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Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)
Harry's eyes betrayed him. They lowered their gaze down the dark robe to see the outline of her nipples pressed against the silky material. She caught his gaze and Harry felt his cheeks heat up as a knowing smile appeared on his mother's lips. Feeling like a stranded animal, he retreated to the railing as she came closer, the scent of her floral perfume suddenly overpowering him, and his head was filled with wicked thoughts that supplanted the desire to escape.
"Heaven knows I tried to protect you from this, Harry," she said in a trembling voice. "I don't know what this could do to you in the future... but I have no choice... We can't afford to lose you," she said. Her words made no sense, and Harry opened his mouth to argue, but her next words stopped his tongue. "For a brief moment, I knew a love that was real, but nothing more.
As he pondered the strangeness of these words, Mom's hand came down on his shoulder. He shuddered at the touch, staring at her hand resting on his bare skin like a living viper. After more than three years of the ban, breaking it so easily embarrassed him and anger was already building up inside him. But when he looked at his mother, her eyes were closed and silent tears were running down her cheeks.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Harry Potter snapped, pulling his hand back and rubbing the spot where her fingers had rested. His skin tingled, and the outline of each finger on his body was etched into his memory as he moved away from her. "I thought you were allergic to me or something? Wasn't touching your stepson off-limits too, or was that another lie?"
His anger was building, and he had no desire to hold it back. But when her eyes opened, she stared at him with such shock and something even less definable written on her beautiful features that his anger dissipated.
"Are you still mad at me?" she asked, shocked with each word. "Are you still mad at me..." Shock turned into astonishment, and before he could react, she reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, stretching her lips into an indulgent smile, his only reaction being a furrowed brow.
"Everything alright, Mom? You're freaking me out..."
His voice cut off when she yanked him forward and hugged him tightly. For a woman as slender as a willow, she displayed surprising strength as she held him firmly, and although he wanted to remain angry, it proved impossible when he reciprocated his stepmother's embrace. It was strange to hug his mother for the first time, standing in the hallway with a backpack strapped to his back, but it wasn't unpleasant.
The oddity lasted only a moment before he noticed her body pressed against his, and panic washed over him as he realized he was responding. Her floral perfumes filled his head with strange thoughts, and her touch in his arms even more so. He released her and attempted to step back. His mother held him for another moment, his ribs creaking as she gripped him tightly, then let him go and stepped back, wiping another tear from her cheeks.
Unlike before, she wasn't crying out of sadness. Joy was written all over her face, and her eyes were wide open with an astonishment he couldn't comprehend.
"I always knew it would be you, Harry, but I couldn't be sure until tonight... And I wouldn't risk what it might do to you." Her pale green eyes gathered moonlight, shining with inner light as she stood to her full height. "I'm sorry, but we can't let you leave us, my son. You're too precious to lose."
"Give me one good reason why I should stay," Harry said, but a part of his soul already knew he wouldn't escape. His anger had dulled, but her strange words had awakened an echo within him. He reached for his phone and opened a message. "This ticket is non-refundable, and I'll be in Paris in three days unless you convince me."
She furrowed her brow and looked at his message, and he could see her mind racing. It wasn't a cry for attention, and she could read it from his expression.
"You're becoming a man in two days," she finally said. "Give us until the weekend to persuade you to stay."
"Us? Gabrielle and Fleur couldn't care less about me."
"That's not true," she said with surprising fierceness, her eyes flashing with his anger. "They love you more than life itself, and they're determined to prove it, I promise."
Harry furrowed his brow, uncertain if he could ever believe that his sisters would actually like him.
"There are things you don't understand, Harry," she said, and he thought she would say more, but her teeth clenched, and she shook her head, her words laced with frustration as she continued. "I can't do it. Hurzak!" She uttered the last word in a guttural language. She often cursed in it, and when he asked, she claimed it was Hungarian, but it was not found in any dictionary he tried to check for its meaning. There was a result for an ancient barbarian dialect, but it was recorded in the annals of Rome, and he was sure that couldn't be true. Why would his mom curse in a 2000-year-old language?
Sighing, her face relaxed, and she reached out her hand again, resting her fingers on his cheek. Her eyes filled with amazement, and he struggled not to think about the body trapped beneath the silk, centimeters from his own.
"Do you know how incredibly rare you are?" Harry heard her say with genuine astonishment in her voice as she watched her fingers trace the line of his jaw. "I prayed... to every god who would listen, for it to be you and not him... I couldn't let myself believe it when I saw the signs..." When she saw his discomfort, she blinked and withdrew her fingers as if burned, moving away from him and pressing her hand to her stomach, licking her lips. "Give us a week to prove that you belong with us, please, Harry."
"Alright," he agreed, "but then I'm leaving."
"I understand. I'll even sign the forms right now, so you don't have to worry." Guilt washed over him, and he winced. "You've already forged my signature, haven't you?" She took a deep breath, and he could see her wanting to deny it, but she hid it and nodded. "We'll talk about it in the morning." The sentence was familiar, but not as warmly spoken as before, and he allowed himself to relax.
"I promise it will get better, Harry." Pulling her bathrobe tight, his mom headed for the stairs. As the silky fabric tightened, it clung to her body, and he felt his mouth dry up as he pressed his cheeks against her behind. She turned before stepping into the shadows, twisting her lips into a faint smile. "You'll see, dear. You'll get everything you've ever dreamed of... and more."
Walking away with a mysterious smile, Harry returned to his room, feeling disoriented and warmer than the weather indicated. Getting into bed, he was so disoriented that he didn't even get into his usual self-loathing, for the first time, before falling asleep.
When Harry woke up late the next morning, he didn't feel as quick as the previous night, and he chalked up his momentary madness to being lost. However, he couldn't shake the strange comments his mom had made, and all morning he felt the ghost of her touch on his cheek. He finished his chores and took a shower, getting ready to go to a friend's place to play basketball when Gabrielle burst out of the bathroom.
"Hey, knock first!" he said, pulling his towel and hastily wrapping it around himself.
"As if I care what you're wearing," Gabrielle said, but her eyes betrayed her words, and Harry shifted uncomfortably as they remained fixed on the long outline of his manhood beneath the towel.
"What do you want? I'm getting ready."
"Mom told me about what happened last night... Do you want to talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about. She's not letting me leave for a week anyway. So you'll be fed."
"Harry, I don't care about that," she said, her face contorted with anger as she entered the bathroom and gestured emphatically. "You can't leave us. We love you."
"Why don't I believe you?" Harry asked, feeling uneasy as he realized the warmth emanating from Gabrielle's body. "You and Fleur hardly ever talk to me. You've never shown up at my school or come to watch my games. Why should I think it's any different now?"
"We've always cared. Gabrielle's voice was stiff, but Harry could read the pain that pierced his heart in it. "You may not understand why we can't show it... but you will. She nodded firmly and moved away from him. For a moment, it seemed like she was going to reach out and touch him, but instead, she clenched her hands in front of her. "You'll understand soon. Why we needed you to prepare meals for us and why we can't touch you, for your own good."
"Another lie," Harry said, feeling his upper lip curl in a grimace.
"It's true, Harry." Her sincerity made him want to believe her, but he shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to ignore how her eyes reflected off his groin when he stepped back.
"Why did Mom touch my cheek last night and hug me?" Harry Potter asked, his confusion evident.
Gabrielle's face twisted in embarrassment, and Harry raised his hand in disgust, pushing past her and leaving the bathroom. Ignoring long-standing taboos, his hand brushed against her arm as she tried to move away. At the moment he did, her scent filled his head, different from his mother's but similar and equally powerful. Her face contorted with a look of terror and deep sadness, causing him to freeze in place and furrow his brow.
"You too? Mom had the same expression. What's going on with you guys?"
The women in his family had been acting crazy lately, and he couldn't wait to get away from them. Putting on shorts and running shoes, he went for a jog. Ever since he was young, jogging had always cleared his mind. Cross country running wasn't a popular sport in high school, but it kept him in great shape until basketball season, and he always placed well in races. He had a usual route: he ran towards the orchards and along the county roads before heading back home. The usual five miles didn't seem like enough today. His limbs pulsed with energy, so he turned northward and headed for the hills. He had never jogged in the hills before, and he wasn't sure what compelled him to do it, but he ran tirelessly for hours.
The sun was shining, and his back was burning, sweat trickled down his forehead as he reached the top of a small hill. The Country Club wound through these hills, and the golf course was home to some of the nicest houses in town. On the hills he was running through, there were even richer estates, and he walked past one of them, checking his watch to see how far he had to go.
Chapters 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 are already on Pa tr eon
If you would like to read the next chapters faster, see exclusive content, or support my work, please visit
Pat re on. c om(slash)belleveela(delete spaces)