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What Are You Worth?	By : kati Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 109051 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Two

Harry's dusty satchel did not contain many things. It was old and needed replacing. He clutched it to his chest whilst his father whispered to his brothers in the main doorway.

Harry remembered fondly how kind Paul had been the previous night; he had not reprimanded him for asking foolish questions, even though he probably should have. Harry wondered if maybe his brothers did not hate him quite as much as his father did. Harry watched Paul's eyes now, dark and hollow with worry as their father spoke to him in low tones.

Harry wondered if perhaps he was to die on this trip. Was his father telling his brothers to eliminate him at this very moment? Harry hoped that if his father's wishes would lead to his death, that then his brothers would defy him. As soon as he thought this he bit his lip in regret; it was selfish to wish for his own safety when it would undoubtedly lead to someone else's pain. For James would punish anyone that did not obey him.

Harry hoped that with this journey, his situation would change. He hoped that he would meet new people, new paths, and a better future. Perhaps he could escape his father and his past with this journey. He had a very good feeling.

His feelings were reinforced as they ventured out into the world, and traversed the dusty path of the forest that surrounded the manor. Harry could feel the great, heavy weight of the manor's shadow becoming lighter and lighter the farther they walked.

It was a crisp and fresh Spring morning and the air was pleasantly wet. Diamonds of dew hung from every leaf and sunlight broke through the silvery foliage of the ash and rowan trees in far-reaching arms. The soft curly fronds of the new ferns brushed Harry's legs and left wet kisses that tingled in the cold air as he floated by. The laughing lambs were noisy in their green fields, exploring a surprising world on weak and fragile legs that would one day grow strong and agile. Until then, they would make their mistakes.

Harry was delighted with this new freedom; he had seldom been allowed to leave the manor for anything except school and orchestra rehearsals. Harry played the guitar, and though he had never really excelled at it, he enjoyed playing.

His heart felt light despite the uncertain circumstances. He told himself to be wary but could not bring himself to suspect his brothers' behaviour. They were quiet and uneasy in the flat Spring sunshine.

By the time the sun was setting, Harry was exhausted. They were camped in a small clearing in the dark depths of the forest. Harry listened to the strangely relaxing cries of the forest wildlife in silence.

As soon as they had stopped, Harry had begun to hastily set up their tent in case of rain -- werewolves did not pay much mind to the cold as their internal body temperature was considerably higher than humans. This was one of the major factors that had lead human scientists to believe that the werewolf gene was a virus that needed to be controlled. By extermination. The following war had been short-lived and pointless, and now the each race steadily ignored the other.

Harry had been surprised and a little upset when Caspian had insisted that Harry rest, and had proceeded to finish setting up camp himself; honestly, he knew that he was a burden to them, and there wasn't much that he could offer. The least that he could do for his brothers was look after their earthly needs. It was times like these that Harry wished desperately that speech came as fluidly to him as it did to others. If only he could express his feelings! If only he wasn't so scared all the time... Why couldn't he be stronger? More useful? It was bad enough that, as a submissive, no great things were expected of him without he, himself, proving that the oppressive views of a submissive's worth to be completely justified!

He watched how his brothers worked together, as a well-oiled machine. Each doing a job, uncomplaining and efficient. Why was he excluded from that? Because he was useless!

He could feel a morose mood coming on; he turned his thoughts to other things before he could get too upset. It was hard not to be introverted though when no one would communicate with him!

Harry had really enjoyed travelling through the countryside; it was a beautiful area and the glory of spring-time had been all around him. His brothers' moods were disconcerting however, and as they had moved further into the thickening woods, Harry had felt his elation subside slightly with the lack of sunlight.

They were settling down for the night. Harry would share the tent with all of his brothers, snuggled up together in the sparse blankets and tiny floor space. Harry had to admit to himself, he was looking forward to the intimacy; he could not remember the last time someone had touched him in kindness.

"Harry?" The seventeen-year-old jerked at Richard's rough voice and caught his gaze shyly. "We're going to bed now." He held open the sludge-green tent flap for his younger brother. Harry nodded once and slipped inside. He hunkered down uncertainly in the corner of the tent and waited for everyone to settle down in their own time.

Harry could tell by the soft groan of Paul as he flexed his shoulders that his bag must be very heavy. Harry thought of his small and light satchel guiltily and resolved to help carry some of Paul's load tomorrow.

The three bulky dominants settled on the lumpy ground, huddled together companionably. Harry hesitated, but Caspian soon murmured, "Harry, c'mere little one." Harry's eyes widened at the unfamiliar nickname and a truly joyful smile lit his features that his brothers would have been astounded to see if they had not been turned away.

Harry hastily slithered his way over to the second oldest sibling of the Potter pack and slotted himself in front of him with Richard's wide back before him. Harry's body was tense, feeling a nuisance at taking up more space. Honestly, his brothers didn't even like him--

Harry's train of thought was cut off as Caspian slung a bulky arm over his hip and pulled him back against his front. Harry said nothing but was silently joyous. He curled up a little more comfortably and closed his eyes. The intimacy he had been so looking forward to was even better than he had imagined it would be.

No one spoke for an indiscernible amount of time. Caspian was trying to work up the courage to speak. He could feel Harry's bones through his skin and it upset him more than he had ever thought possible.

"Come on! Your father isn't here right now; he'll never know! He's not going to hurt you, and this may be one of the last times that you will ever see your baby brother. After the Mating Ceremony, he'll be... gone. At least, it will be better if he is. He is in danger at the Potter Manor. If he is not mated after the Ceremony, I will take him away with me. We will run away." The image of a murderous James flashed before his hazel eyes briefly, before being blown away by Harry's soft sigh of contentment as he subtly wriggled back more into Caspian's hold.

Caspian felt the wetness in his eyes sting sharply as more liquid gathered. He was horrified at himself and hoped that nobody would notice, but his little brother's innocent and desperate action spurred him to speak as he felt a warm rush of affection for him.

The words he had always wanted to say: "I love you, Harry."

His other brothers were asleep apparently, as they said nothing and did not stir. He felt Harry tense once more. Harry turned around in his grasp slowly, as if trying not to disturb anyone. As if afraid, if he moved too sharply, Caspian would awake from his dream and throw the small body from him in disgust and take back his lovely words.

Harry's shocking green gaze held Caspian's properly for perhaps the first time in either of their lives in disbelief, not even daring to hope.

Caspian repeated himself firmly, "I love you, Harry. You are wonderful."

Suddenly his little brother's eyes filled with a tentative trust and a soaring joy. He put a small hand on his brother's firm chest carefully, unused to the action. He stared at his own hand for a full minute in wonder, then caught his most emotional brother's eyes in a confident stare.

"I love you, Caspian." His voice did not waver. He smiled widely, flashing his sharp, white teeth unashamedly, before tucking his head under Caspian's bristly chin and settling down to sleep. Though he wasn't sure he could now. He had never been so happy in his whole existence.

Caspian was pleasantly shocked at his usually so fraught and wary brother's confident actions. Harry was always questioning himself, unsure what behaviour was acceptable or welcome and what would result in punishment. And here he was, cuddling his older brother that had let him down so many times before, and expecting to be cuddled back. Harry expected no kindness from anyone. And yet here they were.

Caspian had never been so proud of his brother.
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What Are You Worth?