him was the complete opposite
"Good morning, Fenrir,"
Harry was pulled forcibly from his thoughts by Mika's singsong tone.
The only response she received was a grunt, followed by a yawn.
Narrowed, green eyes shifted (just a bit reluctantly) away from 'Fenrir,' and focused on his so-called guardian.
"How do you know his name?" He demanded, "Is he a friend of yours? Are you playing some twisted little joke on me?"
"A few hours after you fainted—"
"I did not—!"
"—Fenrir here turned back into a human. Then, we got to talking, and he told me everything. Naturally, we learned each other's names." Mika explained as she responded to Harry's glare with a highly amused smirk. "Oh, don't worry, I told him your name, too."
Oh, Harry wasn't worried about that. What he was now thinking was that 1) Mika was the worst bodyguard ever, and 2) when Fenrir finally lets go of him, he was going to throttle her.
Fenrir said nothing, but the grin spreading over his lips said it all. So his Harry was a fiery one, was he? This was going to be fun.
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"Can you put me down now?" Harry grumbled.
"No," Fenrir answered. "I'm pretty comfortable right now."
"I'm not," the prince shot back, "so please, if you could just—"
"Harry, things would go by a lot quicker if you would accept it already. You two are soul mates. Meant for each other, and all that." Mika called back from her spot ahead of them. She was riding on top of her usual, dark brown mount, while Harry's horse was followed behind her.
"Shut up!" Harry yelled, blushing furiously, "I don't want to talk to you!"
Mika laughed, but left him alone anyway. The prince looked up, and felt the urge to punch the man at the sight of that infuriatingly smug smirk. Fenrir met his eyes, and grinned, showing off sharp teeth. Teeth that could kill him easily—or at least maim him.
Harry looked away, and missed the disappointed frown on the wolf's face.
Hours earlier, after Fenrir had let him go, Harry finally managed to get some straight answers out of Mika.
Yes, the man was in fact a werewolf. No, he wasn't going to kill him. Lastly, yes, they were bound forever as mates because of fate…or something like that.
It was after the words 'soul mates' left Mika's lips that Harry had passed out once again.
When he woke up, it was a little after noon, and he was moving, but he wasn't walking. His horse was with the blonde ahead of them.
He looked down, and he saw arms around him, the same ones from that morning, carrying him.
Oh, this whole situation just smelled of Mika. When (if, a darker corner of his mind supplied) he got back to the palace, he was definitely telling his father everything. He was going to make sure she got half the hell she was giving him.
"Aren't your arms tired?" Harry asked after about half an hour, "You can put me down, you know. Believe it or not, my legs are for walking, too, not just for looking pretty."
"Oh, really?" Fenrir said, sparing his mate a quick glance and a little smile, "I wasn't aware of that. But they do look pretty, now that you mention it."
Harry blushed, and looked away. Unconsciously, his hands moved onto his knees, and tried to cover his legs, but couldn't. The wolf noticed this, and didn't even bother to stifle his laugh.
"Stop laughing at me," the prince muttered, his eyes averted, "it's annoying."
Fenrir didn't stop. In fact, he laughed harder. Harry slapped at the wolf's chest, but it was like slapping a wall. Blue-gray eyes looked fondly down at the sulking prince.
What a silly human his mate was.
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"Well, here we are," Mika climbed off her horse, and started walking down the cobblestone streets. Harry woke up at the sound of Fenrir's voice, well, waking him up.
He didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep. In Fenrir's arms no less. "Oh, God…" He muttered, just barely stopping himself from slapping his own forehead.
Fenrir arched a questioning brow. "Is everything alright?" He asked; he couldn't help being concerned.
"It's nothing, nothing at all," Harry said quickly, "can you let me down now, please?" He flushed even darker, "people…people are looking…" He squirmed uncomfortably, and pushed down on the arms that definitely weren't budging.
Fenrir wasn't planning on letting go. However, after a while, he set the human down on his feet. It would just cause unwanted attention if he was carrying around someone who was fighting tooth and nail to get away.
When Harry was finally put down, he had to admit that he missed the feeling of walking on his own feet. Although he couldn't help but feel a little…colder now. He brushed that particular feeling away, and walked quickly, trying to catch up to Mika.
As he walked, he looked all around him. This town was much bigger than Piddlebrook. The buildings were small, but there were more of them—and there were actual streets. That was an improvement.
When they passed right by the inn (the building was much larger than anything he'd seen in Piddlebrook), Harry was a little confused.
That was, until he remembered that they weren't going to stay at an inn, not here. Mika had mentioned something about his father's close friend offering them a place to stay.
It was then that Mika stopped abruptly. Harry skidded in his tracks, and nearly bumped into one of the horses. He stumbled back, but fortunately he was caught before he could fall onto his rear.
Unfortunately, it was Fenrir who caught him.
The wolf gave him one of those annoying grins of his, and Harry pulled away from him before anything else could happen.
"What the hell?" He grumbled as he walked up to the blonde, "what're we stopping here for?"
Mika nodded to the building in front of them, "this is where your father's friend lives."
Harry looked up. It was a quaint, two-story building. Right by the second-floor window hung a sign decorated with painted pictures of bottles and a bubbling cauldron.
"A potions shop…?" Harry said slowly. A part of him remembered this place… but he couldn't place it.
"Yep," Mika dug through her satchel and retrieved a small slip of parchment. "It says here, it's run by a potions master by the name of—"
"Can I help you?" A soft, polite voice spoke up from behind them.
Harry turned, and saw a young woman—about his age standing there. She was about an inch shorter than he was (which was rare), with a head of bushy, brown hair. Her dark eyes were sparkling with intelligence, and her posture was straight. She wore a thick, brown cloak over a humble, blue dress.
In her arms, she carried some books and a bag filled with what looked to be empty bottles.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, you can," Mika cut in, pushing Harry behind her before he could get a word in, "we were invited to stay here for a couple of days," she explained, "can we come in?"
The brunette looked at them for a while (her gaze lingered the longest on Fenrir) before she responded. "Oh! I remember now. Come in, come in." She fished the shop keys out of her bag, and quickly unlocked the door.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," she said as she rushed in, and headed straight for another room. "I'll be with you in a moment!"
The place looked larger on the inside than it did from the outside. The parlor was tidy, and a little empty, actually. Bookshelves seemed to line the wall of nearly every room, and other than the small couch and a table, nothing was inside the parlor.
When Fenrir stepped in, the floors creaked a little beneath him, and for a moment, Harry was a little nervous that the wolf would fall straight through it.
The brunette came back in the room five minutes later with tea and some pastries balanced on a tray. She pulled in some more chairs from the dining room, and put them on the opposite side of the table.
As she set the tray down on the table, she started pouring tea in each of the cups. "Well, I'm Hermione Granger," she said, pushing a tea cup to Harry, then one to Fenrir, who just stared at it, but made no move to touch it. "What brings you to Cattenberry?"
"Um…I'm Harry," he said, not too sure whether it was alright or not if he gave her his real name, "and this one's Fenrir. The blonde that was here," Harry looked around and saw that she was, indeed, gone, "her name's Mika. We're just trying…to take a little vacation, I suppose."
Hermione stared at him, and it was clear she wasn't fully convinced.
"I took the horses out back," Mika said as she walked in, dusting her hands off, "did I miss anything?"
"Nothing," Hermione said, she met Mika at the door with a smile, and shut it behind her. "I'm Hermione, by the way," she led the blonde over to a seat, and passed her some tea. "I was just asking these two how you ended up here, of all places." She shrugged, "not many people want to come here. Not much to see, or do."
"Well, peace and quiet's just what we're looking for," Mika said, "we needed to take a break or something like that." Although her tone was casual, her posture stated that she was unwilling to talk more about the subject.
Hermione, as well as everyone else in the room, picked up on this and dropped it.
"Ah, I see," she said, "Well… peace and quiet's just what you'll get here. My employer isn't the talkative type."
Fenrir, who'd been fidgeting since he sat on the couch, abruptly got up, and walked out of the building. He wasn't the sitting type, and he needed some fresh air. The three left behind stared after him curiously, but said nothing until the door closed.
"What's with him?" Hermione asked, "Did I say anything to offend him?"
"No," Harry assured her, "he's just not the indoorsy type."
She nodded in understanding.
"Is he here?" Mika suddenly asked, "Your employer, I mean."
"I think he went out this morning," Hermione said, "something about a supply run… He should be back around this time, though." She glanced at the door.
"What's he like?" Harry asked curiously, "Is he nice?"
Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes. "That isn't the word I'd use, but you never know," she shrugged, and got up. "You could always ask him yourself. I think that's him at the door."
From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed a dark silhouette pass by the window. The doorknob turned, and the door pushed open slowly.
He paled as he saw the tall, literally dark figure standing in the doorway. Now, he remembered.
Severus Snape.
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End of Chapter 4.
A/N: Hey, guys! I had fun writing this chapter... At first, I was going to have Harry & the gang stay with the Weasleys...but I love Snape. I just had to work him into this story somehow, because originally, he wasn't going to be in it. ^^;
Please leave a review, and thank you very much for reading!