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 apologize for the supreme lateness of this update, but I was dealing with some things in my personal life. Things aren't 100% yet(I doubt they will be soon) but I wanted to post this before I go on a much-needed family vacation. I apologize for any mistakes, I will fix them when I return home in November.
In response to the comments after the last chapter, I only ask that you all withhold judgement on Harry and his actions, specifically for telling Fenrir that he had a miscarriage. Was it the right thing for Harry to do? No, but everyone makes mistakes. Especially when they are in a highly emotional state of mind such as a high-profile pregnancy. If you still disagree with Harry's actions after the end of this story, I understand. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. And just because I wrote this story adaptation, it doesn't mean I agree with everything that occurs within it.
ANYWAY, as you all know, this was supposed to be the final chapter of this story, but it is waaay too much to submit as one chapter(approximately a 33-page MS Word document, single spaced with 12pt font) so it has been broken up into two parts.
That being said, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
CHAPTER TEN - Returning Home
The Russian Taiga is an unforgiving environment, especially as the harsh winter steadily creeps its way onto the land. Thick woods are blanketed with the first heavy snow as strong gusts flow through the trees. A stark, yet crystalline landscape, the wilderness of the taiga is beautiful in its own way. However, literally getting lost in the beauty of the land can equate to a death sentence for the inexperienced.
But, for Fenrir Greyback, the unforgiving landscape is about as dangerous as a fenced-in backyard. The open wilderness is his element, where the alpha werewolf truly feels alive.
Snowflakes begin to fall around the man as he takes in the familiar territory of his pack. And as much as he has missed the taiga, his piercing blue eyes can't help but dull a bit. Fenrir had hoped that when he finally returned to his pack, it would be with his mate and cub at his side.
Taking a deep breath, in a futile attempt to clear his mind of the issues in his personal life, Fenrir can't help the smile that comes to his lips. The alpha takes in a deep breath, satisfied that he can still detect his own familiar scent markers that outline his pack's territory. The clean scent of the late autumn air combined with the needles of Siberian pine trees tease his senses as he plods through the deep snow. Nearing his pack's settlement, his eyes take notice of the claw marks that he himself has gouged into the rough bark of the evergreen trees.
The tingle of magic that passes through his body as he passes through the powerful wards, welcomes him first. Fenrir enters the rustic village with little fanfare, the alpha silently observing the state of his pack. It has been too long since he has been with them, yet the wolf is grounded by longing for his mate as he watches his werewolves with their families. Shaking it off, he tunes into the harmony of the pack as they prepare the communal dinner—a tradition that the alpha insisted upon no matter how large the pack grew. As he passes the members of his pack, Fenrir is given respectful greetings which he returns. They all can sense something is wrong with their alpha, yet know that it is not their place to comment upon it.
"Fenrir, welcome home!"
At the enthusiastic greeting, the werewolf turns to see Scarlett approaching him with Derrick right behind her. His betas are wearing welcoming smiles as they reach their alpha.
"How have things been here?"
"The pack is doing just great," reports Derrick. "Thanks to you, it practically runs itself, now."
"Yeah, and everyone's really excited to meet Harry and the cub," asks Scarlett. "When are they coming? I've been talking him up and everyone wants to see the wizard that has captured our alpha's attention."
"They aren't coming."
"Why? Is something wrong?"
Seeing the crestfallen look on the redhead's face, Fenrir runs a hand through his thick hair. This is one of the things he's been dreading the entire trip. Having to explain to his pack exactly how he failed his own mate and cub. Yet, even with the time to think since parting ways with his brother, the alpha still isn't ready to divulge everything that has happened.
"I fucked up with Harry, Scarlett," offers Fenrir as an explanation. "I ain't in the mood to talk about it. But, I will figure out how the hell to fix it."
The two beta wolves are thrown off by the peek inside Fenrir's thoughts. The intimidating man has never been one to discuss feelings, at least not without an incessant amount of prodding and pleading(although an obscene amount of alcohol didn't hurt either). Yet, it is evident on the man's face, that something has happened in the last few months. Both Scarlett and Derrick are at a loss for words as they watch Fenrir walk off towards his quarters.
"I don't like this, Derrick. Fenrir would never leave Harry by himself, at least not willingly. Why isn't he here with us?"
"I don't know. All I do know is that Fenrir is not gonna talk about it until he's ready. You know how our alpha is."
"Well then, get him ready to talk about it," replies Scarlett with an encouraging shove.
In his cabin, Fenrir crouches down to arrange kindling in the stone fireplace. Once he gets a small spark of flames going, his eyes look about his lodgings. The quarters aren't very personal since the werewolf has only thought of it as a place to sleep. Simple, yet sturdy wooden furniture fills the open space as the growing fire provides most of the light. The most personal items in the cabin are some pelts of animals he's killed with his own bare hands. Then again, the man isn't exactly an expert on interior design.
With his work alongside the Ministry over the last few years, Fenrir hasn't spent very long stretches of time with the pack. He has traveled the world visiting the other alphas and their packs under his protection as well as making damn sure that the Ministry kept up their end of the bargain. So, the alpha werewolf has been forced to run his own pack from afar, with Derrick and Scarlett acting as his proxies. It wasn't until Harry entered his life that the man had any particular place with an emotional attachment. The quaint cottage in Hogsmeade that he shared with the famous wizard is the only true home that the werewolf has ever had.
"You returned just in time."
Derrick's sudden entrance instantly drags Fenrir back from his wandering thoughts. He takes the time to feed a few logs to the growing flames before turning to face the other werewolf and reply to his statement.
"For what?"
"It's the full moon tonight, Fenrir. It's not like you to forget that."
"I got things on my mind, Derrick," grumbles out the elder man as he wipes his hands off on a nearby rag.
"Yeah, I got that. I think the entire pack is aware of how distracted you are."
Walking further into the room, the younger man brings out an unlabeled glass bottle that he has been hiding behind his back. Going to one of the cabinets, Derrick pulls out two glasses. Unscrewing the cap, he steadily begins pouring out a pair of shots.
"So, I thought that we could discuss it over a drink. Espen has been saving this batch just for you."
Fenrir raises an eyebrow in interest as he sees the bottle of handcrafted vodka in his beta's hands. Remembering the last time he tasted it, with Harry, the man smiles. The pup always was thoughtful, Fenrir couldn't think of the last time he did something so touching for Harry. In fact, in the weeks leading up their fight, he had been an insensitive bastard. So focused on his responsibilities to his packs, as well as to the impending deadline with the Ministry of Magic, he had neglected Harry.
Thinking on that, Fenrir can't blame Harry for wanting to push him away. The werewolf only hopes that it isn't too late and that his mate won't push him away any further.
"You don't have to worry about me," begins Fenrir, coming out of his thoughts once again.
"Well it's not just me, or Scarlett for that matter. The whole pack is concerned."
Taking the offered glass from his second in command, Fenrir takes a sip.
As he savors the smooth taste of the liquor, he thinks over what to say to that statement. It isn't like him to lie to the man across from him, but Fenrir decides not to disclose the loss of their cub to his beta just yet. Something telling him that he needs to talk with Harry once more, if the wizard would even let him.
"Harry is upset with me, so I gave him his space, is all," replies Fenrir, as he takes a seat. "I took the time to think things over and figure out exactly what I need to do to get my mate back. And as soon as I figure it out, I'm going to go claim him."
At those words, both Fenrir and Derrick take a deep sip from their glasses. The men then savor the taste for a moment, the crackling fire filling the absence of conversation for a few minutes.
"You and Harry, make an odd sort of sense."
At the statement, the alpha werewolf looks over his glass. Lifting an eyebrow, Fenrir wordlessly signals for Derrick to go on.
"Most people think that a werewolf and a wizard have nothing in common, but you and Harry are very similar. You both are impulsive to a fault and do things that would kill the rest of us, but for some reason, things always manage to work out for you. And when it comes to people that you both care about, I've never seen anyone as fierce as the two of you."
"You aren't tellin' me anythin' I don't already know, Derrick. Why do you think I was so eager to put my claim on him?"
"Good. Glad to hear it." remarks the man, running a hand over his buzzed head. "To be perfectly honest, I can't think of anyone else that could handle being your mate other than Harry Potter."
"That's probably true," agrees Fenrir with a small smirk.
"You know, I do think it'd be a shame if you two couldn't work this out. Scarlett told me that Harry once asked her how to be the best mate he could be for you. Not many wizards would make that effort."
"The pup doesn't have to do anything. He's fine the way he is."
Fenrir's statement, makes Derrick pause. Something in the elder man's voice has the beta wolf curious.
"Have you told him that?"
"He knows that," states Fenrir, finishing his drink.
"Well, maybe you need to remind him," tries Derrick, attempting to figure out exactly what happened to dissolve his alpha's relationship with his mate.
"C'mon Derrick. The moon will be risin' soon."
With that deflection, the two wolves make their way out to the open square in the center of the pack village. Men, women, and children of all ages and races look to their alpha. It has been some time since Fenrir has been with his pack during a full moon.
Experiencing the transformation with the rest of the pack is a bonding moment for all werewolves, like a group hunt. It reinforces the communal instincts that are a foundation of such a large and strong pack. Having their alpha with them, all the wolves feel centered, despite the rising anxiety of the approaching change.
As soon as the moonlight falls over the exposed pack, the werewolves begin to shift and change into their feral forms. Lycanthropy grips their bodies, forcing muscles and bone into a dramatic metamorphosis. The shifting pack members easily tear through human clothing as thick fur sprouts to cover and warm their bodies in its place. Soft feet and hands are replaced with rough pads as human faces elongate to fit sharp canine teeth. Groans of discomfort give way to the low whines as the moon finishes her work on the pack.
The shift is always a painful process, yet it is soothed somewhat by the familiar howl of their alpha to the full moon. Fenrir's hallowed call is slowly answered, one by one, by each member of the pack until every wolf is accounted for.
Once all his werewolves have successfully transformed, Fenrir's sharp eyes watch over his pack. Most of the newly transformed wolves are grey and brown, however a few black wolves stand out against the white snow. The younger members of the pack play enthusiastically with their peers while the mated wolves go to their families. The wizards and muggles of the Greyback pack that haven't transformed are greeted with yips and affectionate licks.
Watching these displays before him, Fenrir's wolf mind thinks back to the full moons he spent receiving Harry's relaxing ear scratches and nuzzling his growing cub in the wizard's belly. Almost instantaneously, the werewolf focuses on finding Harry. In both human and wolf form, Fenrir has been longing for the wizard ever since they parted—even he can't deny that. However this night, surrounded by the mated couples of his pack and their families, the wolf feels the yearning stronger than ever before.
So, with the clarity of this instinctual form, the wolf realizes that he needs his mate. Whatever doubts that had plagued their relationship could be fixed and soothed. He would make it better and prove to his mate, to Harry, that he had chosen correctly.
The large wolf emits a sharp bark, catching his betas attention. Looking to Scarlett and Derrick with a fierce determination, they perk up their ears and wag their tails enthusiastically. The couple instantly realizing what it is their alpha is planning to do.
About damn time you came to your senses. Go get your mate, Fenrir.
We can handle everything here. Good Luck, Alpha, offers Derrick, with the wolf equivalent of a knowing smile.
With a triumphant howl, the alpha wolf bounds out into the open snow of the Russian taiga. The wind blows at his back, bringing with it the encouraging howls of his pack. Picking up his speed, Fenrir travels out of the range of the powerful anti-apparition wards and towards England.
Freshly fallen snow covers the English countryside around Ron and Hermione's home. Just outside the house, two children in thick coats play. The snow barely sticks together, however the two don't let that stop them. Their excitement of the early snowfall is evident by their laughter and bright smiles. Thoroughly engaged in their play, the two children don't notice the man that has just apparated behind them.
"What're you two doin' outside by yourselves?"
Looking up, Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley have surprised faces at the unexpected appearance of the stranger. However, a grin quickly replaces the boy's shock as he recognizes the older man. He may not have lycanthropy, but his senses have always been a bit heightened thanks to his father's genes. However, his mother's genes are responsible for the sudden change in hair color due to Teddy's excitement.
"Hi, Grayson!"
"Hey cub," replies Fenrir, with a small smile to the two young children. "It's good to see you two again."
"Monsieur Grayson?" exclaims Victoire, finally recognizing the man without the glamour that Harry had placed on him all those months ago. "You look different."
"Yeah, I know. And the name is Fenrir Greyback. Not Grayson."
"Okay," the two children both reply, easily accepting the new information.
"Iz Uncle 'Arry with you?"
"No, actually I was hoping he was here."
At the disappointing news, Fenrir lets out a resigning sigh. The home of Ron and Hermione Weasley was the last place that the werewolf could think of to find his mate. Now, he has absolutely no idea where to start looking for Harry. Fenrir runs a hand through his thick grey-streaked hair in frustration as tries to think of where to go next in the search for his wayward mate.
"Are you okay, Mr. Greyback? You look sad."
"I'm fine," assures the man, smiling a bit as the boy's hair changes color yet again. "You two don't stay out here too long. It's getting' cold out here."
"It's okay. Aunt 'Mione is making us hot chocolate!"
"You should join us!" exclaims Victoire, the excitement radiating from her bright face.
"Sorry cubs, I have something to do. Maybe next time, alright?"
Teddy and Victoire are noticeably disappointed, but still wave enthusiastically to the werewolf as they head back into the house. Once the two kids are inside, Fenrir, lets out a deep sigh. As the man turns to walk away, he is surprised when Hermione suddenly appears in the doorway of her home.
"Fenrir, wait!"
At the witch's call, he stays put. Piercing blue eyes simply watch as Hermione catches up to him.
"Why didn't you come inside?" inquires the witch, her eyebrow raised in question.
"I just came to find Harry. I figured that you all didn't need me ruining your get together."
The man's gruff answer makes a smile appear on Hemione's face. With a knowing look, the witch simply observes the intimidating man known as Fenrir Greyback.
"You're welcome in our house, Fenrir. Even if I have to remind my husband of that fact from time to time."
"I appreciate that."
"Good. Now that that's all settled, Harry went to go see Luna right after he was cleared from Saint Mungo's. Hold on."
With a flick of her wand, the witch summons a slip of paper, using the tip of her wand, she quickly scribbles down the address of Luna Lovegood in perfect handwriting before handing it over to Fenrir.
"Here you go. This is Luna's address in Ireland. She'll be expecting you, I'm sure."
A wave of relief passes through Fenrir as he takes the paper that will lead him to his mate. If he was a different man, he may have hugged the witch before him.
"Not that I ain't thankful, but why're you givin' this to me?"
"The three of us, Harry, Ron and I, have been through so much together—we're family. We love Harry, but Ron and I alone can't give him everything that he needs. Harry needs you, his mate, to be truly happy. After all, you're his family now, too."
"Thanks," replies the werewolf, honestly unsure of how else to respond to such a statement.
Taken aback by the offered gratitude, Hermione smiles.
"You're very welcome."
"By the way, congratulations on the baby."
The offhanded comment has the witch blushing as her eyes widen comically. It takes a moment for Hermione to regain herself.
"H-how'd you know that I'm pregnant?"
"I'm a werewolf, remember?"
"Right. Of course," the witch responds, annoyed with herself that she had forgotten how powerful lycan olfactory senses are. "I haven't told anyone yet, so please keep it to yourself. Ron will hate it if he finds out that you knew before he did."
"Trust me, he won't hear it from me."
With that, the man turns to walk away, preparing to apparate as close as he can to the address he has been given.
"Thank you," The witch calls after him, smiling at the gesture. "Good luck with Harry."
The werewolf doesn't turn around or stop, but he does lift a hand up in acknowledgement of Hermione's encouragement.
The rolling hills of Ireland are covered in their own light dusting of snow as a cool breeze chills the valley. Luna Lovegood is outside sweeping her porch of the white powder bundled up in a pale lavender peacoat. The blonde witch simply continues her task humming an odd tune, not even looking up, as a guest approaches her home. Instead, a soft smile is on her face as her eyes finally make contact with the gruff werewolf.
"Ah, you must be Fenrir."
"Yeah, and you must be Luna."
"Yes, I am," replies the witch as she leans the broom against the side of her home. "If you're here for Harry, I'm afraid that you've just missed him. He returned to England a few hours ago. He was determined to finish some work at the ministry. He worked as much as he could here via owl, but apparently there are some things that have to be done in person, even in this day and age."
The werewolf grumbles in annoyance and swears under his breath as he realizes that he came all the way to Ireland for nothing. With a murmured "thanks", he turns around to make his way back to England.
"Mr. Greyback , before you go, may I say something?"
The wolf halts in his tracks.
"I'm listenin'."
"No matter what Harry might say to you when you find him, he does love you. I do hope you know that."
The statement hangs in the air between the two for a long moment, before Fenrir turns back to the witch.
"How exactly do you know that?"
"Well, I've been friends with Harry for a long time, and this is the first time I've seen him so vulnerable. Even when were fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters, Harry somehow managed to keep things together. But when he came here, the bravest person I've ever known was literally crying on my doorstep. And in my experience, a person can only be that sad when they love someone with all their heart."
As those words sink in, Fenrir takes a deep breath.
"Then again," adds Luna, "Harry didn't exactly deny his feeling when I asked him if he loved you. So, there's that to go on as well."
The unexpected statement has Fenrir smirking against his better judgment. Remembering what Harry himself had told him about the unconventional witch, the werewolf decides almost immediately that he likes her.
"Thank you for takin' care of him, when I couldn't."
"Not a problem. Hopefully, I won't have to do it again."
"You won't," guarantees Fenrir. "By the way, you wouldn't happen to have some extra Floo Powder and a working fireplace, would ya?"
"Follow me. I'm pretty sure that Harry left some behind when he left for the Ministry."
Shaking off excess Floo Powder from his coat, Fenrir Greyback stalks through the halls of the Ministry of Magic—the alpha werewolf on a mission. He pays no attention to the various ministry employees he passes or the mumbled gossip that leaves their lips. Fenrir simply focuses on finding Harry, a task easier said than done. Sifting through the multitude of smells that fill the marble halls, he searches for a particular scent. It takes a few moments, but eventually Fenrir nose finds the aura of powerful magic wrapped with the intoxicating scent that belongs to one Harry James Potter.
Locking onto it, the man starts down the main hall with heavy strides. The labyrinth of corridors that make up the Ministry of Magic mean nothing to the werewolf that is trained on a particular scent.
"Mr. Greyback?"
At his name, the man manages to snap himself out of his focused hunt. Turning around, Fenrir finds himself looking into the familiar face of Abigail. The dark-haired witch stares at him with a look of honest surprise and shock.
"What are you doing here at the Ministry?"
"I'm here to see Harry. Do you know where he is?"
"Well, I suppose that he would be in his office since Minister Shacklebolt hasn't lifted his field work restriction."
"Where is it?"
With a small smile, the girl points down a hallway.
"The Head Auror's office is down that hall there. When you reach the end of it, stand on the seal on the floor and say the password. The door to Harry's office will appear then."
"What's the password?"
"Lemondrop," replies the witch without hesitation.
"Thanks."
"It's nothing. You saved my life back in the Forbidden Forest, the least I can do is break a few rules to help you find your mate."
Taking the help, Fenrir offers the witch a look of approval. It is a rare look given to anyone outside the werewolf's pack and it manages to surprise the dark-haired girl.
"Abigail, it's good to see that you're feelin' better."
"Thank you, Mr. Greyback."
The witch and the werewolf exchange a look of understanding before they part ways. Following Abigail's instructions, Fenrir finds himself standing before a solid wall of marble. On the floor is a seal of the Auror's office. Stating the password, the man watches as the marble wall shifts to reveal a carved wooden door emblazoned with the title: Head Auror - Harry J. Potter. Taking a brief moment to formulate a quick plan, the werewolf barges into the room.
For a moment, there is complete silence as the werewolf stares at the rather surprised Head Auror of the Ministry of Magic. Familiar, yet startled, green eyes look up at Fenrir as the man crosses the threshold of the office and shuts the door behind him.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
Sorry to end it here, but I had to break this chapter up somewhere! Good news is that won't take very long for the next, and final, chapter to be posted. A few days, tops!
Later Days!