DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K Rowling.
A/n: Some of you asked me to give you a warning about content that may be deemed 'adult'. Given the parameters and rating system of this site, this chapter contains such content - or as close as I'll ever get to writing it. It will begin at my first chapter break, 'XxXxX', and end at the following break marked the same. Enjoy, ladies and gents.
Chapter Seventeen - A Pledge and a Promise
The first wisps of morning light appeared on the horizon, brightening the sky with strokes of blush and cream. Despite the heaviness weighing down his body, and the sluggish flutter of his lashes, Harry stood on the small snow-covered terrace behind the hunting lodge. His gaze was locked hungrily on the creeping sun, watching the breeching of dawn with starved eyes. Within the cover of the surrounding trees an owl called, its mournful cry a haunting reminder of the owlery at Hogwarts and breakfast in the Great Hall. He pushed the thoughts away with a small smile, replacing them with memories of cooking for Draco and the Pack in the crumbling kitchen of the farmhouse. Behind him, hinges squeaked in protest, doors long locked giving in to the steady pressure applied from within. His smile grew at the approaching tread, knowing he would recognize it on the darkest of nights in the busiest of corridors.
After being caged within Grimmauld Place for so long, he had needed this. Needed the touch of winter on his skin and the sound of the forest in his ears. Even the wolf, as weary as it was, had risen closer to the surface, delighting in this brief sojourn outdoors. Harry dragged air into his lungs in a long breath, enjoying the sting in his nostrils and lungs. This was the life he had chosen for himself, the life he had fought for - the life he would continue to fight for.
Somewhere in the forest beyond, a wolf bayed, its soft voice turning into a wild chorus as others joined its rising symphony. Closing his eyes, Harry tipped his chin and parted his lips, releasing a howl of his own. For a moment, his voice rang clarion clear, echoing in the silence of early morning before trailing off, only to be abruptly swept upward again as a second voice joined his. It was with an unusual sense of giddiness that he strengthened the howl, his haunting cry twining and tangling with Draco's until the wolves in the distance responded en masse. Falling silent, Harry panted softly for breath, listening to the warning howls wreathing the dawn sky.
A quiet chuckle slipped from his mouth as he spun around to face Draco, knowing that the expression upon the blond's features was undoubtedly mirrored on his own. His exuberance faded, chased off by the bitter bite of winter as a shiver wracked his lightly clothed frame. He glanced over his shoulder one final time, gaze on the brightening sky, feeling freedom caress his cheeks with the first rays of the sun. When he turned his attention back to Draco, the carefree expression on his face had faded, replaced by one of tired concern.
"Where's the Pack?" He asked in a quiet murmur, the words nearly lost beneath the excited chatter of waking birds. Suppressing a small shiver, he crossed his arms over his chest, burying his fisted hands in his armpits for warmth. The expression on the blond's face wavered, the flitting emotions enough to bring a frown to Harry's brow. "The truth, Draco, if you would."
Obviously recognizing the stubborn angle of the dark-haired male's chin and the determined glint in the emerald eyes, Draco exhaled loudly. "Scattered, mostly," he admitted, giving a small shake of his head as shock registered on Harry's face. "Without Greyback, there is no Pack." It was simply stated, yet that handful of words contained a wealth of emotion.
Harry flinched at Draco's matter of fact tone. Inside his skull, the wolf reacted like it had been wounded; its savage howl rent his thoughts, causing him to wince and press a hand to his temple. The Pack was everything to the beast. It was their very heart, their entire reason for existing. Dazed and confused, Harry could only blink at the blond, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. "But what about Jaime?" He asked in a rasping whisper, suddenly fearful that Draco had every intention of leaving the little werewolf in Voldemort's clutches.
After a moment's hesitation, Draco answered in a calm drawl, though his gaze slid away from Harrys' toward the rising sun. "Steve will lead the Pack for now. When, and if, Jaime becomes old enough to assert his dominance as an Alpha, he'll either take over the Pack formed by Steve or leave and start his own. But we're talking years from now, Potter, at least fifteen to be sure." His breath frosted in the morning air, a testament to the extreme temperature.
Saying a lot could happen in fifteen years was laughable, especially considering the circumstances they currently found themselves in, and Harry understood that. He also understood everything Draco wasn't saying. Malfoy's decision to rescue him would have consequences, his subsequent abandonment of the Pack in their time of need repercussions. Nibbling his bottom lip in thought, Harry followed Draco's gaze, eyes alighting on a group of dark shadows perched high within the bare branches of an old willow. As if feeling his studious regard, the small flock of crows began to cough and cackle, their raucous cacophony destroying the peace that had settled around the lodge. Drawing a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tipped his face up to the sun. "You made me a promise once, Draco, do you remember it?"
At the sound of Harry's voice, Draco shifted his gaze, taking in the dark-haired werewolf's upturned face. "Yes, I do" he breathed quietly. His brow creased at the odd question, obviously pondering the correlation of that conversation and the one they were currently having.
Lowering his chin, Harry opened his eyes and smiled sweetly at the blond, knowing the choice he was about to make was the right one. "I'll make you one now. We'll rejoin the Pack and help find and return Jaime to his rightful place within it. If anything happens that you don't agree with, within reason, and after that time, we'll discuss our options." His smile grew as the innuendo behind the pledge flitted across Draco's face, the unspoken commitment he'd just made warming his insides.
Draco in turn, blinked almost stupidly before giving a bob of his head in silent agreement. An uncontrollable shiver wracked him seconds later, reminding him that they were standing upon the lodge's snow-covered terrace. "Come inside, Harry," he murmured, extending a slender hand in the dark-haired male's direction. Although the digits were bare, they remained unflinchingly exposed to the cold, hovering just beyond Harry's reach.
Harry studied that pale hand for a long moment, considering all the implications that accompanied its appearance. Once, it had been extended in introduction. The second time in friendship. And now . . . drawing a deep breath, Harry stepped forward and slid his hand into the blond's, grasping the cool digits firmly within his own. He raised his gaze to meet glittering silver orbs, unable to read the emotion that flickered within them, recognizing only the familiar smirk playing over Draco's features. "Yes," he returned in a whisper, not quite certain to what he was agreeing too.
With a small smile, Draco turned and led Harry back into the cabin, closing the door and bolting it carefully behind them. Knocking the snow from their boots, they trudged back to the front room where the blazing fire crackled merrily, warming the chamber and the nest of blankets that had been deposited before it. Staring at the pile of mismatched quilts, Harry felt his eyes grow heavy, the thought of sleep and the warmth of the room reminding him how very tired he truly was. He slipped his fingers free of Draco's and knelt to unlace the boots he wore, tugging them from his feet and placing them next to the fire to dry. With efficient movements, he stripped the cloak off his shoulders and unbuttoned the shirt he'd borrowed from Draco, leaving both atop a marble side table.
Yawning widely, Harry dropped down onto the blankets, smoothing and straightening them as Draco stripped off his own boots and cloak, discarding them atop the pile. With an appreciative groan, the black-haired youth sprawled atop the sapphire bedding closest to the flames, closing his eyes and smothering another yawn against the back of his hand. He listened with half an ear as Draco moved around the room before approaching stealthily, joining him amidst the knot of blankets. The gentle brush of the blond's arm against his was almost as comforting as the scent that encompassed him with Draco's presence.
Despite the early hour, the energy he'd exuded over the last several hours had left him weary. It had become apparent shortly after the wolf had slunk back into its place within his skull that he had been left extremely weak. Weak and practically defenseless, his reactions slowed to the point where he wouldn't stand a chance against a normal witch. Transforming without the moon's gentle touch came with unforseen consequences, it seemed.
With a breathy sigh, he rolled onto his side, pillowing his head on his upper arm. The change in position brought him up against Draco, the blond's elbow and hip pressed firmly into his stomach and chest. Tucked so close together, he could feel every thud of Draco's heart, the rhythmic tattoo dragging him closer to the edge of sleep. "I missed this," he breathed, grumbling a sleepy growl when the blond shifted against him. He lifted a lid when an arm slid over his hip and settled heavily across his waist before stilling, the touch more personal than he was used to. It took him a few deep inhalations to adjust to the feel of silky smooth skin against his own, the warm breaths fanning his forehead relaxing him to the point he slipped easily into sleep.
XxXxX
With a soft groan, Harry tucked his face deeper into blankets bunched around his chin, trying to shield his eyes from the brilliant light pouring through the large windows to either side of the fireplace. He lay there in that state between sleep and wakefulness, inhaling the sweet fragrance of Draco's skin, and considering the finger that was smoothing back and forth across his hip bone. That rasping stroke had goosebumps marching across his skin, the odd caress causing him to squirm uncomfortably. His eyes flew open when that cool digit dipped lower, sliding daringly below the drooping waist of the trousers he'd worn to bed. He inhaled sharply and closed his finger's around Draco's wrist, halting the blond's quest into uncharted territory. After a second of debating silently with himself, he released Draco and rolled over onto his back, tilting his head in the blond's direction. He studied the other male's face intently, reading the emotions displayed there, and pondering the depth of their intensity.
"Why did you let Greyback bite you? Why did you join the Pack?" Harry asked abruptly. He smiled at the flicker of consternation his stream of questions caused, reaching out to place a hand on the blond's shoulder, refusing to allow him to turn away.
Draco, in turn, placed his palm in the center of Harry's stomach, lowering his gaze to watch his fingers splay across the pale flesh. "Because I didn't want to become the man my father would have me be. Because I didn't want to become the man my father had become. Lucius was once a strong wizard . . . a proud wizard, now he's nothing but a weak tool." He paused there, his fingers idly circling Harry's belly button, watching in fascination as the dark-haired male shifted against his fingertips. "I wanted to be my own man. I wanted to be . . . like you."
Harry's brows lifted in surprise. "Like me?" He repeated, inhaling sharply and arching his back when Draco's fingers trailed across his lower abdomen. Unable to draw a steady breath, he once again caught the blond's hand within his own, stilling the seeking fingers with a firm squeeze.
"You never do what people expect you to do. You've never done what I expected you, too. No one controls you - or manipulates you. You might deny it, Harry, but your very presence here, with me, proves it." Draco fell silent after the making the statement, his lithe frame remaining relaxed.
The raven-haired male swallowed, his thumb absently rubbing across Draco's knuckles. "Andrej once said you and I could be as strong as Steve and him. That we could usurp their place within Greyback's Pack." Slowly, he released the blond's hand, sliding the tips of his fingers over Draco's wrist and upwards across his forearm in the beginnings of a tentative caress. His hand halted when the other male bit out a harsh laugh, the sound jerking his eyes upward to clash with shimmering silver spheres.
"Forget about Greyback's Pack. Or Steve's Pack. Or even Jaime's Pack. I'm thinking bigger, Potter, much bigger." Smiling widely, he slid his recently freed hand up Harry's stomach and over his chest, capturing the dark-haired male's chin within his fingers and pinning him in place. He eased down, never lowering his gaze, giving Harry plenty of time to turn away or rebuke him. "I'm thinking an entirely new Pack."
The wolf within Harry's skull released a primal bay, the sound spurring the dark-haired male on, urging him to take what was his - what was theirs. "Yes," Harry breathed, the hand he'd had resting on Draco's arm lifting to tangle in the blond's sleep tousled mane. The chaste kiss from the kitchen was forgotten as their lips met in a fierce nipping battle for dominance. Hands grasped and fingers massaged as their tongues met and dueled, each clinging frantically to the other. Harry slid his mouth free of Draco's and panted for breath, his heart thundering as the blond laved his throat with bold strokes of his tongue. This time, when that cool hand slid down across his abdomen and dipped below the waist of his trousers, he groaned deeply and dragged Draco's mouth back to his, sending one of his own hands questing beneath the quilts and clothing that separated them. What followed was rapture, and the birth of something beyond words.
XxXxX
It seemed like hours, but was surely only minutes later, that Harry cracked his eyes open and swallowed dryly. Draco was a comforting weight upon him, the blond's head resting alongside his own, each soft exhalation stirring the short hair behind his ear. He slid his hands up and down Draco's sweat-dampened back in an absent caress, gaze on the ceiling. "We're still helping to find Jaime," he mumbled, dragging the nails of his left hand across the blond's spine just below the waist of his dark trousers.
Draco grunted and slowly levered himself off the raven-haired male, grimacing at the sticky mess they'd become. He fumbled his wand from among the twisted blankets and performed a quick cleaning spell, glancing at the fading embers within the hearth. "I assumed your decision on that matter wouldn't have changed," the blond grumbled, beginning to rise but stilling with his weight on one knee.
Harry noted the stiffening of Draco's body and rolled over quickly, every defensive instinct coming to the fore, only to still as his gaze landed where the blond's had undoubtedly halted. Standing on the far side of the room with its face turned toward the ceiling, was a shabbily swathed house-elf. With its floppy ears and tattered pillowcase, the house-elf surely belonged to the Malfoy's estate, though its sudden appearance at the previously unoccupied hunting lodge was slightly unnerving. "Where did he come from?" Harry asked, internally wondering 'when' the house-elf had arrived.
"Why are you here?" Draco asked sharply, straightening to his full height. The glower he turned on the poor house-elf had the creature cowering and covering its head with its spindly arms.
"Because this house isn't habitable for a muggleborn, let alone a Malfoy."
The commanding voice whipped the pair around to stare in horrified silence at Narcissa Malfoy. Standing poised in the doorway on the opposite side of the massive chamber, the dark witch glanced back and forth between the pair before giving a shake of her head and spinning around on the heel of her boot. She was in the process of removing her scarlet cloak as she marched out the arching doorway, a sure sign she was intending to remain for a period of time.
"Why is your mother here?" Harry hissed, launching himself to his feet and scurrying to where he'd placed his shirt earlier. He didn't dig through the pile of clothing, merely grasped the first shirt that came within his grasp and wrestled it over his head. The glare he focused on Draco was probably uncalled for, the expression on the blond's face undoubtedly the same one he wore. He was straightening the cuffs when the elf popped into the room and tended the fire, weaning the barely glowing embers into a snapping blaze.
"I have absolutely no idea," Draco returned in a biting tone. He followed the dark-haired werewolf across the room, drawing the shirt Harry had worn earlier from beneath their cloaks and shrugging into it. His fingers were flying over the buttons as he stormed from the chamber on bare feet.
Harry stood there for a moment before trailing after the blond, finding him in the kitchen growling at Narcissa Malfoy. The witch appeared completely unfazed by the sight of a snarling werewolf baring teeth at her, continuing to remove articles from the tote she'd pulled from nowhere. She spared him a glance, her lips pursed at his appearance at Draco's elbow, her perfectly plucked eyebrows lifting just the tiniest bit, enough to betray the otherwise tranquil expression on her aristocratic face.
"Why, I'm simply visiting one of the lesser Malfoy properties. Ensuring that it's being maintained and tidied as any Malfoy residence should be. The fact that I chose to visit this particular property probably has a great deal to do with the wards being triggered." She withdrew a towering plate of dainty cakes from the bag, pushing them to side without a second glance. After pulling three platters of perfectly preserved sandwiches and two steaming tureens of soup from her satchel, the witch smoothed it flat with a delicate hand. "Of course, the fact that the Daily Prophet has been writing stories about my disowned son having stolen Harry Potter from Hogwarts and holding him hostage may have also had something to do with my decision."
"We're perfectly fine. And I did not steal him," Draco snapped. His snooty response was met by a baleful glower that had him huffing indignantly and snatching one of the sandwiches from the counter. taking a mutinous bite of it.
"I went with him willingly," Harry thought to add helpfully. He took a slinking step forward, eyes sliding between Narcissa, Draco, and the plate of bread and ham. His soft interruption dragged identical silver orbs in his direction, the glares he earned causing him to retreat a half step and drop his gaze uncertainly.
"Eat, Mister Potter," Narcissa hissed, pushing the oval platter closer to the two boys. With a frown on her pale face, she eyed the raven-haired werewolf, her fingers tapping lightly atop the granite of the counter. "My concern isn't what the papers are reporting, Draco. It's that the Dark Lord keeps asking Lucius and I when you're going to bring the Potter boy to him."
Harry's head jerked up from his contemplation of the platter of sandwiches. "Do you know where Voldemort is?" He questioned, attempting to disguise his eagerness as mild disinterest. The sandwich he'd just picked up almost flew from his fingers when Draco whirled around and growled at him, the sound wringing a snarl from his own throat. Inside his skull the wolf sneered, flattening ears and baring glistening teeth at the aggressive gesture from the other male. The pair continued to posture, ignoring the witch completely.
"No," Draco finally burst out. "Absolutely not, Harry. We're not simply going to waltz into Voldemort's headquarters and hope Jaime is there."
"Not alone," Harry allowed. "With the Pack. Steve's Pack."
"I'll be on my way, then," Narcissa murmured, attempting to wipe the amused smirk off her face, and failing miserably. With another telling glance between the duo, she lifted her cloak to her shoulders and hooked the golden clasp. "I do hope you come to an intelligent agreement, boys." She lifted the cloak's cowl to her head and floated from the kitchen, the slamming of the front door heralding her departure from the property.
"It's not happening!" Draco barked, neither acknowledging his mother's leave taking or the house-elf popping in and out of the kitchen. With another growl, he stepped into Harry threateningly.
"Yes," Harry said forcefully, "It is." He held his ground, ignoring the brush of Draco's chest against his own, taking a calming breath and shushing the wolf to silence. That deep breath allowed him to place a palm on the blond's sternum, the gentle touch seeming to snap Draco from his angry tantrum. He gave the other male's heaving chest a light pat and retreated around the counter, turning his attention hungrily to the sandwich he still clutched.
"When you're finished here, we'll go and speak with Steve and Andrej." Draco shot a lingering look at Harry before padding from the room on silent feet.
Feeling somewhat victorious, and yet surprised at the same time, Harry allowed his gaze to follow the blond down the hallway while taking a bite of the sandwich. He nearly groaned in delight at the taste, swiping mayonnaise from his upper lip with his tongue before taking another bite. He contemplated the incident that had just occurred while he chewed, slightly intrigued by Draco's reaction. He hadn't expected the explosion his comment had garnered. Visiting with Steve and Andrej was merely common sense; and they owed it to the Pack to help them bring Jaime home. Perhaps his eagerness to see the duo had been off-putting, especially considering the recent turn of events. The decision to form their own pack was still fresh, the path they were on now was unknown to the both of them.
With a sigh, he wiped his palms down his trousers and wandered off in search of Draco. The blond was finally located in a small library on the second floor. A fire blazed in the hearth and the tables glistened with a recently applied layer of wax. Shelves of books and unidentifiable objects lined the walls, causing Harry's gaze to dart about the room in wide-eyed appreciation. He wandered a winding path to where Draco sat in an uncomfortable chair before the fire, conscious of the narrowed silver orbs following him. When he reached the blond's side, he slid carefully into his lap, ignoring the disgruntled sniff he received in reaction. Gathering his courage, he placed a hand on the side of Draco's face and forced him to meet his gaze, smiling at the hint of wariness he found. "I meant everything I said earlier, Draco. But I have to help Jaime. I've been where he is . . . and I know how he must be feeling. I can't just let Voldemort have him," Harry whispered. He hesitated, trying to read the emotions flashing across the blond's face but giving up with a sigh. He was about clamber to his feet when hands latched onto his waist, holding him in place.
"Thank you, Harry." Draco said in a quiet voice. He tugged the other wizard closer, sliding his arms around him completely and brushing a kiss across his forehead. The smile that crossed his face was heady with relief, and he allowed himself to relax back in the chair, holding Harry loosely against his chest. For several minutes they stayed like that, Harry carding his fingers through Draco's hair and Draco rubbing Harry's back, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
"Fetch our cloaks and our boots and we'll go," Draco said finally, slipping his arms from around Harry. They both rose and separated briefly, meeting back up in the foyer to don their winter apparel. It was late in the afternoon, the sun beginning a slow slinking yield to the moon when they stepped beyond the doors of the hunting lodge. Months of living with the Pack had both males scanning the surrounding forest and sniffing delicately, searching for danger among the trees and low lying brush. Finding nothing worrisome, they locked hands and Draco apparated them to the cottage at Plover's Cove.
XxXxX
The little stone cottage was almost picturesque, set against the pale sky and surrounded by long grass dried an old gold; an image from a painting or a muggle magazine his Aunt Petunia might have once perused. It was viscerally breathtaking, sitting so close to the edge of the cliff as it was. Releasing Draco's hand slowly, Harry gaped at the churning midnight waters, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below filling his ears. He spared the blond a quick glance, noting the amused smirk on the other male's face as he waded across the stiff grass to peer in wonderment at the ocean. And it was the exact opposite of the old farmhouse at the Glen.
He turned at the rasp of a door opening, his eyes widening at Andrej's appearance in the shadowed portal. Grinning widely, he closed the distance between them, sliding an arm around the blond's shoulder in a tight hug of greeting. "It's so good to see you," he mumbled. He frowned when the blond pushed him quickly away, surprised at the suspicious look on Andrej's face. His attention darted over the blond's shoulder to a shifting deep within the room, his muscles tightening as Steve rose slowly from his place before the fire. "Hello."
"Harry," Steve returned in a rough voice. His gaze went beyond the dark-haired male, obviously searching for Draco, before returning to Harry and narrowing to angry slits. His lips curled upward, flashing teeth in a very visible warning.
The look on the tall blond's blue face was enough to raise Harry's hackles and drag a soft growl from his throat. The aggression and animosity radiating off Steve set the wolf on edge, had it whispering words of caution and warning through his head. Attempting to ignore the urge to bare his teeth in return, Harry sent his eyes darting about the small room, persuading the shadow in the back of his head to mind its manners. "We're here to help fetch Jaime home," he announced cheerfully.
"Is that so?" Steve queried, his attention shifting from the empty doorway to the dark-haired male. His gaze slid from the toes of Harry's boots to the mussed mess of his hair, the expression on his face softening slightly. "You seem none the worse for wear."
Harry attempted a bright smile, trying to understand what was happening. This wasn't at all the reception he'd expected to receive. In fact, he'd been expecting hugs and proud exclamations concerning his return to freedom - not this. Whatever this was. Draco's arrival behind him brought a few things to light, though, mainly the reason for the suddenly hostile glint Steve's eyes had acquired. "Despite being held in a silver cage by Remus and Dumbledore for the past few days, I'm feeling great." He attempted to keep his tone chipper while peering innocently up at the blond. Several things were beginning to make sense.
"Draco, welcome back." Steve said, the words sounding like a threat despite the amount of candor they were spoken with. The smile he pinned on the younger male was nothing less than a baring of teeth.
For a moment, Harry shifted uneasily on the balls of his feet, the urge to place himself between the two males unnecessarily strong. But this wasn't his fight, and despite the wolf's rising temper, he once again set himself to scanning the interior of the cottage and ignoring the soft grumbles that the duo were passing off as polite conversation. "Is there any news on Jaime?"
It was Andrej who answered with a brief wag of his head, his expression waning from excited to slightly depressed. "Voldemort has him, but we don't know where." The announcement halted the posturing going on behind the pair, silencing the quiet growls. With a flutter of his hand, Andrej ushered Harry and Draco into the cottage, indicating they should remove their cloaks while he wandered into the small kitchen and filled the kettle. "We've been trying to locate the Dark Lord, but he's moved from his last known location."
Unbuckling the clasp of his cloak, Harry draped the garment over the back of a settee done in pastel pink and green. He forced his emerald orbs to remain on Andrej, biting his lip to keep from volunteering his and Draco's services to locate Voldemort without revisiting the conversation from earlier. "What about the rest of the Pack? Have they had any luck?" Even to his ears, the questions rang with desperation.
"No," Steve snapped, sounding as frustrated as he looked. "And I've had them out looking day and night. And Voldemort has been unusually quiet, which isn't helping at all." The tall blond returned to the faded wing back chair with a rip in the fabric of the worn seat, collapsing into it with a weary sigh. He dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed his face furiously, snarling softly into his palms.
"Perhaps I could help," Draco muttered almost grudgingly. He ignored the hopeful look on Harry's face, silver eyes locked on the tall blond seated across the room. "I have . . . sources I'm sure you don't have access to." His agile fingers slid the emerald button of his finest winter cloak free, laying the garment atop Harry's with more care than necessary.
Steve eyed the duo closely, weighing the gravity of the blond's offer. "Do that then, Malfoy," he finally muttered in a curt voice. With that pronouncement, some of the tension seeped from the room, leaving the quartet sitting and standing in companionable silence until the kettle began to whistle shrilly.
As Andrej busily poured boiling water into a chipped teapot of dark blue, Harry and Draco arranged themselves comfortably on the settee, stretching hands to the crackling fire blazing in the hearth. "What exactly is this place?" The raven-haired male questioned, indicating the room in general with an all encompassing flip of his hand.
"'Plover's Cove'?" Andrej asked, lifting his eyes from the tea tray he was preparing to glance in Harry's direction. He smiled slightly, the expression pulling the jagged line across his face tight, turning what should have been a friendly gesture into an almost menacing leer. "It used to belong to an elderly pair of witches. Sisters, I believe they were." The slight blond continued to arrange teacups and saucers on a tray, sparing the trio not a glance.
Harry waited patiently for Andrej to continue, opening his mouth to further question him when the blond remained silent. A biting pain in the back of his hand caused him to jump, his mouth snapping shut at the lifted brow and head shake Draco directed at him. "Er, it's quite . . . homey," he finished lamely, accepting a teacup decorated with yellow roses off the tray.
"It was meant to be a safe house. A place for only Steve and I when trouble dogged our heels," Andrej explained. He handed the aforementioned blond a cup and then perched himself awkwardly on the arm of the chair Steve occupied, his attention turning to the younger werewolves sitting across from them. "There's room here, should you like to stay," he finally murmured.
With a clatter of porcelain on porcelain, Draco placed his saucer and cup on a nearby table. "I have a place. We have a place," he said, his tone clearly brooking that there would be no discussion on the topic. The baldly stated 'we' caused the blond duo's brows to arch in a combination of query and amusement, while Harry's face flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet. Sniffing in almost blatant disgust, Draco lifted a hand in an elegantly dismissive wave, shooing down any lurid comments the pair might make. "We should go now . . . if you want me to speak with my sources tonight." He rose fluidly, taking Harry with him. He attempted to appear patient as Harry went through the niceties of leave-taking, though he placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder when he moved to hug Andrej.
When the door of the cottage closed on their heels and they were walking across the small meadow, Harry glanced up at Draco, brow scrunched in confusion. "What the hell was that?" He muttered, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the little house.
Draco smiled at Harry's obliviousness, reaching out and capturing the hand the raven-haired werewolf was lowering. "Wolves are extremely territorial, Potter. You and I just wandered into Steve's territory, two young mated wolves in their prime . . . he was worried one of us was going to challenge him." He and Harry exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter at the thought of challenging Steve for leadership of Greyback's Pack. Perhaps the thought was ludicrous, but not quite as ludicrous as some might view their decision to form a Pack of their own. Still chuckling softly, the duo apparated back to the land they'd claimed as their own.
A/n: Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review, as always.