Wizards and Werewolves Don't Mix
Summary: When Fenrir Greyback spends a night with Harry Potter, the last thing he's expecting is to start a relationship with the young wizard. But when Harry turns up pregnant, what is a werewolf to do? MPREG
Disclaimer: The world and characters of Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling
Warnings: MPREG, Adult content/language, sexual situations
Taking a page out of some of my fellow fanfic writer's books, I'm basing a fanfic off a fun little-known rom-com. This particular story is based off the movie Fools Rush In starring Matthew Perry and Salma Hayek. It's a cute story that I've decided to adjust into a Fenrir/Harry fanfic as a little writing exercise. It's been a litte while since I read the books/watched the movies so there may be some oversights.
This is my very first Fenrir Greyback/Harry Potter fanfic, so please let me know what you think.
THANK YOU to everyone that has reviewed, faved, or simply just read this story. Your comments are really appreciated and I love reading them.
Now, since I was a bit late with this chapter, I decided to use the extra time to crank out the next chapter as well. So, you all get two chapters this week. YAY!
Now, on with the fic.
CHAPTER TWO - Surprises
As the sun peeks through the windows of the simple cottage he is temporarily inhabiting, Fenrir grumbles in annoyance. The village of Hogsmeade is always covered in snow, yet the bright orb still manages to be its same irritating self. Rolling over in an attempt to escape the golden rays, the werewolf groans once again. This time in frustration as the intoxicating scent of a particular young wizard teases his senses.
It has been almost two months since the night that Harry Potter graced his bed. Yet no matter how many times they are cleaned, his bedding refuses to completely let go of the boy's scent.
As frustrating as it is at certain moments, Fenrir can never quite find it within himself to complain about it. The lingering remnant of the green-eyed wizard is what sends the wolf off to sleep and the first thing that greets him when he wakes every morning. And before he knows it, the scent(the only souvenir that the werewolf has of their passionate night together) becomes comforting as well as arousing.
Walking into that muggle pub, Fenrir had the sole intention of getting a good drink before heading out to do the Ministry's dirty work. He honestly had no thoughts towards procuring any other form of entertainment. So, when "The Boy Who Lived" himself tried to sneak in line, it had been a genuine and rather pleasant surprise.
The werewolf barely recognized the young man as the teenager that had stood against and defeated Voldemort. In the years that had passed, lean muscle had defined the scrawny boy into a rather attractive man. Though the unruly dark hair had tamed a bit, large expressive green eyes still stared back through the wizard's trademark glasses. The iconic lightning bolt scar was there, although it had faded ever so slightly. It no longer was such a stark contrast from the pale skin that covered the rest of Harry's body.
And speaking of that body. . .
Fenrir has to restrain an audible growl every time he thinks of it. Then again, it was quite the surprise to learn that the Savior of the Wizarding World lost all of his rather charming shyness in the bedroom. Not that Fenrir had any problem with it, as it had been far to long since he's been with such an enthusiastic lover.
Waking up the following morning, the werewolf wasn't too surprised to find himself alone. Though it would have been nice to wake up from a night of phenomenal sex with a sleep-tousled Harry Potter curled up next to him. He might have been able to work in another round or two . . .
Shaking his head of all thoughts connected to the attractive young wizard, Fenrir begrudgingly makes his way out of his bed and into his clothes. After all, he has a job to do, and it won't get done any faster fantasizing about Harry Potter.
An hour(and a large breakfast) later, the Alpha werewolf finds himself in the depths of the Forbidden Forest. His attention focusing on his current situation in the ominous woods that lie just beyond the grounds of the rebuilt Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Flanking him are his two betas Derrick and Scarlett, and trailing behind them are the three Aurors sent by Kingsley that Fenrir didn't bother to learn the names of. The dark forest is oddly silent as the odd team makes their way through the dense foliage. Silence greets them as the group continues into its depths.
Suddenly a long howl is heard through the trees startling the wizards, the three werewolves chuckle as the Aurors look around nervously.
"Fenrir, that's Espen," informs Scarlett. The red-headed werewolf briefly scents the air before she continues. "His group is finished with their section and are headed back to regroup."
"Good, we should be able to finish the east quadrant of the forest today. It's mostly centaur territory, should be easy for the wizards to keep up."
Derrick and Scarlett chuckle at their Alpha's comment as one of the Aurors approaches them.
"Mr. Greyback, sir?" begins one of the Aurors, a young witch with straight black hair. "Would you be able to take us into the centaur settlement? Minister Shacklebolt wishes us to speak with them before we continue any further into their territory."
Looking at the girl, Fenrir scratches his chin in thought. His stare purposefully unnerves the witch before he replies.
"Permission, eh? They already know we're here, what's the use of asking permission now?"
"What do you mean?" the witch asks as a sense of dread begins to form on her soft features.
"First rule of the Forbidden Forest, you don't just go for a stroll through these woods, girl. It'll get you killed. Second, make nice with the inhabitants if you want to leave here alive. Firenze and his kind have given us the rest of the day to finish our business here. Even so, you all best finish your work before sunset. That's when the real dangers of this forest like to come out."
At the warning, the Auror returns to her comrades. The three wizards then start laying out an extensive map before using their wands and a series of spells to fill in the blank areas. Looking on as they work, the werewolves keep their senses sharp. The lycans know that the eerie silence surrounding them means that the group is being watched.
The setting sun casts a warm orange glow on the snow-covered grounds of Hogmeade. As Fenrir walks out of the wizard village, his gait is even—the werewolf in no rush to return to his once-again empty bed. His pack and the Aurors were left to their own devices at the Three Broomsticks, celebrating the fact that due to their progress, they had earned a few days off.
Cold winds whip around Fenrir's large form as his breath fogs in front of him. Upon approaching his isolated cottage, he is shocked by the scent that gently wafts towards him. There is no mistaking the intoxicating scent that continues to tease the werewolf every time he goes to sleep.
With a feral grin, he is pleased to see Harry Potter waiting for him on his doorstep. The young wizard dressed in a thick coat and iconic gold and ruby-striped scarf is gazing aimlessly into the snow-covered woods surrounding the cottage. His pale hands are shoved into his pockets to stave off the chill.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you to wear gloves in the cold? You wizards aren't built for this type of weather."
At the teasing words, Harry is startled out of his thoughts. Green eyes shift over to Fenrir nervously as the Head Auror runs his long fingers through his dark hair.
"Fenrir, I err . . . Hi."
The bespectacled wizard seems to cringe at his own lame-sounding words. Fortunately, he is not given long to dwell on it.
"This is a surprise. Didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon," starts the werewolf, his gaze trained on the younger man.
"Yeah, about that. I'm sorry I left without a word, last time. That was rude. Umm, can we talk?"
"Aren't we doing that now?"
"I mean inside. In private."
Fenrir eyes fully take in the wizard before him as he scents the air around them. A hint of slight fear reaches the werewolf's nose, making him soften his features. Without a word, the larger man walks towards Harry and he reaches past him to open the door. A whiff of arousal makes the man pause for a bit, effectively trapping the wizard between his thick arms. For a few seconds, the green-eyed auror is caged by the wolf before he turns the doorknob. A knowing grin crosses Fenrir's strong features at the light blush that grows on his guest's face.
"Sure, pup. Come on in."
At the invitation, the wizard turns and enters the home with the werewolf right behind him. Once inside, Fenrir closes the door with a soft click. The two men stand before each other, a weighted silence between them. In that time, Harry looks at Fenrir, then at his hands and then back up at the werewolf. His teeth absently worry his bottom lip, turning the tempting flesh a darker shade of pink. Fenrir shakes his head of the rather distracting thoughts the nervous habit inspires as he moves to take a seat on the nearby couch.
"So, did you come here for a social visit or are you looking for some other way to spend the evening?"
The double-meaning behind the comment seems to go unnoticed by Harry. More likely, the auror is choosing not to acknowledge it as he attempts to get his own words in order.
"Fenrir, there's something I really need you to tell you . . . Merlin, this is harder to say than I thought it would be."
Harry's eyes lock with the werewolf's unexpectedly-patient ones as he takes a deep breath. Then, without any other preamble, "The Boy Who Lived" says the one thing furthest from Fenrir Greyback's list of conversation starters.
"I'm pregnant."
Staring at the man, Harry waits for Fenrir's reaction. The man blinks slowly before he speaks.
"You're pregnant? As in, you've got a baby growin' inside of you?"
Harry nods at the question as he silently watches the werewolf process the information. The wizard takes a few, hesitant steps closer to the confused man. In any other situation, the wide-eyed expression on the alpha werewolf's face would be quite comical, but at the moment it has Harry sincerely worried.
"Fenrir? Are you alright?"
At Harry's voice, the man looks up. Fenrir's brow furrows as he studies the body before him.
"You're male, though. I would know if you weren't, had a pretty good look down there the last time. Unless somethin' chang— "
"Nothing changed down there!" Harry exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I don't get it then," trails off Fenrir as his thoughts run about in his mind. "Are you really pregnant?"
The question is not an accusatory one, in fact it is asked in an odd tone of wonder. Piercing blue eyes are glued to the auror's flat, sweater-covered abdomen as if he can actually see the growing child in Harry's body.
"Yeah, I am, apparently," begins Harry as he takes a seat on the edge of the coffee table in front of the large man. "Male pregnancies are really rare for wizards, but they can happen. Something about synchronized magical cores—Look, Hermione can explain it loads better than I can. I came here because I wanted to let you know in person that I am pregnant, it's yours, and I'm keeping this baby."
Fenrir stares at the determined expression on the young wizard's face. In the werewolf's opinion, it is far too mature of an expression for such a young pup. Pushing aside the million and one questions that have formed in his own mind, the alpha wolf reaches a large out to raise the auror's face, forcing viridian eyes to meet his.
"Do you need me to do anythin'?" Fenrir asks, his tone low.
"Oh, you don't have to do," Harry answers, the words quickly falling from his lips. "I didn't come here to ask for money or anything. I'll be just fine raising this baby on my own. I mean, I'll have my friends to help out I'm sure. Everything's going to be just fine."
At that moment, it becomes painfully obvious to the werewolf that the wizard's answers are all rehearsed. He finds himself wondering exactly how long it took for the auror to come here and have this awkward conversation.
Fenrir opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the sudden opening of his door. With the gust of cold air, the wolf instantly recognizes the scents of his two betas as they enter the quaint house.
"Ah Fenrir! Derrick and I thought that you'd like to kn-Oh! I'm so sorry," Scarlett apologizes after seeing that her alpha is not alone. "Are we interrupting?"
The female wolf's voice cuts through the weighted silence in the small cottage and seems to snap Harry out of his thoughts. Standing up from his seat on the wooden table, the wizard faces the two betas with an awkward half-smile.
"No, it's alright. I was just leaving."
With a quick look to Fenrir, Harry gathers himself and hastily makes his way out of the cottage. The alpha werewolf is still in shock for a moment before he too gets up to go after the wizard carrying his child. Ignoring the confused looks from his betas, he strides past them.
"Fenrir?"
"I'll be back, Derrick. I have some . . . family business to take care of."
Dumbfounded, both Scarlett and Derrick stare after the large man as he leaves them alone in the house to chase after the bespectacled wizard that has just left. A few moments of silence pass before the red-haired werewolf stares up at her mate.
" . . . Derrick, was I seeing things or was that Harry Potter just now?"
"That was him alright. Lightning bolt-shaped scar and everything."
"What business does he have with Fenrir? I thought we're supposed to report to Shacklebolt, not Potter."
"Scarlett, it's probably best to leave the alpha to his own business."
With that, the tall werewolf puts an arm around his curious mate as he leads her out of the alpha's home and back towards Hogsmeade. The news they had for Fenrir would obviously have to wait.
It doesn't take long for the werewolf to catch up to Harry. Then again the wizard hadn't apparated, he simply walked away from the cottage leaving a fresh trail of footprints in his wake. Though, Fenrir assumes that the wizard's current mode of travel is more out of Harry's need to sort out his current thoughts than effective transportation.
However, the wizard isn't the only one with thoughts to sort out.
So, deciding to not take any chances, Fenrir arms wrap around Harry's midsection the second he reaches him. An undignified gasp of surprise escapes the wizard's throat as he is lifted off his feet(seemingly with little effort) by the werewolf. On instinct, Harry starts to squirm to get out of the man's grasp.
"Let me go!"
"No, you aren't goin' anywhere, Potter!"
It only takes a few moments for Harry to wiggle out of the man's grip. Then again, Fenrir is trying to be as gentle as possible as the body is carrying his growing child.
Once he manages to get away, Harry focuses his magical energy towards apparition. The familiar tug originating from his navel is disturbed as the werewolf grabs onto him once again. Not wanting to splinch either of them, Harry instantly grabs onto Fenrir and brings him closer. After the surge of magic, the werewolf is shocked when he finds that the wizard has transported them both to London. Luckily for them, they seem to be in the middle of a rather-unoccupied area of a small park. Fenrir looks around their new location, the sunset glinting off a nearby pond just as Harry punches him(rather ineffectually) in the shoulder.
"Are you mad?! I could have splinched you! Hey!"
The wizard is interrupted as he is picked up once again and carried over a broad shoulder. Fenrir sits him down on a stone wall and stands in front of him. Standing between slim thighs, the werewolf uses his arms to cage Harry in, as well as keep him in place.
"Now, no more runnin', Potter. You are going to stay put until we figure out how to handle this . . . situation."
"What do you mean?"
Looking down at Harry's face, the werewolf spots the anxiety underneath the defensiveness. Fenrir runs a hand through his grey-streaked hair as he thinks of what to say. Though, it isn't an easy feat with large emerald eyes looking up at him expectantly.
"Obviously, I didn't handle things quite right back there, did I?"
"Not really," concedes Harry as his fingers play with the ends of his scarf. "I can't blame you though. You handled the news better than I did. I'm not even sure I'm allowed back into St. Mungo's at this point."
"What'd you do at St. Mungo's?"
"Let's just say that I didn't handle my diagnosis as well as I could have," the Head Auror replies, with a grimace at the memory. "Hermione even had to restrain me at one point."
Finding it hard to believe that the wizard before him would do anything requiring him to be restrained, Fenrir quirks an eyebrow.
"You were that upset that you were pregnant with my kid?"
"It's not that I'm pregnant with your kid, Fenrir. Granted, that was a surprise," admits Harry. "It's that I'm pregnant at all. Just when I think I have a chance of having a bit of normalcy to my life, I end up being the first wizard in a century to get pregnant."
"I see."
"And if that wasn't enough, I'm the Head of the Auror department, how am I going to have a baby? I'm going to have to ask Minister Shacklebolt for maternity leave just two months after I took a holiday to see my friend. There's a fun conversation to look forward to."
For a moment, there is silence between the two. A defeated look appears on the face of "The Boy Who Lived" as he sinks further into his thoughts. However the expression is replaced with surprise when a large hand gingerly settles on his abdomen.
"Harry, I don't know what to say," Fenrir begins, his voice low. "I've never been good with this sort of thing."
"Well, at least you're being honest. It's a start."
"What can I do?"
"What do you mean?" questions the wizard.
"It is half my fault that you're pregnant, isn't it? There has to be something I can do to help."
For a moment, Harry thinks. Spotting a family of muggles making their way home, a thought pops into his head.
"Well, you could meet my family. Just so they can meet the real you, not the Fenrir Greyback they've read about in the Daily Prophet."
Thinking back on his rather unsavory past that has been chronicled by the wizard newspaper over the years, an unconvinced look appears on Fenrir's face.
"What makes you think that they won't attack me on sight?"
"I'll cast a Glamour on you, just a small one. We can act like we're just mates or something. I can just make up a name for you for now and then I'll tell them your real identity later. When you're safely out of Mrs. Weasley's striking range."
"You think of this all by yourself?"
"Well, it was the only way I could think of for them to get to know the father of my baby and keep the peace."
The werewolf looks down at Harry with a fondness that surprises even him. Fenrir can tell that the young auror had thought through this tricky situation long and hard. So, with a resigning sigh, he nods his head.
"Alright."
"Alright?"
"Name the day and I'll go meet your family," explains the werewolf. "As long as it's not a night of a full moon—it don't exactly bring out the civility in me."
"Well, how about now? We're all gathering at Ron and Hermione's for dinner tonight, so it'd be a good chance as any to meet them all at once."
At the suggestion, Fenrir leans back giving the wizard a bit of space. He removes his hand from Harry(who misses the comforting touch) and holds it out to help the younger man up.
"Well then, what're we waitin' for?"
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Yeah, I'm not going to hold you up with any comment. See you at the bottom of the next chapter!
RENKA