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.
I don't want to take up too much of your time here with this note, however I will warn you that there are some "angsty" moments in this chapter. All I ask is that you trust me with the direction of the story. Also, I did a very quick edit of this, but I'll go over it again when I have more time. I just really didn't want to delay the chapter any more than I have.
ENJOY!
CHAPTER NINE - The Aftermath
THE DAILY PROPHET - SPECIAL EDITION
Harry Potter, Head Auror of the Ministry of Magic and the Saviour of the Wizarding World, is PREGNANT!
It has been confirmed that Harry James Potter, "The Boy Who Lived", is carrying the child of Fenrir Greyback! The story broke last night at a Ministry function celebrating the completion of the first comprehensive map of the Forbidden Forest—an effort achieved by Greyback and his fellow werewolves along with a hand-selected team of aurors. It is speculated that through this endeavor is how Mr. Potter and Greyback first came into contact.
Witnesses at the banquet claim that Harry Potter's pregnancy came to light during a public "lover's spat" between Mr. Potter and Greyback. The couple seemed to be completely oblivious to their audience as they carried on. Not only did they divulge that they are expecting a child, the two men are in fact mated(an equivalent to marriage among werewolves). The fight was brief, ending once Mr. Potter apparated(which is only to be done sparingly when one is pregnant) to an undisclosed location. Since that disagreement, neither Mr. Potter nor Greyback have been spotted in public.
Healers at Saint Mungo's* have established that while male pregnancies are already extremely rare phenomena within the Wizarding community, it is even a more extraordinary development between a wizard and a magical creature.
(*At this point in time, it is unsure as to whether or not Mr. Potter has sought treatment at the Wizarding Hospital during the stages of his pregnancy.)
And due to the Head Auror's use of a rather high-level glamour charm, it is near impossible to tell how far along his pregnancy has progressed, never mind when the baby is due.
As to be expected, the Wizarding public is divided on this issue. Devout supporters of Mr. Potter eagerly await to celebrate the birth of the child while others are anxious of what this will mean for the young Head Auror. Rumors of a forced resignation are already being whispered among the Ministry, yet Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt has claimed that there is no truth to these allegations in a statement released this morning:
"Harry Potter is an essential asset to the Ministry of Magic. His work as Head Auror has not only made for a more efficient Auror Department, but a far more productive one. It is due to his extensive knowledge of Defense Against the Dark Arts and his diligence that nearly all of the Dark Lord's supporters are locked away in Azkaban and off the streets. Harry's personal choices are just that—personal and they have no bearing on his continued career at the Ministry of Magic as Head Auror. I stand by my choice to appoint Harry to his position now more than ever."
While many share Minister Shacklebolt's opinion of Harry Potter, public opinion of Fenrir Greyback isn't as favorable. There are even some parties that are convinced that the secrecy surrounding Harry Potter's pregnancy suggests that it was not a consensual union between the two men. And even more extreme parties of the Ministry of Magic, such as the Magical Children Protection Agency(M.C.P.A.)—whose individual members don't wish to be named at this time, believe that the child should be taken away from the influence of Fenrir Greyback immediately:
"The unborn child of this monster, is still an innocent member of Wizarding society. In the best interest of the child, it should be removed from the care of such an irresponsible wizard and infamously vicious werewolf. Fenrir Greyback has a well-recorded and undeniable history of biting the children from powerful wizarding families, who knows what atrocities he will do to his own child? Not to mention, that it is still debatable as to whether or not Harry Potter is of sound mind if he is in fact Greyback's willing mate and carrier of this criminal's offspring. Pending a intensive review by the M.C.P.A., it is yet to be determined if either parent is fit to raise this child into a proper witch or wizard."
(*At the time of this article no formal complaint has been made nor has any official investigation been launched pertaining to this particular case.)
Considering the fact that this case revolves around the relationship between a wizard and magical creature, i.e. a werewolf, the Head of the Department of Magical Creatures(and close friend of Harry Potter), Hermione Granger-Weasley was also contacted for comment. Mrs. Granger-Weasley submitted this statement:
"The pregnancy of Harry Potter, like any pregnancy, is a private matter between the expectant parents. Harry only kept it a secret, employing the use of glamour charms, to protect his unborn child from public scrutiny. There is nothing shameful about the relationship between Harry and Fenrir. They love their child and they did what they thought is necessary to protect their baby. I know that their child will be in perfectly competent hands and no matter what outcome, they will continue to have the full support of myself and this department behind them."
The pregnancy of Harry Potter is on the lips of every wizard and witch for one reason or another. And despite any one wizard's or witch's opinion, the Potter-Greyback baby will be one of the most talked about children since "The Boy Who Lived" himself first graced our pages.
[Both Harry Potter and Fenrir Greyback were unreachable for comment at the time this article was written.]
"They want to take my baby away?!" asks Harry with a horrified expression on his face. The wizard unable to focus on any other part of the article. "I never even thought that was a possibility."
As the auror trails off at that disturbing thought, he sits in the spacious office of the Minister of Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt. The pregnant wizard is resting on the couch lining one side of the office with the recent edition of the Daily Prophet clutched in his hands. Surrounding him are Ron and Hermione, both of which are clearly concerned for their best friend. Then again, Harry has paled considerably since he started reading the newspaper article emblazoned upon the front page of the Wizarding newspaper.
"Harry, mate, I'm sure it's not as bad all that," soothes Ron, trying to keep the Head Auror calm. "Besides, we won't let anyone take your son away from you. Honest."
"Ron's absolutely right. Anyone with any bit of sense knows that you will be an excellent parent."
Despite Ron and Hermione's reassurances, Harry ignores them as he focuses on another part of the article—the section that focuses on the conception of their child. Re-reading it, a look of disgust settles into the wizard's forest-green eyes.
"After all that he's done in the Forbidden Forest, they're making Fenrir out to be some monster that took advantage of me. That isn't what happened at all! Fenrir can be a stubborn ass sometimes, but he would never do something like that. He isn't some evil beast that needs to be hunted down with, with . . . torches and pitchforks or something!"
The wizard can't help the tremor of fear that wracks his body as he thinks about what could possibly happen to Fenrir from the pure conjecture masquerading as journalism. After all, it is only in recent years that the man has attempted to make amends for the crimes he committed in his past. There are still plenty in the wizarding community that wouldn't bat an eyelash if Fenrir was locked away in Askaban for the rest of his days.
Contemplating what could happen to his budding family, Harry is unprepared for the multitude of emotions that bombards his thoughts. He may be currently pissed off at the man, but Harry still has strong feelings for the father of his baby. And as much as he'd like to blame it completely on his over-sensitized hormones, the wizard knows his panic is from his own insecurities. After all, what if the public backlash from their exposed relationship only highlights to Fenrir why the two of them shouldn't be together? What if the werewolf decides that being with Harry just isn't worth it?
"Harry, you're working yourself up over nothing. This is just an article, nothing more. The Daily Prophet is just trying to sell newspapers with sensationalism," offers Hermione, resting a comforting hand on her friend's trembling shoulders. "You need to calm down, it's not good to stress yourself out in your condition."
"But there's truth to this, Hermione!" argues the Head Auror, pointing at the article. "We all know that some of the ministers would do it, the ones that still distrust Fenrir for what he did during the war. They'd take away our baby the second he's born and then lock Fenrir up in Azkaban! I know it!"
As Harry starts going off, his hands protectively cover his now-noticeable baby bump. Since he and Fenrir outed themselves as an expecting couple, the wizard has stopped using a glamour charm to hide their growing child. Watching her friend retreat inward, Hermione turns to Minister Kingsley with a pleading look on her face.
"Minister, please assure Harry that the Ministry of Magic cannot take his baby away. The last thing he needs is to work himself into a fit."
At the request, Kingsley looks away from Hermione's gaze with an unreadable look on his dark features.
"Minster, they can't take Harry's baby away, can they?" presses the witch, a bit unnerved by the silence coming from the man before them.
Unbeknownst to the other occupants in his office, the promise that Shacklebolt made to Fenrir a few months ago in the exact same room comes right to the forefront of the elder man's mind. The Minster of Magic is more than aware that if the wizards they represent demand it, the Ministry could separate Harry and Fenrir. However, he would make certain that Harry would remain with his child no matter what. The man has already looked up any course of action the Ministry could possibly take to forcibly remove the baby from Harry's custody as a precaution. And thankfully, the new laws protecting magical creatures and their families(some of which were drafted by Hermione herself) are already working in the young wizard's favor.
"Not without good reason and only after they've launched a thorough, Ministry-approved investigation," admits Kingsley finally, before turning to the panicking auror. "Harry, I promise you that your baby will not be taken from you. However, I can't say that there aren't some people that won't do their damnedest to try."
"Thank you Kingsley. But I don't care what happens, no one's taking my baby! That's fina—AAHH!"
A sharp pain in Harry's side makes him stop mid-sentence. Curling into himself, the wizard starts taking deep breaths as his hand starts to rub small circles over his side where the pain seems to be radiating from. Immediately everyone in the room is on their feet as they make their way over to the pregnant auror.
"Harry, what's wrong?!" asks Ron, his widened eyes instantly sweeping over his friend's form.
"I-it's nothing. I've had these pains before. It'll—ah!—pass," winces out Harry between the painful cramps wracking his abdomen.
"This has happened before?! Did you tell the Healers at Saint Mungo's about this?"
Avoiding the concerned yet chastising gaze of the Minister of Magic, Harry stretches back on the couch. His eyes scrunch shut as another pain seems to wrack through his body.
"N-no, it's just cram—OW!"
"That's it, we're going to Saint Mungo's right now," declares the Hermione, before turning to her husband. "Ron, you help Harry, I'll get his things together."
"Got it, 'Mione."
The denizens of Hogmeade collectively shiver as a piercing howl rips through the still night air. All the residents know that the howl belongs to their neighboring werewolf, so they keep their distance far from the outlying forests. Yet the resounding loneliness that taints the ominous call, has all of Hogsmeade wondering about the cause of the wolf's pain.
Ending his howling, the alpha werewolf continues plodding through the fresh fallen snow of the forest. The canine, tired from his hunt, listlessly makes his way to the familiar cottage that stands alone—a stark contrast to the woods around it. Entering through the open door, the wolf whines at the missing scent of his pregnant mate.
Harry would usually be waiting up for the werewolf after his monthly transformations, his soothing presence alone would lull the canine into a watchful sleep. Then again, the ear scratches that his wizard gave him didn't hurt either.
But since their "lover's tiff" at the Ministry of Magic, Fenrir has not seen or heard anything from Harry. Not that he would ever admit it, but the werewolf finds himself quickly longing for the sight of dark unruly hair and deep, forest-green eyes.
Still transformed under the influence of the full moon, the wolf side of Fenrir can't understand why his mate, heavy with their unborn cub, isn't under his watch. The werewolf sniffs about the empty cottage, searching for any trail that will lead to Harry. Following his nose, the large canine finds a red and gold scarf, the wool fabric seeming to have trapped the scent of the wizard. And although the cottage still has lingering traces of the wizard, Fenrir is unable to find any further trail of his mate's scent to track. The alpha growls in frustration at this conclusion before flopping onto the bed in defeat. The wolf's only consolation, is to bury his nose into Harry's Gryffindor house scarf as he tries to get some sleep.
When Fenrir awakens the next morning, after a rough night's sleep, the man is a bit surprised to find himself sleeping with Harry's scarf. The wizard's trademark accessory makes a smirk cross his features as he remembers the last time the wizard had worn it—long story short, it had led to a rather intense session of mind-blowing sex. However the fond memory fades once he remembers that his mate is not there. Guilt once again settles on his mind as the man intrinsically knows that the only reason that Harry isn't there in their bed is his own doing. Grumbling to himself, Fenrir rolls over and attempts to return to sleep.
The man's rest is short-lived as he is awoken by the sound of a soft, incessant coo. Turning over, sharp blue eyes land on the form of a large barn owl sitting on the end of the bed. The bird no doubt flew in from one of the open windows of the cottage. Large gold eyes stare expectantly at the imposing form of Fenrir Greyback.
"Get the fuck out of here," growls out the werewolf, raking a hand through his grey-streaked hair.
Ignoring the man's temperament, the snow white bird simply nudges over the letter that it has been sent to deliver. The owl than hoots again to regain the man's attention. Eyeing the parchment envelope with his name hastily scribbled onto it, Fenrir's gaze narrows into a glare.
"If this is a Howler, you're gonna be my breakfast, bird."
The owl simply cocks its head in curiosity at the werewolf. Snatching up the letter, the man rips it open. Thankfully, it isn't another Howler, but the man is still blown away by the few sentences on the folded paper. In a quick scribble, the letter simply reads:
Greyback,
Harry's in the hospital. You better get your furry ass over here the second you get this letter.
- Ron Weasley.
P.S. Don't eat the owl, it's a loaner from Saint Mungo's.
In a flash, Fenrir gets out of the bed, dislodging the barn owl who flies off the way it came. Throwing on his worn leather jacket and a pair of boots the werewolf apparates immediately to Saint Mungo's. After some quick directions from a thoroughly-intimidated apprentice Healer, the imposing man finds Hermione and Ron outside of a private hospital room talking to Healer Merriweather. The normally cheerful medi-witch has a serious expression on her face as she speaks to the young couple before her.
". . . All in all, Mr. Potter should be okay. He'll just have to take it easy for a while."
"What happened to Harry?"
Looking to the man, the two women are surprised by Fenrir's sudden appearance. Ron simply regards him, looking the man square in the eye.
"Harry was having some pains so we brought him here to make sure that everything's okay," explains the red-head. "He's resting right now, so you'll have to wait to see him."
"Fuck that. My mate is hurt. Do you really want to stand in my way, Weasley?"
Fenrir Greyback is intimidating on a normal basis, so when he is properly agitated it is quite an imposing sight. Every muscle in the werewolf's body tenses as his expression hardens. The man's eyes intensify into an piercing stare that strips people bare, it is downright unnerving. However, Ron manages to hold his ground, matching the glare of Fenrir Greyback with the one he inherited from Molly Weasley.
"If I have to. Harry's my best mate, you're not the only one that cares about him or the baby, you know. I sent that owl because, for a reason beyond my understanding, he needs you to be here with him. Don't make me regret it."
For a moment, complete silence passes between the two men. Then out of nowhere, the werewolf's eyebrow arches as a new level of respect for Ronald Weasley forms.
"I get it. Thanks for taking care of the pup for me," offers Fenrir, thoroughly surprising the trio outside Harry's room.
However, the alpha werewolf ignores their shocked reactions as he enters the private hospital room. Once the door opens, Fenrir finds Harry lying on his side. A sense of relief passes through him as his eyes finally rest on his young mate. Unfortunately, it is quickly replaced with concern as his gaze sweeps over the slim figure for any injury. The wizard appears to be almost cocooned in a massive amount of pillows to cushion his body as he rests in the hospital bed. Lying there, his back to the door and clothed in the thin hospital gown, Harry looks so small and almost fragile. The werewolf freezes as the faint scent of tears reaches his nose. With a deep breath, Fenrir steels himself for whatever it is that has afflicted his pregnant wizard.
"Hey Pup."
At the familiar rumble of his alpha's voice, Harry can't hold back the relieved smile that crosses his face. The wizard was sure that their public argument would have kept the werewolf far away from him. Although, remembering that he is still upset with Fenrir, Harry schools his features. His hands lift up his trademark glasses in order to quickly wipe away the lingering tears. Once he's satisfied that he is somewhat composed, the auror twists his neck to look over his shoulder.
"Fenrir?" whispers Harry, taking in the sight of the rugged man that he chose to be his mate. "How did you know I was here?"
The second that the green eyes(slightly red from crying) settle on the werewolf, Fenrir has to forcibly stop himself from taking the wizard into his arms. If anyone else had put that expression on his mate's face, the alpha wolf is sure that he would have ripped the bastard to shreds. He settles for simply crossing the room so that he can speak to the auror without such a distance between them.
"Your friend sent an owl," mutters Fenrir, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "I came as soon as I got it."
"Oh, Hermione, right?"
"No, the other one."
"Ron told you I was here?" asks Harry incredulously.
"Apparently, he thought I should be here."
A moment of tense silence passes between the two of them. It is interrupted when Fenrir takes a step closer.
"What happened, pup?"
At the question, Harry doesn't turn his body to face the man. However his shoulders tense up.
"Nothing happened, I'm perfectly fine," whispers out the auror.
"And the cub? Is he alright?"
Harry takes a deep breath, but says nothing as he bites his lower lip. Sensing that something is wrong, Fenrir's gaze stays on the wizard.
"Harry—"
"There is no more cub!," blurts out the wizard, his voice raw from crying.
At the words, Fenrir stops in his tracks. Frozen by shock, the werewolf can barely get his thoughts in order.
"What do you mea—"
"I-It was a high-risk pregnancy already," explains the wizard as his eyes avoid Fenrir's stare. Harry pulls the sheets tighter around himself as he speaks. "Healer Merriweather said that it was a miracle that I managed to carry him this far. It's no one's fault, really."
The scent of fresh tears fuels the man to take yet another step closer. Fenrir is unsure how to react to this revelation. After all, the man never excelled at anything having to do with emotions, never mind comforting someone else. His inner wolf wants to howl in sadness at the loss of their unborn cub yet he is aching to curl around his distraught mate. But considering the fragile state of their relationship at the moment, Fenrir isn't sure if his efforts would even be welcomed.
"Since we've been apart, I've been thinking. Mostly about us," begins Harry, instantly gaining the werewolf's attention. "The baby was the only good reason that we were together. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, I wouldn't have went to see you in Hogsmeade and we woudn't have become mates. I mean, it was spectacular, but we were fooling ourselves. A wizard and a werewolf is difficult enough, but the two of us, Harry Potter and Fenrir Greyback? It wasn't the brightest idea to start a relationship, on either of our parts."
The werewolf gets anxious the more he listens to the words pouring out of the wizard's mouth.
"I don't believe that," starts Fenrir. "And you can say whatever shite you like, but I know you don't believe that either."
For a second, Harry seems to lose his resolve as piercing blue eyes stare into his own viridian ones. Looking away, the wizard's gaze shifts to his hands.
"We aren't meant to be together, that's all," the auror argues weakly, his hands gripping the thin hospital sheets in a vice grip. "Just go back to your pack, Fenrir."
"I'm not goin' anywhere. You are my mate, Harry! That means I take care of you."
The conviction in Fenrir's voice has Harry's determination wavering. Part of the wizard wants to let the werewolf take care of him and forget everything that's happened in the last few days. However, another(stronger) part of him knows that as tempting as that option is, it won't solve anything between them.
"Just get out, Fenrir."
The tone of the wizard's voice isn't one that the werewolf is used to from the Gryffindor. It is exhausted, like Harry, "The Boy Who Lived" and the "Saviour of the Wizarding World", has given up on something. Then and there, Fenrir decides instantly that he doesn't like it.
"No, I ain't leavin'."
"Get out or I'll make you get out, Fenrir!" shouts the wizard, finally turning his head to once again lock gazes with the werewolf. "I mean it!"
At that outburst, the two men lock eyes, equally stubborn and at an impasse—although Harry looks as if he's about to cry any minute now. Whatever is it that is holding the wizard together is threatening to break apart. Seeing that look, and knowing that he is the cause of it, makes something long-ignored in the werewolf cave in.
"You want me to leave that badly, eh?"
" . . . Please?"
Taking a deep breath, Fenrir releases Harry from his intense gaze.
"Alright, I'll leave. But don't go thinkin' that you've gotten rid of me completely, pup. I'll be back."
"I know," replies Harry, his deep forest eyes softening— a silent thank you to Fenrir for granting his request.
Leaving Harry to his rest, the man steps out of the private hospital suite. Ron and Hermione instantly focus on him, curious of what transpired between the two mates. The red-head is the first to reach the still-shocked Fenrir.
"Greyback, what happened?"
"Nothin', Harry needs his rest is all," answers the werewolf. "He's takin' everythin' pretty well, considerin'."
Thinking over the conversation, Fenrir feels a fresh surge of guilt hit him.
"Shite! I should've protected him and our cub better!" grumbles out the man as he runs a hand through his grey-streaked hair. "I fuckin' deserve whatever the pup wants to dish out at me! I let him and our cub down."
"I'm sure that Harry didn't mean whatever he said," provides Hermione, thrown off by the man's self-depreciating words. " He's just really delicate right now. Healer Merriweather said that he has to take it easy. Not to mention his hormones are still going to be out of sorts for a while."
"Yeah, I got that," grumbles out Fenrir as he turns to walk away.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
At the redhaired wizard's question, Fenrir stops in his tracks.
"Harry asked me to leave, so I'm goin'. I'm not gonna be responsible for upsettin' him further. I'll be back though."
As the man leaves the wing, Ron and Hermione stare after him, confused by the werewolf's actions. Then again, Fenrir is confused by his own actions as well. For once, the alpha wolf doesn't know what to do to correct the situation. There was no enemy he could tear to shreds and no way to bring back their son—the child that Fenrir had never planned on having, yet he had been looking forward to holding in his arms for the past seven months. The notorious werewolf is heartbroken over his lost cub, yet what eats away at him the most is that he wasn't there when his mate needed him most.
All in all, a fine mate Fenrir Greyback was turning out to be.
Later that day, Fenrir returns to the halls of the wizarding hospital with a semblance of a plan. The large man had spent most of that afternoon clearing out the cottage of anything associated with their lost baby. Fenrir didn't want anything upsetting the young wizard when he took him home from Saint Mungo's. His only concern is to make up for all that he had put Harry through.
Healer Merriweather happens to be passing by the room and sees Fenrir approaching. With a confused expression to her face, she walks over to the werewolf.
"Oh, Mr. Greyback, is there something wrong?"
"No, just here to take the pup home."
A look of surprise, crosses over the woman's face. Her permanent smile falters a bit as she subconsciously takes a step back from the imposing werewolf.
"But Mr. Potter left this afternoon after his test results came back. I processed the paperwork myself."
Luna Lovegood has always been what many wizards would call a peculiar witch. In fact, it is a badge that the blonde woman wore proudly, in her own irreverent way. In the years since the Second Great Wizarding War, Luna has become a world-renown wizarding naturalist. Her research and pursuit of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack has led her to Ireland, the land of leprechauns, banshees, and other magical creatures of Celtic legend.
The witch rents a quaint cottage that lies in the valley of sprawling emerald green hillsides. It is quite picturesque, especially in the early morning when the low fog casts a mystical aura on the land. She is friendly with the local muggle townsfolk, yet keeps to herself with few visitors. The only regular contact that Luna has with the magical world is through the occasional owl that flies in through her kitchen window.
Which, is why the pale witch is surprised to find a rather depressed looking Harry Potter on her front porch. The Head Auror simply fiddles with the ends of his robes, not noticing that he has been discovered.
"Harry?! What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"
Looking up at his friend, Harry reveals his tear-filled eyes.
"Luna, I'm sorry. I should've sent an owl, first. But I just had to leave. I had to get away."
Concern lights the witch's face as she hears the broken quality of the auror's voice. Even in the final years of the war, Harry never sounded as depressed as he did now.
"It's alright. You're always more than welcome to visit me Harry. We're friends. What's wrong?"
"I just needed to get as far away from The Daily Prophet, from the Ministry, and even from Fenrir as I could get."
"Ah, your mate," confirms Luna, recalling the contents of the many letters that Harry has sent her over the past few months. "What did he do?"
"Nothing like the Prophet has accused him of, that's for sure," Harry insists as he runs a hand through his dark, unruly hair. "It's just that, I need to time to properly think things over. And I can't think properly when I'm with him."
"What do you need to think about?"
"Our future I guess. Fenrir is everything to me, yet the only reason we're even together is because I got pregnant. It's not like it makes sense for the two of us to be a couple. As much as it hurts to admit, I think he's just holding on to me because he thinks he should, out of his own sense of pride or some weird werewolf obligation. He sees me as someone he has to take care of, not like a true mate. Whatever that means."
"Oh Harry, that can't be true. I mean, in your letters you've never sounded happier."
"That's just it Luna. I was happy because I was living in a dream world. A world where I could just be Harry, live my life and not care what other people thought. But I don't get to have that. Ever since I met Fenrir in that pub, I've been living out a fantasy. I guess I'm just waking up from it. And as much as neither of us want to care, our identities matter. It matters that I'm a famous wizard and it matters that Fenrir is an infamous werewolf. The article in The Daily Prophet just proves it."
Luna is a bit confused by Harry's ramblings, yet she can recognize a cry for help when she hears one. Placing a hand on the wizard's shoulder she offers him a comforting smile.
"Come on inside Harry. It's getting cold out here. I have some lovely potato soup that I can heat up for you. Everything looks better after you've eaten, although I suppose it depends on what you eat. I mean if it was something disgusting than I'm sure that it would only make your mood worse."
At Luna's nonsensical, yet familair rambling, Harry can't help but smile.
"Alright. Err, can I have a hand?"
Smiling down at her friend, Luna beams.
"Of course."
With the offered hand, Harry pulls himself up. The bulge of his pregnant stomach makes it a bit harder than it used to be to stand up. But the wizard manages, with help from Luna, and follows the witch into her small house.
It has been three weeks since Fenrir last saw Harry. The werewolf, finished his contract with the Ministry of Magic, has returned to his pack to regroup. Then, almost immediately, he left to start his assignment in Alaska leaving Derrick and Scarlett to look after things. Despite his initial rage at the additional task, it is actually a blessing in disguise for the alpha wolf. At least he no longer has to torture himself with living in the cottage he shared with his green-eyed wizard(the place they planned to raise their son) or be around the growing cubs of his own pack.
Covering up his emotions, Fenrir focuses on tracking down the rogue werewolf terrorizing the local muggles. The alpha wolf is accompanied only by his brother, Mason(the other alpha wolf is the only one willing to accompany a pissed of Fenrir).
In the Alaskan wilderness, the two werewolves move through the dense forests in weighted silence. The stark white of the snow only punctuated by the dark trunks of barren trees. A cold breeze blows about, distorting the scent of the rogue wolf that the two brothers are currently tracking. After a few hours of this, Mason is the first to break the heavy silence.
"So, is this how you're going to be for the foreseeable future, Fenrir?"
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Mason."
"Jesus Christ, who would've thought the great Fenrir Greyback would be reduced to a fuckin' shell of himself by some wizard?" comments the blonde as he shakes his head. "It's pathetic."
Mason is suddenly tackled by Fenrir, the larger man slamming his body to the frozen ground with a spray of powdery snow. After some rolling around, Fenrir manages to pin his brother and straddles the leaner man. The irritated wolf growls low in his throat as he glares down at the other alpha.
"You don't know shite about me or my mate!"
Mason scoffs at that, and shoots his brother a look of disgust.
"I know that instead of mopin' around like some kicked pup you should go find your precious wizard. If you miss him so much, go reclaim him."
At the words, Fenrir's anger eases slightly. His blind rage morphs into guilt and he loosens his grip on his brother.
"He made is perfectly clear that he doesn't want to see me. The pup left and I don't blame him. It's my fault we lost our cub. Least I can do is respect his space."
For an immeasurable stretch of time, both men are silent as they think of the lost cub. No werewolf, no matter how strong, handled the passing of unborn cubs well.
"You lost your cub, I'm sorry about that," replies Mason, his voice matching Fenrir's with sadness as he thinks about the lost baby. "I was looking forward to meeting my nephew. Now, I'm not saying that the two of you don't need time to grieve. But, the wizard is still your mate, he still has your mark. Find him and make it right."
An incredulous look appears on Fenrir's face as he looks down at his brother.
"I thought you didn't like wizards."
"I don't, for the most part. But that mate of yours, he grew on me. Besides, with him around, you were somewhat tolerable. Now, will you get offa me! We still got a rouge werewolf to find and you aren't exactly a lightweight."
"Yeah, yeah," agrees the older wolf as he gets off, much to Mason's relief. "Let's finish this, I have a pack to get back to."
"And then a mate to locate, right?"
". . . Yeah."
With that, the two wolves restart their trek through the snow covered forests. Now that the tension between them has eased up a bit, Fenrir and Mason travel through the woods as a cohesive unit. In fact, it takes little time before they are hot on the trail of the rouge wolf they have been hunting for most of the day.
Harry yawns widely from his seat at the round wooden table in Luna's kitchen. The Irish sun shines through an open window as the sounds of chirping birds waft through. The witch herself is busy preparing a potion on the stove as the wizard watches. Rubbing a hand over his swollen stomach, a sudden soft kick to his hand, takes Harry by surprise.
"You're active today, little guy."
"The baby's moving again?" Luna asks with an excited smile. Dropping what she's doing, her hand touches her friend's belly. "Wow, he's really kicking."
"Yes, he's always active in the morning and late at night. During full moons, he's completely restless. That he gets from his father."
Noticing Harry's slight hesitation to say Fenrir's name, Luna knows that it is time to start the conversation that the two friends have been avoiding for the last few weeks.
"Harry, you still haven't told me why you left him."
"I don't really want to talk about it, Luna."
"Harry, as much as I enjoy having you here, you can't hide out here forever. Ron and Hermione are worried about you and so is the rest of the wizarding world. And I'm sure that Fenrir is worried too."
At the mention of his mate, Harry can't stave off the crushing guilt that hits him. After all, he had just left without telling the man where he went. Not to mention the unforgivable lie that he had told the man to get some space. As possessive as Fenrir is, Harry knows that not knowing where his mate is must be driving the werewolf mad.
"I know, and I'm not planning to stay here forever. I still have a job at the Ministry to do and I have some things to get in order."
"Harry, you are avoiding the question."
At the silence that greets her, the witch hands Harry a glass of the potion she has been brewing. It is a pale green color yet has a scent that reminds the wizard of cinnamon.
"Here, the nutrient potion is ready. Drink up."
"Thanks, Luna. You didn't have to make this for me."
"I made it for my nephew in there. Just because you refuse to take proper care of yourself doesn't mean that he has to suffer. Your son needs his father, and so do you."
Harry takes a deep sigh as he thinks over Luna's words. The witch has always had a peculiar intelligence that has always managed to catch Harry by complete surprise. Taking a sip of the potion, surprised by the slight spiciness of it, the wizard turns to face the concerned, yet expectant eyes of Luna Lovegood.
"I left Fenrir, before he left me, alright? I mean, it was only a matter of time really, and I don't think that I could handle being abandoned—not with a baby on the way, at least. Besides, I was holding him back. Fenrir isn't the type of man that should be tied down with a wizard for a mate and a baby on the way. For Merlin's sake, he's practically the Lord of all werewolves! He should be with his pack. That's where his heart is anyway."
"Are you sure of that?" asks Luna, tilting her head innocently.
"To be honest, I'm not sure of anything with Fenrir."
"But Harry, you love him."
At the statement, Harry's hand absently starts to rub his belly. Feeling his and Fenrir's child move in response, shifting within him, makes him smile. The wizard has always wanted to have the family that he never had as a child, to be surrounded by people he loved and be loved in return. And though he never thought that he'd create it with the werewolf Fenrir Greyback, he has never been happier. The man may be brash, intimidating, and a bit rough around the edges, however Fenrir has always been honest with Harry. He has always treated the wizard like a person, with flaws and desires, not like a symbol. Around the werewolf, he can just be Harry, he doesn't have to have all the answers and can depend on someone else for a change. The Head Auror found himself relaxing around Fenrir in a way he only felt comfortable doing around Ron and Hermione.
Harry has known for quite some time that he has become completely infatuated with Fenrir, in a way he never felt about Cho Chang or Ginny Weasley. And while it scared him a bit at first, to feel something so deeply for someone, he has accepted his feelings. The wizard wants to be with the werewolf, but he knows that there are serious issues between the two of them. And while Harry is open to working through those issues, he isn't so sure that his other half is.
"Love isn't always enough to keep people together, Luna," Harry replies after a while. "We're just too different, that's all."
"Harry, of course love is enough to keep two people together. That is the point, isn't it?"
At those words, Harry looks down at his swollen belly that houses the embodiment of his feelings for the werewolf. Watching his gaze shift, Luna softens her expression.
"Fenrir Greyback is the father of your baby, that is never going to change. Eventually, you are going to have to face him. Granted, Fenrir is rather intimidating, but you're a Gryffindor, aren't you? You don't run from anything, right? Especially not from the man that you love. At the very least, for your baby, you have to find out if there is still anything between you two."
For a moment, Harry is completely taken aback by the insight offered by the odd witch.
"Thank you, Luna."
"For what?" the blonde woman asks, honestly confused.
"For reminding me why you're such a good friend."
At that, the two friends share a smile.
"Alright, so what would you like for breakfast, Harry? It's about time I feed you."
"I'm up for anything that has chocolate and meat," the pregnant wizard replies, earning a wide eyed stare from Luna. "It's all this baby wants to eat, apparently."
For a second, Harry is afraid that the witch will find his pregnancy craving odd, even by her standards. However, he is surprised when Luna simply pulls out a box of chocolate frogs and then reaches into the fridge for some wrapped meat to cook.
"I've always wanted to try chocolate-covered meat, but no one else has wanted to eat it!" exclaims the blonde witch as she reaches for a cooking pan. "Now do you prefer bacon or sausage?"
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
I hoped you enjoyed this installment! By the way, the next chapter will be the last one.
Later days!