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(especially in this chapter)
Taking a page out of some of my fellow fanfic writer's books, I've decided to base 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 adjusted 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.
Okay, here's Chapter Seven, I won't hold you up with my comments ^_^
ENJOY!
CHAPTER SEVEN - Best of Both Worlds
Steady rain falls down through the dense trees of the Forbidden Forest as Fenrir and his group make their way along. The ground is slick with mud and fallen debris, making their progress slow and awkward. After an hour of this slow trudge, the werewolves and aurors unanimously agree to explore the complex(but mostly dry) system of caves that travel through the dark woods.
Fenrir and Derrick lead the way into the underground caverns, their eyes easily adjusting to the darkness, as they keep themselves sharp for any unfriendly inhabitants. The only illumination is the light provided by the wands of Abigail and her fellow aurors as Scarlett brings up the rear.
"So, how did things go with Harry last night?" asks Derrick, low enough that only his alpha can hear the question. "From the way things were going, I can assume you two had a bit of a discussion."
"Derrick, not now," Fenrir growls out. The large man crouching a bit to navigate the low ceiling of the cave. "I ain't in the mood."
"That bad, huh?"
A grumble leaves the alpha's lips as the group makes their way into an open area of the cave. The narrow passageway has opened up to a large area allowing them all to fan out. From smell alone, the werewolves can tell that the area housed a small pack of their brethren not too long ago. However, the wizards make the same deduction from clumps of shed fur and deep gouges in the rock walls that could only be made from razor sharp claws. There is a collective shiver from the aurors at the random pilings of bones that have been completely stripped of their flesh.
"We'll rest here for a few minutes before continuing further," Fenrir barks out, as he surveys the area with narrowed eyes. Behind him, the aurors start to set up their cartography tools. "Scarlett and Derrick keep an eye on things here, I'm going to check with Espen's group. Hopefully, he and Mason aren't killing each other."
"Wait, Fenrir, I'll join you."
Raising an eyebrow at Scarlett's words, Fenrir looks at her appraisingly. The woman's face suggests that she is eager to discuss something with him.
"Makes no difference to me," replies the alpha wolf as he turns, heading to the section with the rest of their group.
The two werewolves make their way along another dark passageway, the uneven ground slopes at odd intervals and slows their progress. For a while, there is silence as the two lycanthropes travel. The steady rhythm of the rain is heard echoing through the empty and winding passageways of the immense cave.
"So, judging from your "pissed-off/I-didn't-get-any" face," begins the redhead knowingly, "I'm assuming that you and Harry had a fight?"
"What my mate and I do is our business, Scarlett."
"Or not do, you mean."
Realizing that the woman beside him is not going to let up, Fenrir takes a deep breath.
"I wasn't even allowed to sleep in my own fuckin' bed," grumbles out the alpha as he takes a moment to stretch out his back. His muscles still sore from sleeping on the couch that Harry banished him to. "The pup even had the balls to slam a door in my face."
Six months ago, the notorious werewolf would have outright laughed at the idea of being banned from his own sleeping quarters, by a wizard no less. But since mating Harry Potter, nothing has been quite the same for Fenrir Greyback.
"Let me guess, you two were arguing over how to raise the baby, right?"
Not really expecting an answer to her question, Scarlett isn't surprised when all she hears is an acknowledging grumble from the large man ahead of her. The woman continues on, knowing that Fenrir is still listening.
"And then, you said something about wizards as a whole and ended up insulting Harry with your blunt honesty. He got mad, and then you got mad, and now the two of you aren't even talking to each other."
A moment passes before Fenrir completely stops in his tracks.
"Am I close?" goads Scarlett, the redhead waiting for Fenrir to confirm the statement.
The alpha werewolf closes his eyes just as a resigning sigh escapes his lips.
"Pretty much."
Surprised by the hint of slight guilt in the deep baritone of her alpha's voice, Scarlett loses her teasing tone. The man that she has served under for so long has never been one to show any type of remorse before, especially concerning his actions towards other people. Her large eyes gain a warmth to them as she approaches Fenrir.
"Well, I hate to say it Fenrir, but what did you expect? You're mated to a wizard not a werewolf. Did you really think he was going to side with you on that argument?"
Grumbling to himself, the werewolf returns his attention to the system of caves that they are exploring. Thick muscles are tight with Fenrir's restrained anger as he continues walking, mostly because he knows that the redhead following him is completely right in her assessment.
"Look, do you care about Harry?"
"Of course I fuckin' care! I mated him, didn't I?" snaps Fenrir.
"Well then, you have to accept the fact that Harry isn't a werewolf," Scarlett states honestly, folding her arms over her chest. "He's a wizard that grew up as a muggle, and neither group have ever been pro-werewolf. And honestly, if it weren't for Lupin's influence, Harry probably wouldn't have given you a chance in the first place. You can't expect him to understand everything that werewolves have been through."
"I know that."
"That's good then. So, when you're done here, go find Harry and make up with him. Until then, get your head back in the game. We need our alpha to focus right now, not occupied with his mate."
"I am focused."
"Really?" asks the female werewolf, raising her eyebrow. "Then I'm sure you've already noticed that this area of these caverns is starting to smell an awful lot like fresh forest troll, right?"
"Fuck," growls out Fenrir as he takes his own appraising sniff of the dank air around him. His own nose simply confirms what Scarlett has already stated. "You head back and help Derrick keep an eye on the wizards. The last thing we need is an angry forest troll finding us sniffing around its new home."
LATER THAT DAY
The halls of Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries are full of Mediwizards hurrying off to their respective wards to heal their patients. Since the fall of Voldemort, the wizarding hospital has had a drastic decrease of cases involving deadly curses, but the center still sees plenty of witches and wizards. Among them, is Harry James Potter.
Sitting in one of the private examination rooms that he had just flooed his way into, Harry awaits the arrival of his Obstetrician to observe the progress of his pregnancy. The Head Auror's gaze flickers over to the lively fire burning away in the private fireplace, absently noticing that the flames have returned to their natural orange color. Six months along now, the wizard is showing pretty well even through the loose hospital gown he's currently wearing. His hand idly rubs his protruding belly, as deep-green eyes stare about the brightly lit room.
Reading one of the charts on the far wall, entranced by the moving people emblazoned on the charmed poster, Harry attention is distracted when the door to the room is opened.
"Here you are, pup. Been lookin' all over this place for you."
"Fenrir?," begins Harry, unable to keep the soft smile off of his face. "What are you doing here?"
The large werewolf closes the door behind him with a soft click before walking over to his mate. Inhaling the soft scent of the pregnant wizard instantly soothes the unrest that Fenrir has been feeling all day.
"I wanted to be here, so I came. Besides, Derrick and Scarlett can handle being in charge for a few hours. Mason's there too, if things get really out of hand."
Upon closer inspection of Harry, the werewolf notices the dark circles underneath the wizard's emerald eyes. Fenrir's fingers gently raise the auror's chin as his intense gaze scans Harry's face.
"You look tired," comments Fenrir after a few moments as his hand starts to run through the wizard's thick, dark locks.
"Well, I had that meeting early this morning. And, um, I didn't sleep so well last night."
As he speaks, Harry closes his eyes and leans into the gentle touch. The wizard is so occupied enjoying the larger man's presence that he barely hears what escapes Fenrir's lips.
"I slept like shite on that damn couch."
There is an awkward silence between the couple as neither man wants to mention their fight from the night before. Shifting a bit on the examination table, Harry clears his throat before locking his gaze with the werewolf.
"I'm really glad that you came."
"Me too," replies Fenrir. Dropping his own gaze to Harry's swollen belly, he remembers what Scarlett told him back in the cave. "I didn't mean any of that rot I said to you yesterday."
Harry finds himself genuinely surprised by the apology as Fenrir Greyback isn't one to offer such things. However, what makes the wizard smile is the honest sincerity behind the man words.
"Thank you, Fenrir. However, I think you and I both know that you meant every word of what you said," answers Harry, his smile transforming into a smirk at the surprised look on the man's face. "We've been living together for the past four months and I've gotten to know you pretty well, Fenrir Greyback. You don't say anything you don't mean."
Pausing for effect, Harry takes a deep breath before he continues.
"Besides, you were right—magic, in the wrong hands, is dangerous. Unfortunately for both of us, we've been overly exposed to the evils that can be done with magic. However, without it, I know for a fact that I wouldn't be the person that I am today."
As he speaks, Harry takes one of Fenrir's large hands and rests it over their baby growing inside him.
"And despite everything that magic has taken away, look at what it has given to us. Without magic, we wouldn't have our baby."
The werewolf is made speechless when he feels gentle shifting underneath his palm. The active movements of his unborn cub causes a warm smile to distort the infamous werewolf's rugged features.
"Our cub is gettin' stronger," replies Fenrir, a bit unsure of how to respond to Harry's earlier statement. "He just kicked my hand."
"The baby always starts moving more when it hears your voice. I think he likes it."
Before Fenrir can properly comment on that observation, the door of the private exam room opens once again. This time, a Mediwitch clad in white healer's robes comes in. The woman looks to be in her late thirties, but her positive and vibrant smile makes her face look younger. Olive-toned skin is complimented by the dark curly hair that falls to her shoulders. Settling her supplies on a nearby desk, the woman turns to face her patient.
"Ah, hello again, Mr. Potter," greets the witch, receiving a smile in return from the Head Auror before turning to the werewolf beside him. "And Mr. Greyback, I heard from Healer Smethwyck that you were in the building today. I'm Healer Merriweather, by the way. It's nice to formally meet you."
Fenrir acknowledges the woman with a grunt, earning a chastising look from his mate. He remains close to Harry as the witch unfurls a scroll containing the wizard's extensive medical history. Pulling out a quill from the folds of her robe, she quickly charms it with her wand to record her examination of the Head Auror.
"So, Harry why don't you lie back and we'll begin."
Taking the Mediwitch's suggestion, the young wizard shifts back on the padded examination table. He adjusts himself so that his body is centered and raises the hospital gown until his round belly is exposed. Harry then lies down and waits for the examination to begin as per usual. However, he smiles as Fenrir pulls up a seat beside him and once again starts to run his fingers through dark, unruly hair. The wizard can't decide if the simple contact is more soothing for him or for Fenrir, either way his eyes drift shut at the reassuring touch.
Approaching the pregnant auror, the witch takes out her wand and murmurs a quick spell. The tip starts to glow as she uses it to draw a series of glowing symbols over the growing baby in Harry's belly.
"What're you drawin'?"
At the question, both the wizard and witch look over to the werewolf. The healer smiles as she finishes her work before turning to explain the ancient runes to the suspicious man watching her every move.
"This is just a simple alchemic circle, Mr. Greyback. Due to the sensitive nature of Harry's pregnancy, I've been using alternative magic as oppose to the spells we normally use here in the obstetrics ward. Harry has mentioned that you are a bit wary when it comes to magic. Is this alright?"
"It's fine, as long as it doesn't hurt either of them," replies the werewolf, allowing the witch to continue her examination.
At the consideration, Fenrir simultaneously feels a wave of affection for his mate as well as a bit of guilt at the way he had been acting—a rare occurrence for the alpha wolf. Harry notices the expression, as brief as it is, and simply offers him a soft smile.
"It looks like everything is developing normally, as far as I can tell," comments Healer Merriweather, interrupting the silent conversation between the two men. "The womb that Harry's body has produced seems to be holding up well and properly nourishing the baby as well as providing the magic necessary to sustain itself."
"Wait, what exactly is goin' on inside the pup?"
Upon hearing the confusion in Fenrir's voice, the Mediwitch turns around with an understanding smile. She casts a spell on the adjacent wall. For a moment nothing happens, then the existing shadows begin to come to life and transform themselves into a visual for Healer Merriweather's explanation.
"Well, this is mostly conjecture, but from what I've been told from Harry as well as what I've deduced from my own observations, this is what I think caused this remarkable pregnancy. The night you two, conceived your baby, a merging of magical energy occurred. It's quite miraculous actually, after all there are only a few documented cases of male pregnancies in Wizarding History. However, I believe that I've finally isolated all the factors involved in this particular case."
As she speaks a feature-less male figure(representing Harry) is formed by the shadows. In the figure's midsection, a white spark(representing Harry's magical core) appears.
"Now, all wizards and witches are born with a magical core," begins the woman, her tone indicated that this is only the start of her presentation. "The strength of each individual's magical core determines how powerful that wizard or witch will be. In Harry's case, and as you can see here, he has an extraordinarily strong core of magic."
Turning her attention back to the couple to make sure that they are following her, the Mediwitch then shifts her gaze to Fenrir.
"And in your case Mr. Greyback, you are an alpha werewolf. Werewolves, regardless of rank, are creatures of natural magic that are able to transform themselves. They are also one of the few magical creatures that create more of their kind by 'turning' other humans, similar to Vampirism. However, unlike other magical creatures, the aggressive genes associated with lycanthropy are spread through an exchange of bodily fluids and have been stimulated by the supernatural properties of a full moon. Now, when an exchange of bodily fluids that includes lycanthropy occurs without a full moon, the genes are still transferred but in a far-less aggressive state. These weaker genes are unable to spark the full genetic transformation of a human into a werewolf, as in the case of your acquaintance Bill Weasley. Do you both understand everything so far?"
At her pause, Healer Merriweather turns to see if the two men are following her explanation. Harry and Fenrir both seem to be a bit overwhelmed with this onslaught of information pouring out from the smiling healer. However, they both nod for her to continue with her informative presentation.
"Well, it seems that during your sexual intercourse, the introduction of Fenrir's extremely potent sperm sparked a completely unique reaction within Harry's body."
At this point, the spark within the shadow figure grows bigger before changing color, from a glowing white to a soft blue.
"Now, normally, when werewolves have intercourse with wizards and muggles it doesn't have such profound effects outside traditional pregnancy and sexually-transmitted diseases. However Harry, due to your exposure to such powerful spells and curses at such a young age, the magical core within your body is very adaptable in addition to being incredibly strong. So, when confronted with such a pure strain of lycanthropy from an alpha werewolf, it reacted. It created life, even though you are not biologically capabale of carrying a child in a traditional fashion."
To end the presentation, a bubble of energy forms around the spark within the shadow figure's midsection. The shadows on the wall now represent the six-month pregnant Harry Potter.
"So, would my body have done the same thing if I had slept with someone besides Fenrir?" asks Harry, ignoring the annoyed grumble from the werewolf beside him as his eyes remain on shadow representation of himself.
"Probably not. It takes a very high level of magic for wizards to become pregnant, from both parents," the Mediwitch answers as the shadows return to their original forms. "In addition to that, the magical energies of both parents have to compliment each other. To be perfectly honest, Harry, I can't think of any other wizard that currently possesses your level of magic. However, as the Alpha werewolf, Fenrir has an immense level of natural magic that is most likely on par with you. It is also important to note that werewolves are famous for their virility and fertility, after all they are said to be the children of the moon goddess herself. Nine times out of ten, intercourse involving lycanthropes results in pregnancy for the female involved. And in this case, there was a certain level of raw desire there as well."
"Desire?"
"Well yes, Harry, you were receptive to Fenrir on some level. Otherwise, your magic wouldn't have created the life that you now carry. And in the same respect, Mr. Greyback was drawn to you. It could have been simple scent indicators, a base reaction to your mutual compatibility, or he simply just found you physically attractive. Either way, it was enough for the lupine instincts deeply-instilled within Fenrir to ensure that you conceived a baby from your union."
At this bit of news, Healer Merriweather watches as a myriad of expression settles on both Harry and Fenrir's faces. Neither the wizard nor the werewolf seem upset by the news, simply overwhelmed by the information and perhaps a bit surprised by it.
"I'm going to give you two a minute to talk things over. I'll be back in a few moments."
Excusing herself, the woman slips out of the room. The door closes behind her with a soft click.
"That was err-interesting," begins Harry, interrupting the silence that has settled.
"Yeah, you could say that, alright. You sure this witch knows what she's doin'?"
"Yes," replies Harry, with a chuckle. "She's worked with Healer Smethwyck and has a background in treating lycanthropy."
The comment earns a scoff from the lycan before him, however Harry continues.
"Apparently, she's even written quite a few books on werewolf anatomy and physiology. Hermione highly recommended her."
As Harry shifts a bit from his position on the table, piercing blue eyes watch as the wizard's hand idly rubs their growing child. Fenrir's thoughts start to drift back to the Mediwitch's explanation for their cub, and admittedly, the werewolf is surprised by the full power of lycanthropy. A heavy sigh leaves the man's throat, instantly catching the auror's attention.
"Fenrir? What is it?"
"There's somethin' I want to ask you, pup."
"Alright, go ahead," consents Harry, focusing all his attention on whatever the man is about to ask him.
"After everythin' she said, are you secretly hopin' that the cub comes out like your godson, Teddy Lupin, with no lycan traits at all?"
Harry's first reaction is disbelief at the man's question, especially since they had just fought over this the night before. However, after turning his head, he is shocked to see a expression on Fenrir's face that is not challenging. An expression that simply wants the truth from his mate, nothing more and nothing less.
"There is no particular way that I want our child to come out. I'm just hoping that the baby will be born healthy," begins Harry as he sits up with a bit of effort. "I don't care if he's born with puppy ears and a tail, I will love our child because he's ours. Are you going to be disappointed if the baby turns out to be a wizard?"
At the question, Fenrir immediately locks his gaze with Harry's. His expression is one of intense seriousness, yet it is not meant to be intimidating.
"Pup, what did I tell you that night I put my claim mark on you?"
Harry blushes as the full account of that night's activities come back to him. However, remembering the conversation before the passionate lovemaking, he recalls Fenrir's words.
"You said that you take care of what's yours."
"Well, are you and the cub mine?"
Looking directly into the soul-searing gaze of the man mere inches from him, Harry can't help but give into his mate's possessiveness.
"Yes, we are."
The immediate reply makes Fenrir grin.
"Then that means that both of you will always be taken care of," replies Fenrir matter-of-factly. "That doesn't change just because you're both wizards."
Moving himself closer to the edge of the examination table, Harry is a bit thrown off by his added weight as he attempts to slide off the tall furniture. Noticing the struggle, Fenrir picks the wizard up underneath his arms and gently lowers him to the floor. The maneuver is done with annoyingly little effort, but Harry still feels a bit self-conscious over his steady weight gain.
"I'm not getting too heavy, am I?"
"Pup, you're not fat," offers the werewolf after an appreciative gaze along Harry's form. "You look good with a bit more weight on you. And you look damn good heavy with my cub."
To accentuate his point, Fenrir cups the wizard's bottom in a playful squeeze. The loose hospital gown serves as a barely-noticeable barrier as the man pulls the "Savior of the Wizarding World" closer to his massive frame. Harry isn't a lanky teenager anymore, but he can't help but feel like it pressed against the firm muscles that make up Fenrir Greyback's imposing form.
Harry catches the masculine scent that teases his nostrils as he is gently pressed against the werewolf. He buries his nose further into the man's shirt as the wizard enjoys the aromatic notes that make up his mate's scent. Due to his paranormalcy of his pregnancy, his sensitivity to smell has heightened a bit as a result of the werewolf DNA present within his body. Granted, most of the time it made Harry sick, but at times like these it allowed him to appreciate Fenrir in new ways. Like at the moment, he can smell the sweat on the man's skin paired with the fresh, yet wild, scent that Harry instantly recognizes as the Forbidden Forest.
"I missed you last night, Fen," Harry replies after a few moments. His voice a bit slurred as he is slowly intoxicated by the man's scent.
"Me too, pup."
Leaning down, Fenrir lowers his head to kiss his mate. The exchange starts out sweet, a mere caressing of lips, before their desire starts to make itself known. Pheromones emanate from the pregnant wizard, enticing the alpha wolf to freshen his claim on his mate. And just as their kiss starts to deepen into something else, Healer Merriweather returns, her eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight that greets her. Clearing her throat, the couple reluctantly stops their actions.
"Er-Sorry."
"No need to apologize, Mr. Potter," offers the witch with a knowing smile. "Pregnancy hormones make you desire your partner more. I suppose it's nature's way of keeping the father interested despite all the mood swings and whatnot."
Laughing a bit at her own joke, the Mediwitch regains her calm and returns to the business at hand.
"Anyway, while I was gone I ran a few tests and everything is progressing well. During your final trimester, I want you to take it easy and continue taking your supplement potions. I know you are Head Auror, but I highly recommend that you do not do anything too stressful or labor intensive, that also means using your magic. Try not to exhaust your magical core by using too complex spells. The simple concealment charms you've been using to keep your pregnancy private shouldn't have a negative effect, but if you start to feel a bit drained remove them and get some rest. You've informed the Minister of your condition, correct?"
"Yes, and Kingsley has me on strict desk duty. Ron Weasley is handling any of my more intensive duties until after I've delivered the baby."
"Excellent. If anything happens, anything at all, please let me know. As we've discussed before, this is an extremely high-risk pregnancy so we want to be extra careful."
"I'll make sure the pup takes it easy," assures Fenrir, earning a smile from the healer.
"Great. Then I hope to see both of you again in a month for your next appointment and we can start going over your delivery options then. Did either of you have any further questions for me?"
"Er, I have one," Harry pipes up, attracting the attention of the witch and the werewolf. "Are we having a boy or a girl?"
At the question, Healer Merriweather's smile grows.
"It looks likes the two of you are going to have a healthy baby boy," answers the witch, smiling at Harry and Fenrir's expressions. "Congratulations you two!"
With that cheerful goodbye, the Mediwitch leaves the wizard and werewolf to themselves. The second that the door closes, Harry is surprised to find himself surrounded by Fenrir's thick arms. A large smile appears on the auror's face as he relaxes into the embrace.
"I can't believe that we're going to have a little boy."
"Did you want a girl?" asks the werewolf, as he settles his chin on top of familiar dark hair.
"It didn't really matter to me, how about you?"
"Well, I was hopin' for a boy," Fenrir admits as he starts to sniff along the curve of Harry's throat. "I don't know about you, but I've got no clue how to raise a girl."
Harry laughs at the statement as he turns around in the man's arms. His bright green eyes look up at the taller man as he smiles.
"You do make a good point. She'd probably have us wrapped around her little finger before her first birthday."
"I wouldn't mind if our next cub is a girl, though. Atleast then, she'd have a big brother to look out for her."
At those words, Harry is rendered speechless. He never expected that Fenrir would not only want another cub, but had spent time thinking about it. A smile appears on the wizard's face at the thought of finally building his own family. Not wanting to expose how touched he is by the simple statement, Harry slides his hands up to rest on the man's broad shoulders.
"Let's focus on this baby first, and then we can start planning his siblings, Fenrir."
Unbeknownst to Harry, the man's words were testing the waters to see if the wizard even wanted to carry more of their children. The positive response makes a victorious grin appear on Fenrir's face.
"Well, there's no harm in practicin', is there?"
Before the wizard can ask what his mate means, Harry releases a small moan as their earlier kiss is suddenly restarted. A soft moan leaves the wizard's lips as he melts into the heated exchange. It isn't until hungry lips leave his mouth to focus some attention on the claiming mark decorating his throat, that Harry regains some coherency.
"F-fenrir, not here."
"Why not? You didn't seem to mind so much a few minutes ago."
"That was different," rationalizes the auror, as he forces himself to move out of Fenrir's reach. "Besides, I don't particularly want to have sex in an examination room that anyone could walk into."
"Then where would you like to go?"
Taking a moment to think, Harry smiles as an idea comes to him.
"I have a place in mind, but we have to stop at home first," states the pregnant wizard as he begins to change back into his clothing. "There are some supplies that we need."
"Kinky," comments Fenrir, his piercing blue gaze watching his mate shed the hospital gown and expose his slim body.
"It's nothing like that you dirty old man," Harry chastises over his shoulder as he slips a large t-shirt over himself—his cheeks reddening despite his words. "And quit staring like you want to eat me or something, it's unnerving."
"Oh, but I do want to eat you up, pup." teases the werewolf as he nears Harry, almost stalking the wizard as he finishes getting dressed. "Every delectable morsel."
After the couple has left Saint Mungo's and made a quick stop at their shared cottage outside of Hogsmeade, the two find themselves in the picturesque English countryside. There is no one around for miles as both men sit upon a worn blanket in an open meadow. The soft grasses sway back in forth in the slight breeze as the sun sits low in the sky. A warm orange glow is cast over Harry and Fenrir. At the moment, the werewolf is watching as Harry digs about in a small sack. Like Hermione's beaded handbag, it has been charmed to hold more than its size suggests.
"I know I put it in here," comments Harry as he looks further into it. His whole arm has now seemingly-disappeared inside the enchanted bag.
Watching this rather comic endeavor, a grin appears on the elder man's face.
"What is it that you're looking for, pup?"
"It's supposed to be a surprise, so I can't just tell you. I just hope that it didn't br—Oh, here it is!"
With a victorious smile, Harry pulls out a magically-chilled glass bottle that is filled with a clear liquid. Seeing the bottle, Fenrir's gaze becomes curious.
"What is it that you've got there, pup?"
"Well, I sort of asked Scarlett to do me a little favor. And because of our situation, I know that it's been a while since you've been able to go to the Taiga and see your pack. So, I thought you'd appreciate a little taste of home."
Realizing what the bottle contains, the werewolf grins at Harry as he brings over the bottle and a single glass. The wizard had remembered the vodka that Fenrir mentioned the night they went to see the unicorn herd in the Forbidden Forest and had apparently conviced Scarlett to bring him a bottle. The liquor is a handcrafted local recipe available only in the Russian Taiga. It isn't a fancy-brewed vodka, but its uniquely-bold taste paired with its smoothness easily make it Fenrir's favorite.
"Pup, you didn't have to do this."
"No, but I wanted to," replies Harry as he opens the bottle and begins to fill the glass for the werewolf. "I mean, I know you miss your pack—even though you never complain about it. And it can't be easy having to deal the Ministry of Magic on your back everyday as well as a pregnant mate with insane mood swings. And don't think I don't notice all the other little things you do."
At the reasoning, an appreciative smile appears on the well-defined features of Fenrir Grayback.
"You're carryin' our cub, the least I could do is make sure that you're both comfortable."
"Well, it's appreciated. So drink up."
At the wizard's insistence, the werewolf takes a sip of the handcrafted liquor. Unlike an ale, every sip of this vodka is meant to be thoroughly savored. The man lets the drink sit on his tongue for a few moments before swallowing the liquid, a satisfying burn following afterwards.
"This is good," murmurs Fenrir as he takes another sip.
"Good, I'm glad you're enjoying it," begins Harry as he closes the bottle. Putting it aside, he takes a deep breath. "So, er-last night, after our disagreement, I had a lot of time to think. I really don't want to keep fighting over the same issue, Fen. I want to offer you a compromise."
"Alright."
Watching the man enjoy the Russian vodka, Harry firms his voice.
"If you promise me that we can stay here in England, at least until after the baby is born," begins the auror, keeping his face neutral. "Then I promise that the baby and I will both return with you to Russia, to live with your pack, on a trial basis."
For a moment, the alpha werewolf is in complete shock as he stares down at Harry. Intense blue eyes stare past trademark glasses and into the wizard's green ones, searching for the sincerity in his words. The werewolf is surprised to find it clearly reflected in Harry's expression and that this is not an empty gesture. Putting his glass down, Fenrir moves closer to the wizard. Harry is transfixed by the gaze trained on him, all he can do is watch as the well-muscled body moves closer and closer to him.
"You need to stop doin' all these nice things for me, pup," the werewolf replies, his voice now lowered to a husky growl. "Makes me want to do some really nice things for you."
Gently nudging his mate so that he lies down on his back, Fenrir begins to crawl over his pregnant mate. His lips settle on the darkened flesh that indicate his claim on the wizard. With a rough lick to the sensitive spot, the man starts to bathe the curve of Harry's throat with teasing kisses and nips of his teeth.
"I said try Fenrir," clarifies Harry as he moves his head away to bare more of his neck to the werewolf's attentions. "I do have a job here. If things don't work out, we'll ah-just have to come up with another compromise."
"Fine with me," growls out the werewolf as his attention switches to the other side of his mate's throat. "I think you'll like living with the pack. Lots of fresh air and open space. No wizards interferin' with our lives."
Enjoying the focused attention that he's receiving, Harry slides his hands up along the thick arms effectively caging him. The slim fingers take their time to explore every muscle, fascinated by their strength.
"But I'm a wizard, is your pack going to be okay with that?"
At the genuine concern in the young wizard's voice, Fenrir pulls back a bit.
"You are the mate of their alpha, they don't have a choice in the matter. Besides, not all of my pack members are full werewolves, Harry. Some of 'em are even muggles."
"Really?"
The look of wonder on the young auror's face makes Fenrir smirk as he leans back in.
"Can't help who you fall for, right?"
Harry smiles at the words and reaches his arms up to bring the man closer to him. In the warm grasses of the English countryside, the two males are finally able to reconnect without the threat of interruption. As the kiss continues, Harry's hands make their way down the man's strong chest just before slipping underneath the fabric of his shirt. When the auror's fingers start unbuckling the man's belt, Fenrir breaks the kiss.
"Stop that, pup, unless you want it right here."
"That's why we're out here, isn't it?" replies Harry as he restarts their kiss, a blush forming on his cheeks.
The wizard's response causes the werewolf to raise an eyebrow in question.
"I didn't think you were serious. Wouldn't take you for the type to like matin' outdoors, Potter."
"Well, I'm not really, but you do, right?"
Not arguing with that, Fenrir leans down to once again kiss Harry. The irresistibly-soft lips seem to mold perfectly against the werewolf's who lets out a small groan at the contact. As they continue kissing, Harry doesn't notice that large hands have made their way underneath his shirt. Wide palms glide over the supple skin as they move upward, moving the fabric with them. A gasp escapes Harry's lips as the thick fingers begin to tease and pull at his peaked nipples.
Enjoying the soft whimpers escaping the wizard's lips, Fenrir breaks their kiss to completely remove the shirt covering Harry's torso. The werewolf pulls back a bit to gaze at the bare form of his mate. Tearing his gaze away from the lust-darkened eyes of Harry Potter, he lingers on the swell of their child growing in the wizard's belly.
Fenrir places a hand on top of their growing child. Feeling the cub, their son, move underneath his palm, he shares a smile with Harry.
A grin quickly replaces his smile as Fenrir lowers his head. Placing soft kisses to the stretched skin covering Harry's navel and hips, his hands start to undo the drawstring holding up Harry's pants.
"W-what're you doing?"
The Head Auror's question remains unanswered as his pants are slowly slid off his narrow hips. Suddenly Harry is arching off the ground as he feels Fenrir's tongue lavish attention to his rapidly-filling member.
"Fenr—ah!" exclaims the wizard as he buries his hands into the grey-streaked hair of his mate, all the while his low moans drift through the open country air.
"That's it pup, I love hearin' you."
The werewolf's steady attentions are maddening, yet effectively work up the wizard to heights he hasn't ever come close to before with anyone else. His words degrade into senseless babbling as Fenrir alternates his technique from gentle licks to intense suckling. All the while, two of his fingers slip into his entrance. The man slowly builds up his pace until the digits are mercilessly stimulating the small gland to heighten the wizard's pleasure.
It isn't long before Harry's body starts to tense as his body prepares for release. His fingers tighten in Fenrir's hair, wordlessly signaling that he is about to snap. With a growl of acknowledgment, the werewolf only increases his attentions and speed Harry towards his end. The wizard's mouth falls open in a soundless scream as he prepares himself to be hit full force with pleasure. Harry is shocked that Fenrir makes no effort to move away and the sight is far more arousing than he cares to admit. So, closing his eyes to focus on the sensations coursing throug him, the wizard thrusts up instinctually into the warm heat of his mate's mouth.
As his body starts to come down from the high that Fenrir has worked it up to, Harry flops back to the blanket-covered ground completely drained of all energy. Uneven pants are the only thing the wizard is capable of producing as a lazy smile comes to his lips. After he tucks Harry away and back into his pants, Fenrir crawls back up his satisfied mate's body. He instigates a slow, lingering kiss, taking the time to lick every inch of his mate's delectable mouth. Harry returns each touch to his lips diligently and without much thought, oddly enjoying the taste of himself paired with Fenrir.
"W-wait," voices Harry, as his lips are freed and Fenrir starts licking along his claim mark. "Er, what about you? Do you want me to, um—"
"Later, I look forward to you doin' whatever you like to me, pup. But now, you need your rest."
Harry accepts the answer with a smirk, already thinking of ways to show his appreciation to the werewolf once his energy returns to him. Resting his head on the broad chest, the wizard curls his body so that he is cradled against Fenrir's imposing form. One of the man's arms sneaks around his waist and brings him closer—the gesture is comforting, as well as an effective way to stave off the chill of the late-summer evening. A smile appears on Harry's face as he feels the werewolf's nose bury itself into his unruly hair.
"You ready to go home, pup?"
At the question, the wizard simply closes his eyes.
"In a few minutes, Fenrir."
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Well, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter, it was fun coming up with an explanation behind Harry's pregnancy. One of the challenges of using MPREG in fanfiction, is that you have to make something impossible(even in a world full of magic) seem plausible without using a cliche approach like an all-too-convenient spell. Granted, I fudged a few things here and there for sake of plot, but I tried to add a little originality to it.
And yeah, Harry and Fenrir are having a little boy! I might draw a fanart of the family, however that probably won't be until after this story is wrapped up(sometime in August).
And by the looks of my story outline, we have about 2-3 more chapters to go before this tale reaches its end(give or take an epilogue). I hope you all stick with me, even with the late updates. Now, I can't guarantee that late updates won't happen again, as things are getting really busy for me, but I will try my best to get chapters out in a timely fashion.
BTW, if you like my writing style and are interested in reading some of my original work, I do have an illustrated novel titled "Beached"(website link : www-beachednovel-weebly-com *just put periods where the dashes are) You can read the first chapter there for free and it also links to the Amazon sell page. Thanks!
Later Days,
RENKA