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.
Sorry for the wait, I recently attended Otakon so a lot of my time was occupied preparing for that as well as planning Nijicon, an East Coast yaoi con! Visit www-nijicon-com for details(replace dashes with periods, please)
Anyway, here's chapter 8, and this is were the story starts to take a slightly different turn(I'm trying not to give too much away here!). There are only about two chapters left after this one.
ENJOY!
CHAPTER EIGHT - Driven Apart
After carefully extricating himself from the arms of his sleeping mate that morning, Fenrir once again finds himself in the Forbidden Forest. The ominous trees are almost comforting in their familiarity. Over the course of about seven months of intense work, nearly all of the eerie woodland has been charted. The aurors' enchanted scroll is now almost completely filled in with the various terrain and territories of the Forbidden Forest. Staring down at the parchment, Fenrir's intense blue eyes narrow on the one, remaining blank area of the map—the cavern system that has fresh evidence of being inhabited by a forest troll.
Since that discovery, Fenrir has kept his group away from the large lumbering creature. Trolls aren't particularly hard to take down, but trolls aren't exactly pleasant either—it is just easier to avoid them whenever possible. In an open environment, the advantages of speed, numbers, and a wide attack range tend to overrule the hulking size and strength of a troll. However, this situation is different. If the troll attacks the werewolves and the aurors inside the cave, the tight confines limit the effectiveness of any attack, either physical or magical.
However despite this rather annoying obstacle, the map of the Forbidden Forest has to be completed—Ministry of Magic's orders.
So with a heavy sigh, Fenrir concedes that they need to finish their exploration of the labyrinth-like cave system. The quicker this all gets done, the quicker he and his new family can return to his pack.
"Alright, we're heading back to the cave system," begins the alpha wolf, his deep voice instantly gaining the attention of the werewolves and aurors around him. "Keep your guard up. The last time we were here, Scarlett and I scented fresh forest troll."
Nodding their ascent, the werewolves dutifully split into two groups. Scarlett and Derrick take Abigail and her fellow wizards as Mason leads the other team of beta wolves and aurors. As supplies are gathered and organized, Fenrir goes over to one of the betas of the other exploration team, a man a few years older than the alpha.
"Espen," he calls, getting the man's attention. "Make sure the aurors in your group are well protected."
"Got it, Fenrir," the elder wolf replies as a smile stretches his worn face. "Wouldn't want to upset your little mate, hmm?"
Fenrir smirks to himself at the comment, as he claps a hand on the other wolf's shoulder.
"Somethin' like that. If anythin' comes up, just make sure they get out first, no exceptions. We wolves can take care of ourselves, but I won't have any of us bein' blamed for an auror gettin' hurt."
With that last order, the groups split up and make their way into the caves once again. Both werewolves and wizards alike are trained for any scent or sound that seems even the slightest bit off. Hours pass by as the team of aurors meticulously map their way through the uncharted areas of the cavern. And despite all them being on edge for a possible troll sighting, nothing more than a few bats and snakes cross their path. It is rather anti-climatic, but it finally allows everyone to relax just a bit.
"Remain sharp," growls out Fenrir, sensing the ease in alertness. "Just because we don't see a troll yet, don't mean it ain't here."
Exploring the winding pathways that sprawl underneath the entire Forbidden Forest is not an easy or quick job. Satisfied with their headway, Fenrir decides that their progress for the day is sufficient. The alpha's group has been moving, with only a break for lunch, for eight hours. And after finally taking a good overall look at the cave system, it is within reason to assume that it will take no more than a week to complete the extensive map.
At this conclusion, a sense of relief washes over Fenrir Greyback. The notorious werewolf is more than ready to be released from his contract with the Ministry of magic.
For the moment, all seems to be well until a series of low thuds are heard. At first they are soft, but grow with time; the cavern seeming to shake with the impact. It doesn't take long for everyone to realize what the source of the ominous sound is—a forest troll. The three werewolves are instantly on alert as they listen to see what direction the troll will take. The tension then heightens as Fenrir, Derrick, and Scarlett realize with varying degrees of dread that the creature is only coming closer.
"Is that the troll?" asks Abigail, her voice low. "Is it coming clo—"
"Everyone stop talking," interrupts Fenrir.
Giving his betas only a look, Fenrir silently gestures to Scarlett and Derrick to remain behind him and guard the aurors.
A few moments pass, and the troll makes it's way to their path. Upon spotting the aurors and three werewolves, the large, cumbersome creature stops in it's tracks. A cry of outrage leaves the troll's mouth as he notices the intruders in his current home.
With apparently no thought, the troll charges towards them, it's mouth snarling in rage. Fenrir quickly takes action and goes to meet the creature head on.
Lashing out with one of it's large, tree trunk arms, the troll attempts to grab the alpha werewolf. Fenrir crouches low and avoids it, then rolls underneath the troll. Confused by the evasive action, the troll turns around to swing again, only to miss again as Fenrir dodges the heavy fist.
As their alpha effectively engages the large beast, Scarlett and Derrick immediately herd the aurors out of harms way.
"Let's go, move it!" shouts Derrick, leading the way to a narrow passageway just big enough for them all to squeeze through. "Apparrate to the mouth of the cave!"
"But what about Mr. Greyback?" asks Abigail, looking over her shoulder as Fenrir manages to body slam the troll into the cave wall.
"He'll be fine," assures Scarlett as she takes the girl's arm. "I've seen him take on bigger and smarter creatures by himself. He can handle a forest troll."
Fenrir continues to effectively dodge the attacks of the troll, distracting him so that the group can make it past the rampaging creature. The werewolf doesn't particularly want to kill it, so he focuses on disarming it. Sidestepping another one of its large fists, Fenrir uses the troll's large weight against him and attacks it's stubby legs. The clumsy creature loses its balance and falls heavily to the ground. A bit confused, but not unconscious, it gets up again. Fenrir pants as his mind works to plan out his next move, this time hoping to permanently disable the creature. However the werewolf is startled from his thoughts as a blast of magic suddenly hits the side of the troll's head. Turning to the source, piercing blue eyes widen to see Abigail standing on the sidelines, her wand out.
"Mr. Greyback, are you alright?"
Her question remains unanswered as the troll gets back up. The creature's dark gaze settles on the new, weaker arrival.
It takes but a moment fro Fenrir to realize what the creature is going to do. Within a few short steps, the troll grabs the girl with surprising speed. Abigail manages to launch another stun spell before she is captured in the troll's grip, but it has little effect. The gargantuan palm around Abigail squeezes her thin body tightly. A pained groan gurgles out of her mouth as intense pressure is applied to her ribs, threatening to break bones. Thankfully, the pressure is short-lived as the troll lets out his own painful cry. Distracted by his new prey, the troll has mistakenly forgotten all about the deadly werewolf. Thick arms lock themselves around the troll's neck, crushing the windpipe of the lumbering creature. And with a sickened crunch, Fenrir forces the creatures head to the side, killing it instantly. The dead troll falls to the ground, releasing Abigail from its hand. For a few moments, only deep haggard breaths escape Fenrir and Abigail's lips and echo in the cave.
"What the fuck were you tryin to do?!" growls out the werewolf as he stands to his feet.
"I-I was just trying to help," winces out the witch.
With a grumble, the werewolf makes his way over to the injured girl. The man gently picks up Abigail into his arms, trying his best not to jostle the injured woman as he stands up. Apparrating to the mouth of the cave, Fenrir instantly attracts everyone's attention.
"What happened?" Derrick asks as he and Scarlett run up to their alpha, the other aurors trailing behind them.
"The troll's dead, the girl got hurt, though."
At hearing this, the other aurors come closer to the injured auror. With a wand out, one of the witches attempts to heal her friend. In the light of the afternoon sun, the bruises that litter Abigail's face are now visible. A whimper escapes her throat as the light touch of magic aggravates the intense pain radiating from the witch's torso.
"These wounds are serious. I'm afraid I can't do anymore than numb the pain a bit."
Considering the other auror's words for a moment, Fenrir firms his grip on the injured witch in his arms.
"Derrick, wait here for Espen's group. Let them now what happened and makes sure that the aurors return safely to Hogsmeade. I'll meet you there when I can."
"Fenrir, what're you going to do?" asks Scarlett, concern in her eyes as she spots the grim expression on her alpha's face.
"Well first, I'm takin' her to Saint Mungo's to see a healer. We all know that I'm better at breaking bones than mending 'em. After that, I'll probably have to deal with the Ministry for awhile."
The werewolf says nothing else as he apparates himself and Abigail to the wizard hospital. But after their alpha leaves, Scarlett and Derrick share a mutual look of concern.
In the creature injury wing of Saint Mungo's, Healer Hippocrates Smethwyck is more than surprised to see Fenrir Greyback approaching him. The two aren't exactly on good terms, seeing as the medi-wizard had treated many of the infamous werewolf's victims. However, despite that, the healer is a professional. A fact that is proven when he ignores Fenrir to immediately focus on the injured witch in his arms.
"What happened?"
"Forest Troll attack," replies the werewolf, as he gently deposits Abigail onto an empty stretcher. "I'm pretty sure a few of her ribs are broken."
Nodding, the healer immediately approaches the witch whimpering in pain. Smethwyck then goes to work to verify the werewolf's rough diagnosis.
"Yes, there are definitely a few broken ribs," states the healer, using a hand to gently feel the damage. "It appears that there is some intense bruising as well. Thankfully, it doesn't appear that any of her ribs have punctured any organs."
At the touches, Abigail whimpers again as he face tightens in pain.
"What is you name, Miss?"
"A-abigail."
"Alright Abigail. You're going to be fine," assures Healer Smethwyck. "A few broken bones are easy to fix around here."
"T-thank you."
Looking over his shoulder, the Healer in charge notices a few apprentice healers walking by.
"You three, help me take this witch to the exam room. We have some broken ribs to mend and internal bruising to alleviate."
Fenrir watches silently as the flurry of healers take Abigail away to be properly healed. The man hoping that the well-meaning witch will be alright.
"Fenrir, there you are! How's Abigail?"
Turning around, the werewolf finds himself face to face with the worried expression of his mate. Harry is dressed in his official Ministry robes, the flowing material hiding their child well even without the use of cloaking charms. Seeing the large forest green eyes staring up expectantly at him, Fenrir's expression softens ever so slightly, the man mindful of where they are.
"Accordin' to Smethwyck, she'll be fine. He's looking over her now."
Noticing the concerned look on the man's face. Harry places a hand on Fenrir's broad shoulder. The wizard apparently not caring who could be watching them at the moment.
"Don't blame yourself Fenrir. I know that you did everything you could to protect her."
"How are you so sure of that?" asks the man with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, I know that you are a good alpha. And a good alpha takes care of those he's responsible for, including my aurors."
"Not good enough, apparently," argues the werewolf.
"They all knew what dangers they were facing, and each one of the aurors with you are well-trained to handle those dangers," Harry offers as a counter argument. "And more importantly, they all think for themselves, Abigail especially. That's why I chose them to accompany a group of werewolves led by the notorious Fenrir Greyback."
"Wait, you chose the aurors?"
The incredulous look on the werewolf's face causes a chuckle to leave Harry's lips.
"Well, Shacklebolt just asked me to choose the aurors I thought best suited to the task of mapping out the Forbidden Forest. The werewolf part I discovered once I read the full proposal," replies the Head Auror nonchalantly. "But still, I chose Abigail, because she's smart and brave. The other aurors told me how she went back on her own to help you. Granted, it might not have been the wisest thing Abigail has ever done, but I'm still very grateful to her."
"Why?"
With a secretive smile, Harry locks eyes with Fenrir.
"She protected my mate when I wasn't there to do it myself."
At the surprised look on Fenrir's face, Harry's hand squeezes the man's shoulder reassuringly.
"Abigail is a tough witch, she'll be alright."
At the shared smile, Harry leads the way into the ward. Both men to wait for the Healers to finish their work on the injured witch.
But unfortunately for Fenrir, the Minister of Magic isn't quite as understanding as Harry.
"Fenrir, that girl could have died!" exclaims Kingsley, his deep voice echoing throughout his office a few hours later. "An auror getting seriously injured under the watch of Fenrir Greyback will not be taken well. When the Daily Prophet gets a hold of this story, they will have a field day."
"I'm well aware of that, Shacklebolt," replies the werewolf as he stands before the Kingsley, his arms crossed over his chest.
At the nonchalant response, the Minister settles further into his chair with a sigh. His hand goes up to massage his temple, no doubt a futile attempt to stave off an upcoming headache.
"The ministry needs that map completed as quickly as possible," starts the dark-skinned wizard as he reviews an official-looking parchment on his desk. "Due to recent events, they now want the Forbidden Forest charted before the students return to Hogwarts in September. That only gives you another week or so."
"Shouldn't be a problem."
"However, they now also want you to investigate a series of severe wolf attacks in Alaska that are being reported by Muggle newspapers. The evidence points to it being a rouge werewolf."
"Alaska?!" shouts Fenrir, the werewolf turning over a nearby chair. "This job with the Forbidden Forest was supposed to be my last! You wizards just can't just go add things onto it, we had a fuckin' deal!"
"You messed up, Fenrir," points out Kingsley, the man impressively impassive with an angry werewolf tearing up his office. "You should be glad that this is all the Ministry wants you to do to make amends. Besides, it should be an easy job for you to handle one of your own."
"Whether or not I can handle some damn rouge werewolf isn't the problem, Shacklebolt."
"Then what is the problem?"
At the question, Fenrir thinks back to the compromise he agreed to with Harry. He promised his pregnant mate that they would stay in England until after the baby is born. He had given Harry his word and has no intention of breaking it, even for the Ministry of Magic.
"The cub is due in November."
Minister Shacklebolt's face visibly softens at the statement.
"Ah, I see. Well, there is no reason why Harry cannot go with you. I can provide both of you with another home while you handle this assignment in Alaska. I'll send you the details later. Until then, give your better half my best."
Getting up to leave the man's office, Fenrir's thoughts are heavy. He doesn't want to break his promise to Harry, yet at the same time he can't let his pack down. After all, he's not the only werewolf looking forward to being free of the bureaucratic wizards. Yet, the hard truth of the matter is that as long as the Ministry had Fenrir Greyback under their control, they controlled every werewolf that followed him.
In the days that pass after the forest troll attack, Fenrir focuses all his energy into his work. The arduous task of completing the map of Forbidden Forest is a welcome distraction from the looming decision that he has to make. This sudden dedication from Fenrir has caught the attention of his beta wolves, as well as the aurors, yet no one is willing to risk questioning the irate alpha.
However, no one has noticed the change in Fenrir more than the werewolf's mate, Harry James Potter.
One morning, as he watching the large man get ready to leave the cottage for another day, the green-eyed auror approaches Fenrir with a determined look on his face.
"Fenrir, is everything alright?"
"Yeah, pup," rumbles out Fenrir. At the odd look on the wizard's face, he looks deeper at Harry. "Is everything alright with you and the cub?"
"Yes. Healer Merriweather said everything's fine with the baby," Harry assures him, his hand subconsciously rubbing over their growing baby. "At my last appointment, we decided that we'd continue to use alchemy to deliver the baby instead of a spell or an operation. We even scheduled an appointment to do the procedure in November. I had kind of hoped that were going to meet me at Saint Mungo's."
"Some things came up in the Forest. I couldn't leave, Harry."
As the man speaks, his attention is focused on tying the strings of his boots.
"Oh, alright. I understand. Um, Hermione and I are planning to go shopping for some things for the baby in London. Do you think that you could join us, later?"
"I dunno, pup. Things are getting really busy out in the forest. The cavern system is almost finished."
"I see."
Finished putting his boots on, the werewolf stands up to his full height.
His thick fingers tilt Harry's face upward. Placing a quick kiss to the wizard's lips he turns to put on his coat.
"I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait up for me, pup. You need your rest."
"Alright. Have a good d—"
Harry's words die out as the werewolf walks out of the door. As the click echoes throughout the house, a sigh leaves the wizard's lips.
He places a hand on his enlarged stomach as he feels the baby move inside him. Even after carrying for the last six months or so, it is still an odd feeling for Harry. A soft smile graces the auror's face as the baby appears to finally settle down.
"You're worried about your father, too, aren't you, little guy?" asks the pregnant wizard, conversing with his unborn son. After a moment, he lets out a sigh. "Let's make tea while we wait for Aunt Hermione, hmm?"
Turning around, Harry makes his way towards the kitchen. The wizard secretly proud of himself that his stride hasn't become a full-blown waddle yet. Reaching the kitchen, he fills the tea kettle and places it on the stove. Literally watching water boil, the wizard is surprised when Hermione suddenly enters the room.
"Good morning, Harry!" greets the witch with a smile. "Sorry I'm late, but Ron insisted that I make pancakes before I left. He's fascinated by how muggles make them without magic."
"Hey Hermione," greets Harry as he hands one of his closest friends a cup of tea.
"Harry, are you alright?"
"I'm fine, just a bit tired. Hopefully the tea will help."
Hermione doesn't quite believe her friend, but decides to let the subject drop for now.
"Alright, if you say so. Are you ready to go then?"
"Yes, let me just get my jacket."
It takes only a touch to the portkey Hermione has created for the pair to find themselves walking through downtown London. As the two wizards enter one of the small boutiques, the couple is warmly greeted by a elderly woman running the store, but are then left to shop at their leisure. Then again, this is probablt due to the glamour charm as well as a protecting ward protecting Harry's hidden baby. To an outsider, it simply looks like Harry and Hermione are a young, expecting couple shopping for their first baby.
"Now why on Earth would a baby need a purse?" inquires Hermione, holding up a ridiculously-small replica of a couture purse. "This is just excessive, don't you think?"
"Err, sure."
"Harry, what's wrong?" asks Hermione, with a concerned tone.
The witch has noticed that Harry has been down all morning, however it has only intensified since entering the baby clothing store. Placing her hand on his shoulder, Hermione steers Harry to a less-populated area of the shop.
"It's nothing, really," offers the Head Auror as he finds himself in an aisle full of stuffed animals of all species and colors.
"Harry, it's quite obvious that it is not nothing. Now out with it."
Noticing the stern look on the woman's face, Harry knows that the clever witch will see through any lie immediately. He takes a deep breath to clear his thoughts as his fingers absently start stroking a nearby teddy bear.
"Well, it's just that Fenrir has been acting so different, lately. Something is bothering him but he won't tell me."
"Maybe he's just preoccupied with his work," suggests Hermione. "That auror, Abigail was seriously hurt, wasn't she? I'm sure he's just on edge about that."
"I wish that's all it is. He's being distant," admits Harry. "Fenrir is many things, but never distant. If anything, he's usually all over me."
At first Hermione is confused by her friend's joking words. But when she looks closer at Harry, her eyes soften at the hidden sadness in his eyes.
"Harry, if how Fenrir is acting bothers you, you should talk to him about it. He is your mate, isn't he? And after all, he might not even be aware that he's acting this way. "
"That's just it. I can't talk to him. He only comes home to sleep and eat. I barely see him long enough to have a full conversation. Apparently, he doesn't even have enough time to be intimate with me."
At the blush forming on her friend's face, Hermione instantly gets the hidden meaning of his words.
"Are you saying that you two aren't having sex anymore?" inquires the witch, lowering her voice to a whisper.
"Yeah. It's been awhile since he's touched me. Before, it was unusual if we only did it once a day. Now, I'm lucky if I get a parting kiss."
"Harry, I'm sure it's nothing. I mean, I've seen the way he looks at you. To be honest, I've apparated in on you two enough times to know that there is a definite attraction between the two of you."
"But what if he's tired of me? I mean, look at me. I'm as big as a house and I'm ridiculously hormonal. I literally cried over spilt milk the other day. I mean, if he's lost interest, it would explain a lot."
"Harry, stop that train of thought this instant. You and I both know that isn't the case. It's obviously something else."
Taken aback by Hermione's insistence, Harry's eyes widen in surprise. The wizard can't deny that hearing those words from his friend's mouth does wonders to ease his doubts.
"I really hope you're right, Hermione."
"When will you and Ronald learn?" begins the witch with a grin. "I am always right. Now let's pick out some practical clothes for the baby."
With a small smile, Harry follows Hermione back to the clothing section of the store.
Exactly one week later, the main hall of the Ministry of Magic is enchanted with beautiful decorations. All in attendance are celebrating the success of the teams of werewolves and aurors that have completely charted the dangerous terrain of the Forbidden Forest. On the large wall, the intricate map is displayed for all to see. The ancient territorial lines of various magical creatures as well as the many natural wonders of the Forbidden Forest are on display on the large enchanted parchment. Kingsley and a few other high-ranking ministers stand before the map as reporter wizards take photos and interview them.
From his position far from the attention of the wizards, Fenrir watches the spectacle. His blue eyes are indifferent, the werewolf not truly caring if the Ministry wants to take credit for the work he and his betas have done. All he cares about is the reward that the completion of this task ensures.
Lost in his thoughts, the man still notices the appearance of his mate. The familiar scent of the pregnant wizard teases him, making his nostrils flare in an effort to inhale more of the intoxicating aroma.
"Hello, pup."
At the greeting, a bright smile blossoms across Harry's face.
"I saw the map today, it looks great Fenrir. I can't believe that you all did all that work so quickly, and with months to spare! It's brilliant. I'm so proud of you."
Isolated in their alcove of the dark marble hallway, Harry reaches up to hug the man with a wide smile on his face. The werewolf is surprised by the gesture, but makes no move to avoid it. It has been far too long since he's had his mate in hims arms.
Caught up in the embrace, Fenrir's breath hitches as he picks up on the hints of lust emanating from the pregnant wizard. The scent only serving to further remind the man of how long he's been withholding from enjoying all of the aspects of being mated to Harry Potter. Now that the map of the Forbidden Forest is finally completed, the werewolf would prefer to celebrate the accomplishment with his mate rather than at the Ministry of Magic. Hell, if Fenrir had his way, he'd be pushing his mate up against the closest wall to show everyone in the room exactly who the Savior of the Wizarding World belongs to. And the way that Harry keeps shyly sneaking glances up at him isn't helping matters.
"Enough of that pup. It's too close to the full moon to tease me like that," growls out Fenrir as he reluctantly removes Harry's arms from around his neck. "Can't promise I'll be gentle with ya."
At the husky tone, Harry has to bite his lip to stop the moan from his lips—it has been far too long since his mate has given him more than a lingering kiss. Schooling his features to a more appropriate expression, Harry looks up at the man.
"Are you going to be alright with the full moon and all?"
At the genuine concern, Fenrir looks at his mate. The blush tainting the wizard's cheeks paired with the fresh wave of lust pouring off Harry, makes the werewolf emit a low growl.
"I'll be fine. Just stop teasing me when I can't do anything about it," grumbles out the werewolf. His voice lacking any real bite to it.
"So," begins Harry, his hand trailing up the man's arm. "What are you going to do when you can do something about it?"
At the challenge, whatever is left of Fenrir's restraint breaks.
Harry's eyes widen in surprise as he is suddenly pushed against the wall. The only thing separating the mated couple from the crowd of the party is a heavy curtain. The wizard's lips are suddenly assaulted by Fenrir's mouth, a whimper leaving his throat at the passionate kiss that engulfs him. Just as suddenly as it started, the kiss is broken off as the werewolf suddenly spins Harry around. With his hands pressed against the cool marble, the wizard groans as he feels a rough lick to his mating mark. Possessive hands travel down the side of his body, rubbing slowing over their growing child, before the large palms rest on the slight curve of Harry's hips. A gasp leaves the wizard's lips as he feels a familiar bulge pressing into his ass.
"The second we leave here, we're headed straight for our bed," begins Fenrir, as his hips mimic what he really wants to do. "Can't say that we'll stay there though. We both know how much you like it when we go at it on the floor, against a wall, in the kitch—"
"Ah Fenrir," moans out Harry, interrupting the words pouring from Fenrir's mouth.
A grin appears on the werewolf's face as he notices that the wizard is trying to keep his voice down.
"However, you and I have a party to attend. So, unfortunately, this is gonna have to wait."
Sending a glare over his shoulder at the cockiness in Fenrir's voice, Harry takes a second to get his bearings.
"Alright, let's get this over with."
The werewolf smirks at the impatience in his mate's voice before attempting to help straighten out the Head Auror's robes. Satisfied that they both look presentable, the wizard and the werewolf make their way out of their private alcove and towards the party. As they walk, a sudden, sharp pain in his side makes Harry wince. Instantly, a thick arm winds its way around him.
"Pup?"
"I'm alright. It's just a cramp."
"Do you need to sit down?"
"No, walking a bit seems to help, actually. Water would be nice though."
"Water it is, then."
Leaning against one of the tall table through out the hall, Harry watches Fenrir disappear into the crowd in search of the open bar. It isn't long until the wizard is approached by the Minister of Magic, a warm smile on his features.
"Oh, Hello Harry."
"Hello Kingsley," Harry replies, easing his discomfort by rubbing his side in slow circles.
"Marvelous party, isn't it? The Ministry wanted to go all out, after all this is the first time that anyone's attempted to map the Forbidden Forest. Let alone, actually do it."
"I'm sure that they are even more pleased that it was done early."
"Well, Fenrir had a bit of incentive," agrees Shacklebolt. "Speaking of which, I hope that you both are all packed."
"Packed?"
"Yes, this time next week you'll be in Alaska, I imagine. Compared to the snow of Hogsmeade, I'm sure you both will adjust just fine. And don't worry, your paid leave will kick in about a month so that you two can get things 'settled'. Although personally, I think Ron can't wait for you to return all your duties as Head Auror. I found the poor boy sleeping at his desk the other day."
At the chuckle that leaves Kingsley mouth at the end of his words, Harry smiles politely, somehow managing to hide his growing anger. It is at that exact moment that Fenrir returns and hands Harry a goblet of water. With a glare, the wizard takes it and takes a deep sip.
"What did I miss?"
"Well Fenrir, Kinglsey and I were just talking about our trip to Alaska next week. The one that you failed to mention."
The werewolf tenses up the second he detects the low simmering rage in his mate's voice.
"Well, excuse me. I'll leave you two to your discussion."
With that, the Minister of Magic leaves Fenrir to deal with an irate Head Auror. The minister ignoring the pointed glare coming from the alpha werewolf.
"Look Harry I-"
"I don't want to hear it. You promised me that we could stay here in England until the baby is born. Why didn't you just tell Kingsley to wait?"
"It ain't that simple, pup."
"Why not? You don't let anyone else tell you what to do. What's the difference if it's the Minister of Magic?" challenges Harry in a hushed whisper.
Taking a deep breath, Harry calms himself down.
"Fenrir, you know everything about my life but tell me nothing about yours. If we're going to be together you have to share things with me so that we can work it out together. We're having a baby, for Merlin's sake. You don't hide things from me."
Unbeknownst to the wizard, he is subtly challenging the Alpha's authority with his rightful anger. Normally, this wouldn't be such a problem, but so close to a full moon, it isn't a good idea.
So, when Fenrir suddenly invades his personal space, Harry is shocked when his mate's blue eyes narrow into a deadly glare.
"I'm Alpha, you'll do as I say," begins the werewolf, his voice just above a threatening growl. "You'll know whatever I decide is right for you to know. You don't question me."
At Fenrir's statement, that leaves absolutely no room for argument, Harry does the exact opposite of what anyone else would, or could, do in his position. Emerald green eyes harden into their own glare and stare right back at the imposing alpha wolf.
"I'm not some pack member, I'm your mate," hisses out Harry, between clenched teeth. "You don't seem to get that and you're the werewolf, how's that for irony?"
Everything within the werewolf is clamoring for him to assert his dominance over the other male, yet simultaneously his instincts are urging him to calm his pregnant mate. Clenching his hands into tight fists, Fenrir is able to hold back his rage—barely.
"Harry, I'm not going to slack on my responsibilities as Alpha just because I knocked you up! I have to think about more than just our family!"
A look of hurt flashes across the wizard's face, before it is replaced with renewed anger. Green eyes narrow and focus on Fenrir, completely ignoring any one else in the room. However, by this point in their argument, all the wizards and witches around them are completely silent as they listen in on the lover's spat. Varying looks of shock are displayed as everyone learns that Harry Potter and Fenrir Greyback are in a relationship and expecting a baby. However, the wizard and the werewolf are far to engrossed in their discussion to notice or care.
"I'm not even sure you know what a real family is Fenrir. The baby and I are just two more people you have to take care of in your mind. You don't let us in. I'm supposed to be your mate but you don't let me take care of you. You don't let me help you. You just expect me to go along with whatever you say. I'm not that type of person and you of all people should know that!"
Taking a deep breath, Harry glares up at Fenrir. His face looks conflicted, caught between anger and something else that the werewolf can't quite identify.
"Look I told you before, I can raise this baby on my own if I need to. The two of us will be just fine, without you."
Sensing Harry's distress, Fenrir moves closer to soothe his mate. The wolf instantly regretting everything that has passed through his lips in the last few minutes.
"Harry, you don't mea—"
"I mean every word of it, Fenrir!" snaps the wizard moving out of the werewolf's reach. "Don't follow me!"
With that, Harry Potter storms out through the crowd(which parts for the Head Auror) and heads towards the Floo Network. Frozen in shock, the werewolf doesn't even notice that their spat has gotten the attention of all the people around them, including a few reporter-wizards for the Daily Prophet.
But even as cameras flash around him, all Fenrir can focus on is the growing ache caused by the rejection of his pregnant mate.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Sorry to end it here! However, the next chapter won't take nearly as long to post, I promise!
Thanks for reading!
RENKA