- Here you go, Cub, my village.
Harry looked around. The houses, a little over twenty, were rudimentary but seemed warm, made of stone and thatched roofs. Children were playing, running everywhere between busy adults, some carrying impressive loads. They had just spent half an hour walking in the forest and the trees that surrounded the village were huge, protecting it and isolating it from the outside world.
- The village is entirely autonomous. Everything we need, we produce. Food, clothing, furniture… You will sleep in my house, with my mate, Ignata.
Fenrir pointed to the central house, more imposing than the others and the only one surrounded by a small barrier delimiting the land. A woman with long brown hair and wearing a beige dress so long that it touched the floor was washing laundry beside the door. She looked up and a big smile appeared on her delicate face as her amber eyes seemed to register the face of the man in front of her.
- Fenrir! I feel like you've been gone three moons!
- Ignata, I left less than a week ago…
- I don't care!
The woman let the shirt she was washing fall into the basin of water in front of her and threw herself into the alpha's arms.
- Ignata, this is Harry. He will stay with us until the start of the school year at Hogwarts.
Ignata stepped back from his wolf to watch Harry. Her gaze stopped for a split second on his green eyes and his scar.
-Harry Potter. Pleased, I am Ignata, Fenrir's wife. And may I know the reason for your presence among us?
Her tone was not aggressive but suspicious. Werewolves suffered greatly from the preconceptions of wizards against them. Welcoming one of them into the village was not without consequences although no one would risk going against the alpha, not even his wife.
- Nice to meet you ma'am. Fenrir was kind enough to invite me after a disagreement with my family. I hope my presence will not bother you too much.
Fenrir raised an eyebrow, surprised. The Harry he had next to him was not the same one he knew. This Harry was overly polite, showing respect and a certain timidity in his gestures. The Harry he'd come to know in the past few days speaks without mincing words, and the word 'shyness' didn't seem to be in his vocabulary. He had even heard him swear like a carter at a hag who had tried to set a trap for him the day before when he was walking in Knockturn Alley.
Worse, the boy's very scent had changed. He felt embarrassment and a hint of fear. But Fenrir knew perfectly well that a kid who wasn't afraid to confront a hag in the middle of the Alley was certainly not afraid of his wife. On the full moon, maybe, but not in her human form. The kid was that good of an actor?
- Ok, so you're gonna drop that tone with me, boy. You're not at school there.I'm not "ma'am", I'm Ignata. And of course you won't get in the way, children are sacred to us. Come on, follow me, I'll show you your room.
Fenrir was even more incredulous. He had never seen his wife bend so quickly in front of anyone. Well, he had never seen anyone speak so politely to his sweet Ignata either. How did the kid know that would be the right attitude to curry favor with her? He had survival instincts written in his genes, it was not possible otherwise.
Shrugging, he followed his wife and the boy into his house. He was proud of this house he had built himself. If the houses of the village had only one ground floor, his had a floor with three bedrooms and a perfectly functional bathroom. The most complicated thing had been to connect his village to a drinking water network. Of course, most of the wolves present could do magic and casting a few Aguamenti or other Scouring spells was no problem, but it was so much nicer to take a hot shower after a long day's work.
Ignata led Harry to the guest bedroom while explaining the rules to him. There weren't many, mainly respecting meal times and the importance of keeping his room clean and tidy.
The bedroom was plain, containing only a single bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers, with no decoration. It had never been used before but not a dust bunny was lying on the floor, much to Harry's delight.
- Fine, kid. Put your things down and meet me outside, I'll introduce you to my betas. You will see, by the end of the holidays, your twigs of limbs will have grown.
Harry pouted, looking down at his arms. Indeed, if he was effective with a wand, he did not really have an effective musculature. His legs were stronger from the many times he'd run to escape Dudley, but his arms…doing the dishes or weeding the garden didn't really build strength.
Once his clothes were neatly put away in the closet, the boy went downstairs and left the house.
He saw Fenrir accompanied by two shirtless men. One was tall, broad, and dark haired, the other was short, broad, and blond. Both had the typical werewolf amber eyes and had several scars on their arms and chest.
- Cub, let me introduce you to Marc, he indicated, pointing to the blonde with his thumb, and Daniel, he added, pointing to the brunette. They are my betas and they are the ones who will take care of your training. Mark, Daniel, it's Harry. You're going to pump up his muscles. He is staying with us until the start of the school year.
The two men nodded then circled around Harry, watching him and judging his appearance.
- Okay, kid. We're going to go gradually so that you don't mess something up. You got clothes that suck?
Harry nodded, again looking shy. At the same time, he was forming plans in his head. Seeming shy during the meeting, gradually taking more liberties, testing the limits in a subtle way to see where he could stand in relation to these two wolves.
.oOÔOo.
- That's good kid! It's only been a week and you can already carry a bag of flour with much less difficulty than when you started!
Harry's physical training consisted mostly of physical tasks useful to the pack. Thus, he participated in the life of the village while gradually developing his muscles. A week of this diet was already paying off. He knew that Fenrir also wanted to train him in hand-to-hand combat but that would still have to wait. At the moment, the boy was too exhausted from his many chores to do anything but read a little before collapsing into bed.
Fenrir and Ignata had welcomed Harry into their home very warmly. If lunch was often taken outside, often a quick meal taken between two jobs to do, breakfast and dinner were always taken together. Harry had opened up a little more to the wolf but still kept the mask of an innocent and impressionable child in front of her. He had no particular affection for her, but he still wanted to have a good time during his stay.
You would have thought Harry, with his past, would complain about the manual labor he had to do on a daily basis and pounce on the person who seemed capable of giving him a motherly affection he never had. But Harry had long since given up the craving for a loving parent or a motherly hug, and the work he was doing allowed him to grow stronger, which would improve his chances of survival. No more no less.
Only four people mattered to him.
Voldemort who had taken him under his wing when he was eleven years old. There was a connection with him that happened almost naturally. Harry couldn't explain it but he felt closer to him than anyone else. He had called him the very evening of his arrival in the village. Voldemort had seemed genuinely worried about him for what had happened the day he had sent Fenrir to recover his diary. Harry hadn't seen the man since the end of his first year at Hogwarts and he missed his presence terribly more than he expected, as if he missed a part of himself.
The second person was obviously Luna. It had been a complete surprise. He didn't know what attracted him to the girl, maybe her wacky side or her air of coming from another world. Still, he instinctively knew he could trust her. If she couldn't accompany him in a battle, he knew she would always have his back. He had no romantic feelings for her, but if he had to choose one word to describe her, it would be "soul mate", in a purely platonic way.
Fenrir, of course, was the third. The night he had hugged her after Ripper's attack, a bond had formed between them. Maybe it was the nature of the wolf, maybe it was just an adrenaline rush at the time… Regardless, a bond had formed and it seemed powerful. Harry would not go so far as to say that it was a paternal bond but rather a need for protection from the oldest towards him. For his part, the boy had immense respect for the wolf.
The week spent at the apartment and the one spent in the village had allowed Sirius and Harry to get to know each other. Again, it was not a filial relationship, the boy did not see the man as a surrogate father. Sirius was struggling to recover from his time in Azkaban and Harry helped him a lot during their discussions while Sirius tried to understand the history of his godson, to understand how the smiling baby he had known had become this expert teenager at hiding his emotions and possessing such a survival instinct.
The other people, Harry saw them differently. They were either enemies, in which case he judged whether it was best to confront them, manipulate them, or flee from them, or tools he could use for his own good.
.oOÔOo.
- Cub.
- Yes, Fenrir?
Harry looked up from his book. After almost two weeks of hard work, he was finally granted a day off. He had spent the day reading the books he had bought during his short stay in Knockturn Alley and was currently devouring the book about the runes of various long-dead civilisations. He tried to compare them to each other, judging the benefits of each runic alphabet in order to determine in which cases one was better than the other. The Mayan runes, for example, did not have at all the same nature as the Celtic runes and were more advantageous if one wished to use them for all that related to the stars, therefore to temporality, each moment being determined by the position of the stars in the sky.
- I don't know if you paid attention to the calendar, but it's a full moon tonight.
Harry's eyes widened. He really hadn't been paying attention. Tonight, all the people in the village who had treated him so well since his arrival were going to turn into bloodthirsty wolves who would not hesitate to attack him. He couldn't do anything against fifty werewolves.
Seeing the panic in the boy's eyes, Fenrir smiled at him.
- Don't worry, kid. Do you think I'm going to let something happen to you in my own village?
- How?
He didn't need to say more, the wolf understood the question.
- Ok, so first you don't leave your room. You keep Black with you, he has nothing to fear in his dog form. And…ahem. You will have to wear my scent so that everyone, including me, knows that you are untouchable.
- Your scent?
- My scent. Do you know how wolves mark their territory? Well, I have to mark you as my territory.
- You… you mean… Seriously?
- Yeah. It's not terrible but there will be no more powerful protection for tonight.
Harry lowered his head. He was ready to do anything to survive, he knew that. And the fact that he wasn't so reluctant showed that he was REALLY ready for anything.
- Okay… okay… When?
- An hour before dark, that should do it. And you go shower at dawn, of course.
Dinner that day passed in silence. Even Ignata, who was usually quite talkative, didn't say a word about the meal.
Harry and Fenrir walked towards the bedroom, followed by Sirius who seemed to laugh, as much as a dog can seem to laugh.
Fenrir came out of the room, his cheeks burning. He had been a werewolf for many years and there wasn't so much to embarrass him anymore, but pissing on a kid to protect him was something else.
Harry glared at Sirius who was convulsing on his back as he laughed.
- That's it, have fun. You better teach me quickly how to become an Animagus. I can't even go to bed, I don't want this smell to get stuck in my sheets. To say that we will have to do this again in August...
Harry grabbed the book he was reading earlier and settled on the floor. It wouldn't be the first night he'd slept in this position, after all, and he didn't even have an injury to keep him from getting comfortable.
As disgusting as the method was, it was effective and no wolf came near his room all night.
As soon as the first ray of sunshine appeared, Harry ran into the bathroom to take a very long, very hot shower.
.oOÔOo.
Let's see what's happened at Privet Drive since that night.
- PET! Why is breakfast not ready?
- I can't find the freak, Vernon. He's not in his room. Besides, I didn't see him come home last night.
The couple looked at each other. A murderer was on the loose nearby and their nephew had not returned.
- You think that…
- No ! No no no ! He... he just went for a walk. You'll remind him of the rules when he gets back.
The couple jumped when they heard a "RIPPER!" boomed from Marge's room. It didn't take long for her to come down the stairs, wearing a dressing gown over her nightgown.
- Where's Ripper? He's not in my room!
- Your dog? The one who left a turd on the living room rug and peed on our shoes? Marge, I thought Ripper was well trained but...
- WHAT? RIPPER WOULD NEVER DO THIS!
Petunia snorted disdainfully. If it had been up to her, an animal as dirty as a dog would never have set foot in her house. But she was Vernon's sister so she had no say.
- I don't know where Ripper is, Marjorie. You may have left it outside last night, the freak is not there either. Ripper may have stuck him in a tree like he did a few years ago.
Marge sped to her room and came down fully dressed. Again, Petunia sniffled, her sister-in-law hadn't even bothered to shower. And, drunk as she had been the night before, she must not have a wash before going to sleep either. Luckily her Vernon had impeccable hygiene or she would never have married him. Cleanliness was her obsession, even more so than gossip. It was actually the only thing she gave her good-for-nothing nephew: no matter what state he was in, no matter if his chores were done or not, she let him have a shower every day and unlimited access to kitchen soap.
Marge stormed out, calling her hound's name in her horrible rattling voice. She was slowly moving away, calling "Ripper" every three seconds.
After a quarter of an hour, Petunia, who was making breakfast so her Duddykins wouldn't be hungry when he woke up (it was almost eleven o'clock, after all), was surprised to hear the voice of his sister-in-law shouting "NOOOOO".
Marge returned, carrying the bloody corpse of her dog in her arms. Vernon ran to her side to support her. Dudley, who was coming down the stairs at the time, glanced at the dog, shrugged, and joined his mother in the kitchen to eat.
After hours of talking in order to comfort the "poor" woman, Marge and Vernon deduce that she had left Ripper outside the day before and that he had fought another dog.
Harry's disappearance was quickly forgotten, they had a funeral to plan and Marge absolutely wanted her sweet Ripper to be buried in her garden. So the four Dursleys packed up and drove off, not seeing the old woman who was watching their departure from afar.
.oOÔOo.
Arabela Figg reported the Dursleys' departure to Dumbledore.
The latter consulted his instruments and, noting the absence of the boy in the house, deduced that he had accompanied them. So much the better, for once they were taking the boy on vacation. He had feared for many years that Petunia was too bitter towards Lily to properly care for Harry, but it seemed like they were finally able to bond.
And then, the boy was balanced, well dressed, polite… Must have been because she had still managed to educate him better than he expected. Some of the guilt he felt for leaving the child with his aunt lifted from his shoulders.
Smiling, Albus Dumbledore popped a candy into his mouth before getting back to work humming.
.oOÔOo.
The weeks went by for Harry. His birthday was a small event in the village, everyone wishing him kindly. Ignata had baked him a cake for dinner and Fenrir presented him with a wooden wolf figurine he had carved himself. Sirius just wished him warmly, promising to get him something as soon as he could. Having to stay in his canine form most of the time didn't allow him to go shopping.
Fenrir had begun training him in unarmed combat, and while he would never be as strong as the werewolf, Harry was learning fast. His punches landed most of the time, and his agility allowed him to dodge effectively.
A week after his birthday, in addition to carrying heavier and heavier loads, Harry was tasked with helping a new family build their house.
Building a house from the materials available nearby presented a certain challenge. He had to help two wolves to cut stones in the quarry which was a few kilometers from the village before bringing the stones back to the village.
Only purely physical tasks were assigned to him, finishing touches and small jobs were reserved for wolves who had some expertise in the field of construction but he liked to see the house coming out of the ground little by little. It was the first time he participated in the construction of something and it was a feeling that he appreciated.
He saw his body change over the days. His muscles had grown in width and were more and more defined. He was far from having a body builder physique but all the same, it worried him a little about school. He already had a horde of admirers, Ginerva Weasley in the lead, and he feared that his physique would attract even more unwanted attention.
It was Voldemort who brought him the solution, a few days before the start of the school year. Harry was already comfortably settled in his bed when he felt his bracelet vibrate.
- Mirus. Hello Marvolo!
- Ah, young Mirus, how are you?
- Pretty good. Thank you for the course books, I received them yesterday. Those were the ones I was missing.
- It was nothing. I have a feeling your Defense teacher won't be incompetent next year. At least he picked out a book that looks pretty comprehensive.
- Yes, I leafed through it and it's true that it's not bad. Anyway, it's hard to do worse than the peacock we had last year... Fortunately, he didn't finish the year, that one.
- Ahh, that's true. I heard he ended up in Azkaban. He hadn't lived any of the stories he wrote, ultimately only stole the stories before casting an Oblivion spell on his victims. Who knew being interrogated under Veritaserum for his frivolous affairs with his students would unearth all of this?
- A clown, this guy, anyway. It was obvious like the nose in the middle of the face that he had not really done all that he wrote.
- Tell me, do you feel ready to go back to Hogwarts soon?
- Yeah. I can't wait to see Luna again. I haven't communicated much with her and I'm sure she has tons of things to tell me. The lessons… I hope they will be more interesting than last year. With the options, I hope I have to think a little more.
- Mirus, you know it's not the teachers fault if you practice outside of their class and get ahead of their lesson plans, hmm?
- Yeah, yeah, I know. Say, do you think if I mess around in class, Snape will finally leave me alone?
- Oh! Knowing his character, it wouldn't change anything. He has a grudge against James Potter and you look like him.
- How come, by the way? I'm adopted but I look like my adoptive father?
- Probably a glamor linked to your blood. Normally, it's definitive but I'll do some research if you want to get back the look you should have had. There must be a solution, I'm sure.
- I'm not in a hurry but I would appreciate having the option. If, one day, being Harry Potter becomes too dangerous, it would be nice if he could disappear.
- I confess that I was hoping you would say that. The old goat doesn't know I've come back yet, but it won't last forever. And the day he finds out I'm back, he'll try to make you his weapon against me.
- Oh, let me guess. He wants to make me the banner of the side of the Light! The young hero with a tragic past who must save his people from the threat you represent, the brave boy who will serve to rally the wizards aginst evil. And in all this, he would play the old mentor, weakened by age but always ready to defend the widow and the orphan. Well, as long as I'm not the orphan in question.
- It looks like him, yes, totally a plan he is capable of.
- And so, he does that and, poof, Harry Potter disappears. People panic and lose hope in the Light and turn to you.
- You understood everything Mirus. And I am gaining a young man of many talents that no one can relate to Harry Potter. And you will be safe.
- Speaking of looks, I have a problem. Fenrir's training has been very effective and I have already had to alter my clothes several times.
- Do you want me to send you some more suitable ones?
- No, it's fine, that's not the problem. The problem is that my physique will attract even more attention than before and, frankly, I'm not waiting for that to happen.
Harry waited patiently for Voldemort to stop laughing as he imagined Harry Potter fans drooling over his muscles. Once the crisis passed, the oldest promised to send the youngest a ring on which he would have applied a spell of glamor that would change nothing but this aspect. Thus, for the student population, Harry Potter would always be a skinny little teenager.
They talked for a long time. In order to save Harry from having to return to the Dursleys the following year, it was decided that Sirius' innocence had to be proven. It was Voldemort himself who designated the plan that would allow this. For this, Sirius would have to stay at Fenrir Village to prevent him from getting caught and handed over to the Dementors before they could help him.