Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, as mentioned in the updated author's note of the previous chapter I was wiped out yesterday by a migraine but it's thankfully gone now. Turns out I was right and I couldn't fit everything into this chapter ;) So there will be twenty-seven chapters in all for this story and number twenty-seven will be uploaded next Saturday evening. Sorry again for the delay, I hope you like the chapter and see you all next week :D
The chapter title comes from the phrase: "Home should be the treasure chest of living" – Le Corbusier.
Thanks again for all your support!
.: Chapter Twenty-Six :.
Treasure Chest of Living
Harry felt unaccountably nervous as the tunnels opened up before them and they all stepped inside. The forest had felt light and welcoming, greeting his lungs, skin and hair to a fresh breeze that made him feel free again. The caves were warm by comparison, like the comforting darkness of the den. He felt Remus, Hermione and Ron tense slightly and walk a little closer as the soft lighting of the columns greeted them. Harry stared back at them briefly, remembering his first time seeing these tunnels.
He thought he could only remember feeling awed by the magic of the place, while plotting his escape from Fenrir too of course. Glancing up at Fenrir as they lead the way down the tunnel, he smiled slightly, thinking of how far they'd come. Fenrir had been uncompromising and brutish, he'd used an entirely selfish way to rescue him from Voldemort that had changed his life forever.
Harry didn't know if he would ever be able to justify that action but then…most of life's worst and best mistakes could not be justified. Dying and nearly losing everything seemed to have made him realise that there were just some things you couldn't find reason for.
He stroked Kirian's neck as they walked but the little boy was resting contentedly in his arms, cheek on Harry's collarbone, awake but content. All men were capable and responsible for some awful decisions. Even the best intentions could devastate everything. A voice that sounded very like Dumbledore's I his mind said that perhaps men could only be judged then on how they rectified or dealt with the consequences of those decisions.
"They're so beautiful," Hermione said as they walked, looking at the ethereal columns of light.
Harry smiled awkwardly. "We have these in all the individual dens too, they change depending on the time of day," he explained, nervous tension easing slightly at the light, easy conversation that followed. Fenrir remained silent, of course but it wasn't quietness born of tension or fear any longer, but one similar to the comfortable silences he and Harry had shared before. When they came to the gate, Harry could practically taste Remus' anticipation, Hermione's excited nervousness, Ron's uncertainty. He glanced back to his friends with a small smile and watched as a familiar face approached from the other side of the gate to let them in.
Amoux's eyes were bright as she caught sight of him and Kirian and she beamed widely, wrapping him in a tight embrace as soon as they stepped out into the valley. "We were so worried," she gasped, voice determinedly not crying. "Alpha told us you were safe, of course but…" Her following words were distorted by dry sobs and she squeezed him a final time before drawing back, holding him at arm's length the way Mrs Weasley might do, studying him carefully, until she saw Kirian.
Harry gave her an embarrassed smile and turned slightly so she could see Kirian's unaffected little expression without moving him too much. Kirian just blinked up at the dazzling brightness of the light November sky, not a care in the world.
"He's stunning," Amoux breathed, voice hoarse as she edged closer to get a proper look, practically pressed against Harry's back. "Those eyes…"
"His name is Kirian," Harry said, feeling proud and embarrassed somehow at the same time. He felt the rest of the pack approaching before he saw them, but noticed that they did not close in, but rather formed a loose semi-circle around them. He glanced reassuringly to his three friends, hoping to convey that they would be alright.
"He who was born in a dark place?" Amoux noted softly, "very apt. Physically and metaphorically."
Suddenly a sharp inhuman yip ripped through the air and Harry turned to see a familiar grey wolf barrelling through the crowd toward him. Harry lowered himself to one knee just in time to catch a wet, messy lick across his face.
"Harry!" Hermione gasped, "Be careful with him around Kirian."
Harry said nothing to this, only reached out and dragged the fingers of his free hand through Ghost's fur, scratching his ears and jowls. He'd missed him so much and he was so glad to see him whole and happy, tongue lolling and tail wagging. "It's alright Hermione, he's not like a dog. They're part of the pack too." Out of the corner of his eye he could see some of the other wolves scattered around the legs of the pack, watching curiously. Waiting to meet their alphas' cub, no doubt. Again, Harry felt oddly proud and embarrassed at once – on show.
"Missed you too, boy," he said in an undertone to Ghost, who was now sniffing excitedly at Kirian's capped head. Kirian wriggled at the feel of the fur but otherwise remained silent, sucking determinedly on his dummy. He did look quite dishevelled though when Ghost gave Kirian such a fierce lick that it nearly pushed the hat off his head. Harry laughed and stroked a fluffy grey ear before getting to his feet. It felt good to feel Ghost next to him again, to stand on this familiar grass and stare at everyone. It was like relief sweeping through him and he knew he'd made the right decision.
He was home.
Fenrir, who had been silent up until then rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed firmly, though Harry noticed he scratched absently at Ghost's head when the wolf butted against his free hand. "I spoke to you all this morning about a potential pack member joining us, depending on how he takes to pack dynamics during the next full moon, this is Lupin." He gestured back to where Remus stood just to the side of Harry, as warm and professional as he had been in their first lesson at Hogwarts. Yet more nervous, apprehensive.
Harry would have told the pack that he expected them to treat Remus with respect, as they would one of their own except he knew that he didn't have to. He just knew they would, so instead he said, "these are my friends Ron and Hermione. They…they're like family to me. They'll probably be visiting a lot."
"Definitely," Ron said firmly, but not unkindly, confirming for Harry that he hadn't been made to choose at all. He wasn't losing anything.
"Well let's show them around then," Accalia cried jovially, stepping forward and gripping Harry's other shoulder gently for a moment before staring down at Kirian. "It's so good to see you both. Alpha didn't say you would be coming or else we'd have more of a welcome for you…" He glanced up at Fenrir for a moment before focussing on Kirian. "You did an amazing job, Harry. We…we're so happy you're home."
Those words made everything in Harry tense for all the right reasons. It felt like a warm embrace squeezing him tight and he floundered momentarily for words. Hermione had such an odd look on her face and Fenrir's grip on his shoulder tightened infinitesimally. Home. He was home and there was nothing out there trapping him or forcing him or making it a prison, nothing to stop him from choosing it of his own free will now.
Home.
Harry felt his eyes sting as he smiled gratefully at Accalia.
"We've got enough for an early supper and some festivities," Amoux said brightly, "Come Lupin, Ron, Hermione, we'll show you around." Harry couldn't help but smirk at Hermione's unrestrained eagerness as she led the way after Amoux, Remus and Ron following at a more sedate pace. Remus glanced back to him briefly before the pack swept in to greet Harry and Kirian.
Any lingering nervousness that some may blame him, Harry for what happened with the Conall and the other rogue wolves was swept away as he was hugged and clapped on the back, scented and even cried on. Even Larentia had spared him a hug when Raquelle had finally let go of him, still stiff from the battle but very much whole.
Hemming and Lupa had been the clap on the back sort, while Marrok (when Harry saw him) stepped forward and held the respectful gap for a moment before pulling Harry into a suffocating, heavy hug. The dark-skinned man looked a little off still, his veins lined with the tell-tale blackness of dark magic, but otherwise he was beaming as ever. Harry felt a little embarrassed at his attention, remembering the crush he supposedly had on him but that was quashed easily by his relief in seeing the man so well.
Kirian gave an almighty cry then, not used to being surrounded by so many bodies and before Harry could even glance down, Marrok had bent so his head was level with Kirian's squalling face. "There now little prince, that's a face," Marrok murmured, voice and eyes soft. "Your whole family is just happy to see you." Kirian blinked up at him, still fussing without any real tears and flatly refused the dummy when Marrok tried to pop it back in his mouth.
Harry laughed at the petulant expression on his little bludger's face, catching the rejected dummy in his hand. The newborn's cries were still a bit feeble compared to the one's he'd heard Teddy give off but they were healthy and they seemed to have the pack as enraptured as if he were giggling. Harry was forced to remember then how precious and rare Kirian was to them. A treasure. And though the idea of sharing his little gift still made him feel a bit odd, he also wanted to share him with them all. Parenthood was one big paradox, it seemed.
"Err…Maybe if we all go sit down so you can see him one at a time," Harry suggested, "might not be so overwhelming then." As they all moved toward the stone courtyard, however, he found two familiar shapes in his way. Echo beamed at them, giving Harry a short nod which Harry returned, while Draco seemed to be assessing him.
"Finally realised what you wanted then, Potter?" he mused, apparently trying very hard to seem haughty and failing spectacularly.
Harry smirked. "Finally. You too, I see?" he replied, carrying on walking toward the courtyard with Fenrir on one side of him and Draco on the other. "Where are your parents?"
Draco looked torn. "Mother is free, thanks to the statement you left attached to your letter," he said, avoiding Harry's eye. "She never took the dark mark and your statement, it… Father has had his wand broken and he is under house arrest for the next thirty years, maybe less if he behaves." He winced as he forced himself to look at Harry.
They all took their seats around the stone circle as they always had for meals before Kirian had been born. Accalia was lighting a fire in the stone hearth at its core and its warming magic was already wrapping around them all as Harry stared into Malfoy's eyes.
"Potter," Draco began, "Harry. My mother never did anything to deserve what she suffered as death eater's wife. And my father did some awful things but in the end he… Well, in accordance with your statement and the pensieve memory of Snape accusing him of letting us all in, even though we all know he didn't, he's got off with a punishment that some might say is far too lenient but…" Draco bit his lip and sighed. "He's still my father. So thank you."
Harry cocked his head as he settled Kirian on his knee and let his eyes flick to Echo, who was sitting beside Draco and staring at him with eyes that were so proud Harry felt slightly embarrassed to watch. Echo's hand was resting lightly on Draco's knee and Draco looked so healthy and happy, untroubled as Harry had never seen him, not even when they were younger.
"What have your parents said about Echo now that they're back at home then?" Harry asked. He couldn't help but notice that since Draco had come into view Kirian had calmed somewhat, eyes wide with interest and awe at his presence. He finds him interesting, he thought with amusement, wondering if Draco had noticed that Kirian liked him.
Draco flushed slightly. "Mother is insisting we come to dinner next week." When Harry laughed at the image that presented, Draco's brow furrowed. "Don't be a twat, Potter," he groused, "I have seen you in labour, you know? And heard the noises you make when you and Greyback are roasting the broomstick – I'm not above using what I know against you."
"Wanker," Harry bit out without malice, just as a familiar head of blond curls whipped into view and a small body collided with his side.
"Harry!" Vilkas cried, clambering up to seat himself between Harry and Draco, supporting himself with an unconcerned hand on each of their legs. He beamed delightedly up at Harry, so brazenly pleased to see him that it took Harry's breath away for a moment. Children were so open, so genuine that it startled him sometimes. He wondered if he'd get used to that after a childhood of darkness or if it would always take him by surprise?
When Kirian fidgeted in Harry's arms, brow furrowed as he stared at Vilkas, Harry watched Vilkas' eyes drop quickly to the tiny boy. Those eyes lit up like Christmas. "The puppy!" he gasped, awestruck, leaning heavily forward on Harry's knee to get a better look at Kirian, so unsteady that Draco had to shoot a hand out to his belly to steady him. Not in the least bit distracted by his own clumsiness, Vilkas looked up from Kirian to Harry, to Kirian again, who was whining uncertainly, overwhelmed by new smells and so many bodies at once.
It occurred to Harry that he just knew that Kirian was feeling overwhelmed, he knew it. The thought was comforting. There was hope that he wouldn't completely mess this up, despite his own poor example of parenting as a child.
"Why's he crumple-faced?" Vilkas asked, confused.
Beside Harry, Fenrir laughed, a low, warm grumbling sound that after his respectful silence, made Harry feel… There was no word for it. He glanced to Fenrir, realising how quiet he had been while Harry had spoken with Draco, while the pack had welcomed him back and as he looked at him, he realised just how content Fenrir was. Harry had never seen him so quietly pleased. The expression in those eyes and the feelings pulsing softly through the bond made an odd fluttering, tight sensation in his belly. Flushed and not wanting to betray his feelings, Harry glanced quickly back to Vilkas.
"He's probably got wind or maybe he's grumpy because he's not used to so many people," Harry said.
Vilkas blinked. "He don't like me?"
"Doesn't," Draco corrected primly.
Harry rolled his eyes. "He's just little and gets scared easily. He doesn't know how nice it is here yet." He offered the handle end of Kirian's dummy to Vilkas.
"I show him," Vilkas said seriously. "I know all the best trees and hills." He looked at Kirian's grizzling mouth and then the dummy again, as if taking a moment to remember what to do with it. Harry thought he must've seen at least one of the other children have one, and sure enough Vilkas seemed to remember, for he pushed the dummy into Kirian's mouth. A little bit more forceful than necessary, as Kirian scowled and blinked in confusion for a moment, before sucking on it fiercely. But there was no harm done and the grizzling stopped.
"He likes me!" Vilkas said delightedly, pushing away from Harry's lap and bounding across the stone courtyard to his mother, who was approaching with Remus, Hermione and Ron. "Mummy! The puppy likes me!" He beamed as he was swept up into Amoux's arms.
Music was starting now, the kind of jovial, bright tunes that some of the pack-members played around the dinner circle. Remus, Hermione and Ron looked thoughtful, perhaps surprised at the light, warm atmosphere that was not unlike that of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Draco and Echo shifted down the circle so that they could sit near Harry.
Drawing in a small breath of preparation, Harry rose from his seat and headed toward the fire, where Larentia was now helping Accalia to prepare some meat. She turned to him, confused it seemed, her eyes flicking longingly to Kirian before her mask fell back into place. Harry's mouth twitched at the corners. "Do you want to supervise the first round of pass the baby?" he asked, trying to make light of the niggling possessiveness in his belly. He wondered if it was normal for a parent to feel so possessive of their baby or if it was yet another part of him inspired by the werewolf in him or his poor upbringing. Either way, he wasn't going to let it control him.
Larentia cast a cleaning charm on her hands and stood, staring at Harry. "You are sure?" she asked cautiously, but still reaching out without waiting for an answer.
"Yeah," Harry said, this time finding it much easier to push Kirian into her eager, loving arms.
Larentia's eyes glowed for a moment and she surrendered a small smile before nodding. "I'm first in the queue then," she mused.
"That's only fair," Harry agreed as he forced himself away from her and Kirian, to sit between Fenrir and Hermione once more. "What's the matter?" he asked Hermione much later when the food was going round, a spicy chicken that Amoux and Accalia seemed to remember was his favourite. "Do you not like it?" he asked.
Hermione glanced up, shaking her head, looking thoughtful as she sucked a piece of succulent meat from the bone before letting it rest in her bowl as she chewed. Beside her, Ron was gnawing on his share enthusiastically as ever – apparently the good food and festivities sealing his approval on the valley as he talked (and ate simulatenously) to Remus and Hemming.
"Nothing is wrong," Hermione confirmed when she'd swallowed. Her eyes strayed to Fenrir, who was deep in conversation with one of the other pack members, but with a casual hand resting on the back of Harry's seat. The humans had been fed first out of politeness, Harry thought, and so the hand behind him was free to brush knuckles against his back now and then, soothing him whenever he glanced anxiously to Kirian, who was currently half way round the circle, having dozed off while being swooned over.
"Then why are you looking like that" Harry asked, confused, sucking some more meat from his leg of chicken. He was surprised when his friend just smiled, glancing around at the festivities pointedly, where the winter sunlight had faded and everything was now illuminated by the cheerful torches and roaring fire.
"This is just…it's so wonderful, Harry. It's like a real family and they all love you so much and it's so beautiful here. So calm and safe. When I thought about it before I honestly thought I'd come here and see you trapped and…" She shook her head, sighing softly. "It's just not like that. It's like a paradise or something away from the press and the chaos. It's perfect for you and I'm…" Her eyes brimmed with tears but she straightened up, squeezing his wrist gently. "I'm just so happy for you. That you finally get to be happy after all this time. So loved."
Harry couldn't think of anything to say to that. He wanted to ask her about those last two words, wanted to ask her how she knew she loved Ron, what it felt like but Fenrir was so close and he didn't feel he could ask. Besides, she looked so honestly happy for him and so comfortable now in the company of the pack. He could see her and Ron visiting often and the image that presented was a nice one. He just smiled shyly and ate the rest of his meal.
When everyone had eaten and Kirian had reached back round the circle, Larentia swept Kirian back up in her arms, eyes bright with the fire and happiness only slightly touched by longing. "You call this a welcome home party? Where's the dancing?" she called and Harry watched as she gave a careful twirl, bouncing Kirian slightly as she went, the music picked up and some of the pack members moved to their feet.
Unlike the dancing at the courtship meal, this was casual, fun, light. Hermione dragged a reluctant, embarrassed Ron out into the dancing fray, gleeful and rosy-cheeked from the bubbly wine and the happiness surrounding them. Harry watched as Echo rose too, holding out a hand for Draco to take. Draco flushed scarlet and did not take it. "Come on, Draco," Echo urged, bowing low in a dramatic display that made the two young girls across the fire giggle.
"Absolutely not," Draco murmured, embarrassed, staring at where Ron was now more easily spinning Hermione round, then to Harry. "You have no idea what type of uncultured, judgemental pillocks I attended school with. I will not have them laugh at me."
Echo clucked his tongue and tugged Draco to his feet, just as Harry leant over and muttered, "Scared, Malfoy? Maybe you can't dance, that it?"
Draco lifted his chin. "I wasn't the one that made a right tit of myself at the Yule Ball," he countered. "Watch and learn, Potter." With that, he let Echo drag him out to dance.
When Fenrir stood, Harry felt a rush of nervousness and excitement but to his surprise (and perhaps disappointment) Fenrir merely brushed his second knuckles against Harry's throat. His eyes were warm. "I'll be back for my dance in a minute," he said, scratching at Ghost's ears before disappearing into the crowd of dancing bodies. Harry frowned, a little confused and let Ghost rest his head on his lap, stroking those silky grey ears thoughtfully. He didn't realise he'd been staring after Fenrir until Remus shifted closer, sipping at his goblet of sweet wine.
"You really are safe and happy here, aren't you, Harry?" Remus asked. He was giving him a look similar to the one Hermione had given him. Harry bit his lip nodding as he sipped at his own goblet. Amoux had insisted that one little glass wouldn't affect Kirian.
"I didn't realise how much I loved it here until I left," Harry said, looking now at his dancing friends, at the pack, even at Larentia who was dancing with Marrok with Kirian between them. Everything was so peaceful and happy and Remus had a glow in his eyes when Harry looked back to him that just completed everything. It gave him hope that next time Tonks and Teddy would be here too.
"I think we'll all have a good life here," Remus said thoughtfully, "if the full moon goes well."
Harry sat in comfortable silence with him for a while, the fire, music and happy chattering filling him up to bursting point. Then a thought occurred to him. "Which of my parents do you think carried the recessive gene?" he asked.
Remus set his goblet down. "I have wondered that myself. Apparently another wolf can sense someone who carries it only when the carrier's blood is spilt. Because of the wolfsbane my senses were limited. I never smelt anything different in you, James or Lily. There is no way to know for sure as the gene could have gone back generations before being noticed but…I can try and find out if you like?"
Shaking his head, Harry downed the rest of his drink. He stared at the firelight reflected off the golden rim for a moment before glancing across at the festivities. Apparently Fenrir had been feeding the wolves as he could be seen now setting down their bowls and making his way through the dancers with another bowl for Ghost, who was watching too, tail wagging.
"It doesn't matter really, or make a difference," Harry said at last. "I was just curious."
Apparently having noticed the direction of his gaze, Remus leant a little closer. "Do you love him, Harry?"
Harry tensed and stared between Remus and Fenrir, who had not reached them yet and had been delayed by a beaming Larentia easing a sleepy-eyed Kirian into Fenrir's free arm. When Harry found his voice, it was low and uncertain. "I…I don't really know what love is," he admitted, hating how young he sounded. But because this was Remus, he met his eye without fear. Remus had come through so much and he'd been there even when he hadn't thought Fenrir was a good choice. He'd stayed and he'd helped with the Weasleys and the pack and he'd supported him when it mattered.
"I just don't know. Not after the Dursleys and…well, everything," Harry continued, burying his face in his hands and cursing his own inability to understand his own feelings. "It's so fucked up. I'm so fucked up, Remus. I don't even know and…Fenrir is…" He's selfish and flawed and insensitive sometimes, brutish and so many years older, completely different to me and yet…
Yet he could be so thoughtful, had tried everything to make up for his one mistake even though the wolf in him hadn't thought of awakening Harry as a mistake. Fenrir was a good man and they were alike in so many other ways.
As if he'd been reading Harry's mind, Remus said kindly, "Only you can know your own heart, Harry, but everyone is flawed. Part of being in love is caring for that person in spite of those flaws."
Harry stared, stunned by the raw truth in those words but as he opened his mouth to reply, a shadow fell over him. He glanced up, surprised to see Marrok beaming down at him.
"Want a quick dance?" he asked, tugging Harry up to his feet before he could protest. Harry was still rubbish at dancing but this kind, the kind where you just swayed, turned and swung, he could do.
"You looked far too serious," Marrok said brightly, "we needed to wipe that expression off."
Harry smiled nervously, not because he felt awkward or shy but because Marrok clearly adored him and he wasn't sure how to deal with that. The man grabbed his hands and turned them both so that they spun under their joined hands before facing each other again.
"It's alright, you know," Marrok said, still smiling. "I'm alright. With you and Alpha and your little one. I'm not..." He blinked, then turned Harry by himself this time. "The wonderful thing about a werewolf's extended life is that you have plenty of time to find someone to share it with."
Harry saw the honesty and sincerity in Marrok's dark eyes, relieved by them, inspired by them. Then they flicked up and Harry turned, seeing Fenrir standing there, a dopey looking Kirian in his arms, so small in the cradle of muscle. Fenrir surveyed Harry carefully for a moment, apparently either concerned or startled by what he saw there. "Got a minute?" he asked gruffly, indicating Kirian. "I think he needs a feed before going down for the night."
Giving Marrok a small nod, Harry followed Fenrir toward the achingly familiar path across the grass toward the den. "Coming, Ghost?" he asked and the wolf chomped down his last mouthful of food before bounding after them.
The sight of the door made Harry's chest tighten, remembering the last time he'd walked this way – or been dragged more accurately by Draco away from the battle and with Kirian trying to make his way into the world. Things were so different now, so much calmer and it felt good. Like coming home.
Fenrir pushed the door open with his free hand and closed it behind them when Harry stepped inside. Things were definitely different. "I made adjustments to things I thought you'd be missing. That I thought might make the difference," Fenrir had said that earlier.
The den was illuminated by a fire as always, the columns of light glowing as if filled with stars. The bed was in the same place, their furs clean and inviting, in fact everything was except there were…additions. Down the curving, corridor like arch he knew lead to the bath, he saw two more doorways. What he made his way toward first, however, was the basinet that stood at the base of the slightly raised platform where the bed sat in the far corner.
The Victorian style basinet was made with rich cream fabrics embroidered with tiny silver wolves, enchanted to pounce on each other and frolic across the dressings happily. Harry was caught watching them for a while, eyes roving the small canopy above it and the soft blankets inside. He turned back to Fenrir, who hadn't moved from the door, was watching him carefully, as if worried he wouldn't like it – even if his face was hard as ever. Harry knew better.
"The pack made it," Fenrir said, "their gift to Kirian."
"It's amazing," Harry said and when he turned he couldn't help but notice the few other additions to the room. His firebolt leant against the wall by the shelves, his rucksack beside it and the photo album, it sat on the shelf, staring at him from its new home and sending a jolt of horror through him. The letter. He glanced quickly to Fenrir, whose expression was unreadable. Panicked, Harry wet his suddenly dry lips and marched toward the two new doorways.
"What's through here?" he called even as he walked, feeling panicked, not knowing what to say to Fenrir about the things he'd written in the letter at that moment and trying anything to give himself a few more moments before he'd have to. The first extra doorway, the one closest to the main room was filled with the same magical light columns as everywhere else. A larger, more robust cot sat in the corner with a voile, elaborate canopy dotted with silver stars, the floor was covered in furs, the walls lined with shelves and toys and blankets and things Harry didn't even recognise.
Harry watched as Ghost slipped away from his side and sniffed at the little wooden blocks lined up along the underside of the cot to spell 'Kirian' with the rest of the blocks tidied into neat piles beside them. There was even a little griffin teddy bear, that's irony was not lost on Harry. He smiled as Ghost found it, snatching it up in his jaws and bringing it over to Harry with a happily swaying tail.
"It's alright," Harry mused, "I don't think this one will bite." He took the toy and set it on a higher shelf, stroking Ghost's head gently. He wondered if he'd had a room even remotely like this when he was a baby. He wondered if Fenrir had been thinking about that, if he'd been worrying over what Harry might or might not be expecting when he'd put this together.
The room next door was what came as a complete surprise and stole his breath. It was so simple and yet unexpected that he just froze in the doorway, staring. It was a modest sized room with a rustic wooden table and six chairs. There was a flameless stone fireplace against the far wall, a dormant wizarding wireless in the centre and four huge columns that filled the room with light. It looks so comfortable and welcoming. Harry knew exactly what it was for.
When he felt Fenrir come to stand behind him, Harry didn't turn at once, unable to tear his gaze away from the table. "Because our den is a bit personal for visitors?" Harry assumed.
Fenrir huffed. "Because I thought you'd want a space to go when your friends visited that was just…well, yours," Fenrir explained, voice gruff and unyielding. "Your mate Kingsley set that fire up on a private floo system attached only to your Weasley house and Eithne's. No other grate can access it and you can only go there through it but it's a gateway to them, so you can see them whenever you want. I don't want an open floo network where anyone can stumble in here. The security around the valley has been rehashed and redesigned and I can't have any gaps in the–" Fenrir's defensive rambling cut short as he obviously realised how increasingly uncertain he was sounding, how much he was betraying as Harry turned to him.
Harry had thought he'd known what Fenrir had been up to while he'd been avoiding him but he hadn't expected this. Fenrir, who hated the wizarding world had given Harry a connection to it, knowing he would miss parts of it, knowing he would miss his friends. Harry knew what a sacrifice that was to him, his privacy, but the thought that he'd done all this purely in the hope that Harry would eventually come home was what made Harry's throat go tight and dry.
"You must've known I'd come back," Harry murmured, words raw. "You must've done."
Fenrir stared at him hard, Kirian still scowling sleepily up at him. "I'd…hoped." He grit his teeth as if ashamed of the admittance and avoided Harry's gaze by adjusting Kirian's blanket around him more precisely. "Why would I have expected you to stay? I knew…I thought I knew how you felt about me. About the fact that I awoke the wolf in you without your permission."
Feeling trapped again by panic, by not knowing the right words to say, Harry reached for Kirian and pulled him close. "I'll feed him and set him down for the night," he said, moving through the doorway and back to the main room. Their bed looked as it always did, cloaked in the semi-transparent veil and filled with furs, blankets and pillows. Harry sat on the edge and shrugged off Fenrir's fur cloak. He changed Kirian's nappy then felt Fenrir come to stand at the end of the bed as he drew Kirian close to feed.
"Were you ever going to come get me?" Harry asked after some time, after Kirian had to have been full and was merely nursing for the comfort of it, eyes fluttering as he drifted, little hands curling against Harry's chest beside his face. Fenrir came closer, sitting beside Harry on the edge of the bed and hesitating a moment before apparently finding his voice.
"I'd have come after you if you hadn't shown up," Fenrir admitted, voice like gravel, hand coming to rest against Harry's throat. He glanced to where Kirian was clearly asleep now, a dribble of milk over his chin. "I'm not a very selfless man. But I tried to be, I tried bloody hard." His eyes were the brightest blue as they flicked up to meet Harry's, the lights from the columns reflected within. "I wanted you to make the choice without me there, so you'd always know that it wasn't…" His face twisted in disgust. "Not whatever your friends called it at first, force or prisoner syndrome or something."
When Harry floundered in the tide of swelling emotion, in the loss of words, he saw Fenrir chance a look at the photo album through the parted semi-transparent drapes and any hope that Harry had clung to that Draco had destroyed the letter vanished.
"You said that you didn't want to leave," Fenrir said at last, "and that you'd never felt more alive. I s'pose that's what gave me hope. Even if you had written it thinking you were going to stay dead."
"I meant it all – I still mean it all now," Harry said, wanting to say more but feeling the urge to set Kirian down properly before he did so. Getting to his feet, he moved down the shallow steps to the main area where Kirian's basinet sat and gently eased him down into it, taking off his hat and setting it aside, before tucking him in carefully. He hadn't tucked him into a proper bed made just for him before. It felt odd, but nice – just another part of being relaxed in his own home. He didn't think the novelty of that would ever wear off.
So lost in staring at Kirian's sleepy, comfortable face, safe in his own bed for the first time, Harry was startled when Fenrir came to his side, his comparatively large hand brushing gently at Kirian's auburn flecked locks. "Stop avoiding me," Fenrir said firmly and when Harry met his eyes, they were focussed on him so fiercely. "He's safe. He's home. Talk to me."
Harry couldn't help himself. "You? Talk?" he began, taking a few steps back. Fenrir's arm shot out, wrapping firmly around his waist and hauling him close. The free hand cupped his throat as it had always done, as if protecting it from the sight of imaginary predators and at the same time pushing Harry's chin up so he couldn't hide his gaze as he was want to do.
"I know why you kept it from me, what you needed to do," Fenrir said. "There's no way in hell I'd have let you walk in there if I thought you were going to die. I know why you did it but I don't bloody like it. I don't even know how you lied to me, mates aren't supposed to be able to–"
"I didn't lie," Harry snapped, voice fierce and low, like a growling wolf. He glanced down at Kirian's sleepy face and shoved back from Fenrir, stalking over to the circle of furs and cushions around the fire, casting a hasty silencing charm around them when Fenrir followed, with a casual pass of his hand. Fenrir didn't seem concerned or even bothered by his blatant use of magic without effort or wand, not now he knew Harry was staying. So it really had been just that he was afraid Harry didn't need him, the thought made Harry's annoyance ease a little – but only a little.
"I don't particularly like it either you know, but the truth is I was raised so I could walk into that room and let Voldemort kill me. If I didn't do it, Voldemort would have come back. I told you what horcruxes did, he left one inside me by accident. I'd have been used somehow to bring him back even if we'd killed him," he cringed at the idea of Voldemort walking around in his skin, using his face while hurting everyone he loved and had to remind himself that it was over several times before he could continue.
"He would have hurt my friends, the pack, you, even Kirian and I couldn't let that happen, not when I could stop him. Whether it was right or wrong it's over now, can we just–?"
"Just forget it?" Fenrir sneered. "Forget that you would have so easily left me behind? We're meant to be sodding partners and you charged in by yourself and left me. You would have left me if I hadn't held onto you while Snape pumped my blood through you."
Harry glared. "You read that letter," he murmured darkly, "You read it, you must've realised how hard it was for me. I was fucking scared, alright? I was eighteen and scared and I didn't want to leave you behind, it was the hardest thing I've ever done to walk through those doors and know I'll never fucking see you again, alright? I was terrified and thinking about it makes me…"
Licking his dry lips, Harry cursed the way his eyes stung. He hoped they weren't glassy with the angry, overwhelmed tears he felt building. "It hurts to think about. Don't you dare make out that it was just so easy for me to do because it wasn't. I've faced dragons and dementors and even death and the hardest thing I've ever done is to leave you. So don't." He could understand why Fenrir was upset, but it didn't give him leave to forget that Harry was too. That he was still recovering from the trauma of everything that had happened, tired, shaky and sick at the thought of what he might have lost.
Suddenly Fenrir was so painfully close again, eyes burning in the firelight and Harry watched, confused as the man reached down to toss the shawl that'd been wrapped around him away, leaving him standing there bare and daring Harry to look away. Harry didn't. He stared for a long time, surveying him from head to toe, lingering over the nasty raw patches of flesh where the silver was stopping certain wounds from healing as quickly. When he reached out to brush his fingers along the nasty raw skin on Fenrir's side where the spear had pierced him, Fenrir seized his wrist. Their eyes locked and he was surprised when instead of forcing their mouths together, Fenrir merely leant in, so close that their breath mingled on Harry's slightly parted lips.
Harry stared, something low in his belly quivering uncertainly as Fenrir gripped his neck, coarse thumbs brushing against his cheekbones and jaw while they stared. "I've seen wizards do cruel things in the name of war, power, fear," Fenrir began, voice low and tender. "You're the first one that's ever shown me cruelty in the name of kindness, Harry Potter."
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Harry closed his eyes tight, unable to bear the sight of Fenrir's anguish and uncertainty, but then Fenrir drew in a shallow breath and it was so unlike him that Harry's lashes fluttered open again, wide with surprise.
"You've suffered and yet somehow you…you've shown me that the world isn't only filled with suffering," Fenrir said raggedly, frowning as if he still didn't understand it. "You left me. Like everyone else bloody did." Those last words were so undiluted and honest, so painful that Harry thought a strained sound of agony whispered past his own lips.
"Not again," Harry breathed, "it's over now."
Fenrir's eyes hardened. "How do I know that? How do I know you won't get it into your head that we all needed protecting and you're the only one who can do it again?"
"Because there isn't another prophecy hanging over my head," Harry said. "And because I'm done being the hero now. Everything we do from now on we do together – partners, like you said, yeah?"
Fenrir's features didn't soften, but he also didn't let go of Harry's face. "So that's why you're hiding away in here with me? Because you don't want to be the hero?"
Harry glared. "No you thick-headed prat, because I want to be with you! You and Kirian and the pack and…urgh, you're so fucking frustrating! Putting on this pig-headed front when inside you're just a paranoid, scared, insecure–"
Suddenly his lips were taken. Fenrir hauled him even closer, so that their bodies slid together and Harry had to grip his shoulders to keep from toppling back. Fenrir's lips were firm and slow, coaxing his mouth open with his tongue flicking inside to touch Harry's, gentle, sliding, languid, unlike their other hard kisses. Their teeth did clack a little as Harry turned his head to deepen it, wrapping his arms round the man's neck and hanging on, grunting softly whenever that tongue slid just right along the side of his own.
With his head spinning, Harry slid his hands down between them, touching Fenrir's skin, wincing when his fingertips brushed the man's wounded side and Fenrir recoiled slightly, grunting in surprised pain.
"Shit," Harry cursed, "I'm sorry, I–" He was cut short again when Fenrir sealed his mouth with his own once more, urging him down onto the furs around the fire and dipping his kisses lower around Harry's jaw. Harry rolled his head up for a moment, enjoying the feel of that warm mouth against his sensitive neck and dragging off his glasses to set them aside out of the way. He reached between them, managing to shrug out of his shirt only to feel Fenrir burrow his nose into the hollow of his throat when his upper body was completely bare.
"I love you." The soft, gruff sound vibrated against his neck, hidden there as if Fenrir was afraid to look at him while he said the words. Such human words. Looking back, there had been so many 'werewolf' or 'Fenrir' endearments that had meant the same thing. So many times Fenrir had told him that in different ways that Harry could not believe he'd missed it. But he knew it now, with such startling clarity that a soft choked sound of emotion clogged up his throat.
"No more heroics," Fenrir added roughly, "we're in this together now, no secrets. Promise me." When Harry faltered, still too stunned at those first three hoarse words to reply, Fenrir lifted his head, eyes dark. "Promise me," he insisted.
Harry growled softly, gripping Fenrir's neck and pushing up to kiss him, hard. He locked his knees around that waist and pushed up with everything he had until he was on top of Fenrir in the furs beside the fire, bearing down on him, kissing fiercely, with everything he had, with things he didn't even have words for. Then he drew back a little, offering small, tentative licks to Fenrir's mouth, just inside to the tip of his tongue without their lips touching, his bristly cheek, his jaw. Wolf and human kisses, with chests pressed so close together that their heartbeats were pounding against each other.
"I promise," Harry swore breathlessly, smoothing his hand across Fenrir's forehead and into his hair, caressing his scalp as he licked at the tongue that flicked up through open lips to meet his. "The earth, the sun, the moon, the stars," Harry repeated, until Fenrir groaned hotly between their parted mouths. The hand not knotted in Fenrir's hair slid down to rest between their twin racing hearts. Fenrir strained up to bring their lips together again in a slow kiss and Harry's stomach flipped, tense and excited and hurting all at once. He knew what love was.
Love was caring for someone even when they weren't always right. It was being there for each other, even when you couldn't fully understand each other and it was pain, warmth and fear. It was home, the moon on his back and the give and take of compromise. Helping someone with what they believed in, even if you didn't believe yourself. It was self-sacrifice and warm lips against his and one of the strongest men alive breathless and uncertain how to express himself. It was thinking about not seeing that man everyday and knowing how much it would hurt.
"Love you," Harry answered, "so much." He felt it through their otherworldly connection as something in Fenrir burned achingly hot. Like Harry's insides had been doused with cinders from the fire. "I'm sorry I'm so thick," Harry gasped, smiling when he felt Fenrir's warm, rough chuckle against his mouth, punctuated with a final kiss before those hands slid down to grip his hips.
"That Malfoy brat was right, you know," Fenrir said.
"Draco? Why? What did he say?" Harry asked, pushing up slightly on both hands so he was sitting on Fenrir's belly and staring down at him, carefully avoiding putting any pressure on his still healing wounds.
Fenrir flashed teeth in a smirk. "He said you always won everything, including peoples' adoration." Fenrir hesitated for a moment, large hands sliding on Harry's hipbones so his thumbs could caress the hollows just inside them. "Even Fenrir Greyback's."
Harry glanced up to see Ghost was laying dutifully beside Kirian's basinet, watching them with sleepy eyes and a wagging tail. He realised they might look a bit silly, with Harry sitting astride a very naked Fenrir this way, talking about such embarrassingly intimate, sweet things but this was just his and Fenrir's and it didn't matter about anything else. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Harry said, reaching down to rest his hands over Fenrir's. "Although I think most of them already know."
Fenrir huffed without really any force behind it and just watched as Harry shifted back to sit across his hips.
***CENSORED. FOR FULL SCENE PLEASE FOLLOW ONE OF THE LINKS ON MY PROFILE***
"Bloody hell," Harry gasped, swiping at his face with his clean hand, closing his eyes against the dancing fuzzy lights and just waiting for his breathing to return to normal. He felt the ripple of a cleaning charm over his skin and appreciated it, but could not find strength to give that appreciation words, not even when an equally clean Fenrir slid onto the furs beside him and pulled one of them over them both.
"Hmmm," Harry eventually managed as Fenrir nosed into his neck, pulling him close with slightly shaking arms. "Are you sure I didn't really stay dead?" Harry asked. Before he could wonder if that probably wasn't the best thing to say to Fenrir, the man gave a tired huff of laughter against his ear.
"I don't care if we are, that was fucking brilliant," he muttered, sliding a hand down Harry's chest to his belly, where it rested. Harry wondered if Fenrir just liked his stomach. He'd have to ask him one day. He had plenty of time to find out. When at last everything calmed, Harry cancelled the silencing charm around them and twisted his head to check that Ghost and Kirian were still ok, before resting it on the arm that had snuck round under his neck. The fingers brushed his sweaty dishevelled fringe back from his face and Harry smirked shyly at the unabashed adoring look in Fenrir's eyes.
"Thank you for the extra rooms you made. Kirian's is amazing and the…my room, it's…it's perfect." All the more meaningful because Harry knew deep down Fenrir wanted him all to himself, to stay with the pack and not interfere with the wizarding world at all. But he'd given Harry a gateway directly back to it, to his family and with a place to invite them back when he wanted. Which would be often, though he had a feeling Fenrir wouldn't mind too much. Because this was Harry's home too now and he'd want him to make himself comfortable here.
"I hope Remus likes it here," Harry said thoughtfully after a while, staring up at the soft shapes his tired eyes were creating in the dimness of the ceiling above. The columns of light were dimmer now, casting a soft blue glow that was so calming Harry could almost fall asleep. Almost. "I know the full moon will go fine, I just don't know if he will adjust."
Fenrir mumbled something unintelligibly, but then when Harry turned his head a little to look directly at him, that mouth quirked into a lazy smile and the broad fingers tugged playfully at his fringe. "When he tastes the freedom, the healing of the full moon with the pack, without wolfsbane he won't have any reservations," Fenrir said simply, completely believing his words. "I think pack life would be too overwhelming day to day, but that's why Eithne will arrange to have the house built after his first moon here. He can come and go as one of us as he pleases. His kid and mate can even use the floo to come here, if they don't want to walk all the way."
Harry stared. "I know you always wanted to do right by Remus," he began, but before he could finish, something in Fenrir's eyes stalled his words.
"He's important to you as well," Fenrir said bluntly. "You're so blindingly selfless, if your little friends are happy and easily accessible then you're happy. That's as much inspiration as wanting to…try and undo some of the evil I did to him."
Harry wanted to argue that what had happened then had been a misunderstanding, but he knew Fenrir wouldn't appreciate it right now. So instead he turned fully in the man's arms and rested his forehead against his mate's chin. "I do love you," he said, hoping the words would chase away the darkness clouding Fenrir's eyes. He felt the arms around him tighten at little. "It took me a long time to realise what it was I was feeling."
Fenrir said nothing in answer, but that was fine, he'd never be a man of words and Harry already knew the things he really needed to hear. They lay there like that for a moment, until Kirian woke them with a pitiful cry and they both rose, Harry pulling on his trousers as he picked up Kirian and Fenrir moving naked into their bed, where he sprawled lazily, stretching as he watched Harry approach. Ghost licked Harry's elbow on his way up to lay on the foot of the bed, making Harry smirk as he relaxed back against the heap of cushions at the head, bringing Kirian to his chest without a thought.
Perhaps it was because he was still exhausted from everything that had happened as well as his well-deserved orgasm, but it took him a moment to realise that Fenrir was propped up on one elbow. Watching Kirian feed thoughtfully, Fenrir was brushing his knuckles down one of their little bludger's chubby legs.
"Alright?" Harry asked, still a little embarrassed at being watched while he did…this, he didn't want to ruin the moment or their newfound openness by hiding. Resigned to the fact that there were some things he'd still find embarrassing, no matter how much sex he had or how in tune with his wolf he became, he cupped Kirian's back with one hand and reached out to flick Fenrir on the chin smartly. "Hey."
Fenrir blinked. "Yeah," he murmured, eyes flicking up to meet Harry's. "I was just thinking, how I missed so much when he was born, that's all," he finished roughly.
Harry's mouth twisted, thinking of the moments that should have been, but had been stolen from them by circumstance. He glanced down to Kirian's content face as he fed. "You came as soon as you could," he said, but when his gaze locked on Fenrir's face again, the man looked apprehensive of what he was about to say.
"Would you ever have more?" Fenrir asked at last, voice as gravelly as ever, his face unreadable but his uncertainty licking at the bond loud and clear.
Harry frowned, brushing Kirian's soft hair back with his fingers. "I love him," Harry said honestly. "I didn't realise how much I would. But I'm…I still don't know about that whole pregnancy thing and giving birth and all this it's…it's emasculating. It makes me feel like a woman and I don't like it. But I do love having him, I do…sort of like feeding him, in the way that it's a bond only he and I can have. But I really don't know if I want to do it all again – I'm still looking forward to getting chest hair back." The last of his words at least seemed to soothe the disappointment evident on Fenrir's face. He couldn't help but smile at the inane comment.
Harry thought about the pictures that sat in the lounging area of their den, seen but never spoken about. He thought of the four young children standing around a teenage Fenrir's feet and then also about what Eithne had said about how Shae had had years to get used to the idea of what carrying children would do to him before he actually did it.
"I really don't know how I'll feel about it a year from now," Harry admitted, having matured enough to realise that people changed with time, if he and Draco bloody Malfoy were anything to go by anyway. He smiled at the thought and met Fenrir's eyes, seeing the barely concealed hope in them. "Two years from now, five years from now I might think differently. I can't really think about it now – so much has happened and–"
Not for the first time that evening, Fenrir's mouth silenced his words with a slow, languid kiss that had absolutely nothing to do with sex. There was no tongue, only mouths brushing gently together and then sliding away so that their eyes could meet. "I didn't mean right now," Fenrir said, low and warm. "I just wanted to know if there was hope, that's all."
Harry smirked. "If seeing Draco Malfoy spawn running around doesn't put you off more," he couldn't help but add.
Fenrir snorted. "Hopefully the Echo in their litter will overwhelm the Malfoy," he mused, tone as playful and amused as Harry.
"I can tell you now I won't be having five like your Dad did," Harry said quickly, much to Fenrir's amusement. "And it may not be any time soon. I may not feel ready for a long time – if ever." He was only eighteen. He wouldn't give Kirian up for the world but he wanted to live now, to experience the things he'd been unable to as much as possible. More children hadn't even occurred to him until Fenrir had asked. But one look at the brightness in those blue eyes told him Fenrir was more than happy to wait.
"We'll just have to keep practicing the human way until then," the alpha chuckled, much to Harry's mortification.
After Kirian had drifted off again, Harry slid him gently off his chest and into Fenrir's arms, pushing up off the bed and pulling on his discarded shirt and glasses.
"Where you going?" Fenrir asked, sounding a little bit sleepy and confused. Harry wondered if he'd slept at all while they'd been apart, he'd never seen Fenrir look so tired – and he was still bearing the wounds from the battle too.
"Remus will be taking Ron and Hermione home soon, I want to say goodnight," he explained, heading over to the door. Ghost leapt off the bed and bounded after him, he slunk out the door first but Harry hesitated, turning back. The semi-transparent curtain around the bed prevented him from seeing Fenrir clearly but he knew he could hear him. "I'll be back," he said, for some reason just needing Fenrir to know that he wasn't being abandoned or coming second to Harry's friends.
The curtain was tugged aside by the length of one arm and Harry caught sight of him and a sleeping Kirian. "I know," Fenrir said sincerely. "Now hurry your arse up or we'll be falling asleep in the middle of the bed."
Harry's smile stayed with him as he headed out into the night with Ghost at his side. The festivities were still going, the valley filled with merriment and dancing flames, music and laughter. He saw Hermione being turned round the stone courtyard by Hemming while Accalia, Ron and Remus were locked in rapt conversation. Echo and Draco were nowhere to be seen and Harry thought they'd snuck off to be alone much the same way he and Fenrir had. Larentia was bright-faced and Amoux had vanished probably to put Vilkas to bed. Marrok was swinging Raquelle round through the dancing bodies and Lupa was sitting beside her mate, talking quietly.
Thinking of Ulric, wondering what he would be thinking of humans blending so perfectly with their pack life, Harry smiled sadly and tipped his head skyward, letting the clear, unpolluted blanket of stars act as a balm to his bittersweet thoughts. "We're all okay," he murmured to the heavens, then returned his gaze to the festivities around the fire once more, seeing Hermione, Ron and Remus look up at him one by one as he approached them. Everything is going to be ok.
~To Be Continued...