Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Fragmented Soul	By : StrawberryGirl87 & Bickymonster Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 79703 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 10
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything in the fandom. no money/profit is made.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter Two
“What have you done?” Severus bellowed as Fenrir laughed, picking himself up from the floor, where the force of Snape's spell had put him. Harry’s cries and Snape’s booming shout had also woken Draco, whose screams only added to the ruckus as Narcissa ran into the room; a look of horror on her face, fearful about what had happened andscared for the safety of her son.
“Nothing you can do now,” Greyback said with a mocking bark like laugh as he glared at Severus with the glint of a challenge in his stunning golden eyes. He grinned and Severus could clearly see that his front teeth had a slightly red staining to them. The sight of it made him feel sick to his stomach. Precious Harry’s blood was still upon his lips and he wanted to kill him for that. What had he done in bringing Harry here, to this place? How could he have let it happen? How could he have been so careless as to fall asleep when he knew that they were not safe? He swore that he would never be that careless with the young child ever again.
Narcissa rushed to the large crib in the centre of the room and scooped out the red faced blonde child, trying to sooth him and stop his tears and screaming. Her eyes fixed on the other child, fresh blood upon his hand as he whimpered, wanting to be picked up. She looked at the tiny infant, mouth agape in shock, staring in horror as she it dawned on her what had happened and what the Werewolf, who Lucius had sworn to her could be trusted, had done to such a small and defenceless toddler. Instantly she scanned over Draco, checking for any injuries though she knew in her heart there would be none because otherwise Greyback would be dead. He had only infected the other child.
“Severus …” Narcissa said as Snape came forward to gather Harry into his arms. She could see that he was practically trembling with the effort to controlhis rage.
His heart sunk like it was made of lead when he saw the spilt blood. He had been so foolish and reckless taking the boy from Godrics Hollow and now Lily’s son, the last tiny fragment of her, was irreversibly infected with the Lycanthropy curse. There was no other reason that Fenrir would have bitten him and drawn blood without killing, he was too much of an experienced Werewolf not to infect those that he intended to. There was no escaping the fact that the precious child he had wanted so badly to protect would now be a Werewolf. He had failed Lily and he had failed Harry too. He would never forgive himself for allowing this to happen.
“I have to leave,” Severus declared suddenly, glaring hatefully at Greyback who was doing nothing but smiling in triumph that he had succeeded with his intended goal. He ran his tongue across his teeth, the faint trace of blood tasting wonderful upon his tongue. The child indeed would be something special, his blood tasted beautiful.
Severus rested a still sobbing Harry upon his hip, the small child burying his head into the nape of Snape’s neck as he continued to cry. The potions master inspected the left index finger carefully so not to aggravate the child any further. The injury was neither deep nor life threatening, it would stop bleeding of its own accord soon enough. The young boy didn’t need a healer but everyone in the room was aware that the real damage that had been done could not be seen. He could see the pity in Narcissa's eyes as she looked at them, hold Draco desperately close to her chest, rocking him gently in an attempt to calm him.
Fenrir stood back, watching the two of them carefully. He clutched his wand within his jacket pocket, fully prepared to defend himself against the two of them if he needed to. However neither Severus nor Narcissa seemed overly interested in him. They were both too busy tending to their crying children to notice much about what he was doing. Taking his chance he familiarised himself with the unique scent of his child to make it easier to track him and now he would forever remember him as being a part of his new pack.
Severus had never felt such rage nor had he experienced such guilt or overwhelming feelings of failure, not even when his abusive father still lived. He wanted to lash out, violently; to kill the self-satisfied Alpha Werewolf, who seemed to be so cheerful in regards to what he had done. However there was another urge within him, a stronger one, that told him he needed to get little Harry as far away from the odious man as possible.
As much as he would have gladly served a life sentence in Azkaban with the dreaded dementors for killing the beast that had dared to touch his son, he knew that it wouldn’t solve anything. Harry would still be a Werewolf and he would not feel any better for taking his revenge. He was no murderer, he wasn’t like Voldemort or any of the other deatheaters. Killing did not come easy to him no matter how much anger and resentment he felt towards the person on the receiving end.
Severus Snape had always been a fighter however, he was never one to shy away from danger or from an altercation with anyone and he would always defend himself and those that he loved; not even the Dark Lord himself would have quashed this instinct from him.
However when it was not just him, when it was something as precious as a child that was endangered, especially when it was Lily’s child that was involved; he knew that he had to run, and run as far as he could to ensure that no further danger could befall the precious bundle wrapped protectively in his arms. For whatever reason Fenrir Greyback couldn’t take his eyes off the boy. It was an uneasy atmosphere in the room as the Werewolf looked upon the innocent child with a hunger that Severus could not identify but it worried him.
“Everything you asked of me is in a package on the table,” Narcissa said, her voice wavering, she was in shock, horrified at what had transpired, hating the Werewolf all the more for his inexcusable actions. If her assumptions regarding the identity of the child were correct then the poor child was going to have a difficult enough life as it was without this hanging over him as well. She admired Severus for having the courage to take the child away from all of that. It was admirable, that was for sure, and she couldn’t regret more the fate that had befallen on the poor boy.
She did not envy Severus for the unrequited love he had had throughout his life towards muggleborn Lily Evans; she did not even judge him for choosing to take this particular path with his life, taking a child that had been left orphaned so that he might have a better life. Narcissa could only hope that if anything happened to her and Lucius that Draco would have been protected and as loved as little Harry Potter would now be, thanks to Severus. She had heard Lucius talk about the boy often enough, she knew the intentions the Dark Lord had against the infant. It had always made her feel sick to think that the Dark Lord would want to harm such an innocent creature as a defenceless baby, especially when the child in question was only two months younger than her own son.
Greyback stood back, shrinking into the corner of the room as if he expected retribution from the potions master. He didn’t fancy having to deal with curses being thrown at him. Not that they would have had much effect on him. As a werewolf it gave him a thicker hide when it came to spells, curses and jinxes. It would take a lot to bring him down but he still felt pain. Plus he was here to do Lucius Malfoy a favour and he couldn’t very well fulfil that promise if he was duelling with another for unrelated reasons.
Narcissa looked to her dear friend with pity and apologies as he thanked her again for her kindness. He didn’t look at Greyback again, he physically couldn’t, not without risking his temper flaring and losing control of himself. He swept from the room, black robes billowing out behind him as he made to flee Malfoy Manor with the small child in his arms. He wouldn’t have been able to rein in the anger that bubbled ferociously inside of him had he caught another glimpse of the smug Werewolf. If he ever saw the man again when he didn’t have the young child on his hip then he would kill the beast and make him regret the day that he had ever dared to touch the young boy.
He found a small package, neatly wrapped up, exactly where Narcissa had said it would be. He thanked Merlin that Narcissa was such a wonderful woman that cared for him. He didn’t know what he would have done without her. Though that was a question that he hoped he would never have to discover the answer to. If only Fenrirhadn’t have been here tonight; if only Lucius had asked someone else to watch over his family while he went about his business at the Ministry of Magic, saving his skin.
However he knew there was no point in dwelling over thoughts that began with ‘if only’. He had already done enough of that when considering Lily and if only she had ended up with him rather than James. He couldn’t go down that road again, not now that he had Harry to take care of. He would not resort to being the closed off man that had been forced into spying for the side of the light by Albus Dumbledore. He would be a kind and compassionate father, so unlike his own and he would raise Harry as his son and protect him from Dumbledore and the deatheaters that remained free from Azkaban.
As for the Werewolf curse, well he was at least a skilled potions master and would be able to brew a potion to help with the Lycanthropy. Harry would have to take it daily for the rest of his life and that thought gutted Severus.
Ever since Remus Lupin had asked him to see if he could find a way to supress the Werewolf transformations, Severus had been working on a more drastic form of the existing Wolfsbane potion. Of course it was all theory so far and he should have sent his notes regarding the new potion to the Ministry of Magic for approval, something he had fully intended to do before tonight. However now that he was officially on the run and not wanting to be found it was no longer an option.
Of course he was more than competent in his chosen profession and was sure that the potion wouldn’t have had any problems passing the many tests the Ministry would have put it through. The only issue was the possible side effects, however he had designed the potion to be taken daily and been overly cautious in what had gone into it. Severus would make doubly sure about it and then he would start giving it to his adopted son. He didn’t want to have to watch as Harry suffered through the gut wrenchingly painful changes once a month. If this new potion could stop them or make them slightly less painful then he was going to give it to him, with Ministry approval or not.
The poor defenceless child had stood no chance against the infamously brutal Werewolf. He would make sure that Harry had at least something close to the life that he would have had if Lily and James were alive. The child would be treasured and he would be loved. Severus would do anything it took to ensure that Harry was taken care of to the fullest extent. This potion would be key to giving him a normal as possible upbringing.
Plans began to formulate in his mind. He even thought of a place to go where they might be able to settle permanently. Of course he would have to educate the child at home. There was no chance that he would ever get away with sending him to Hogwarts or any other wizarding school for that matter. Dumbledore would know who he was in a heartbeat and Severus would not put Harry directly in harm's way like that again. It would be a long and hard road raising the young wizard but he was determined to do the very best job that he could do. He wasn’t about to disgrace Lily’s memory by doing anything less.
FGHP
Albus Dumbledore was furious. There was no trace of Severus Snape anywhere; he knew that the man would need time to grieve upon hearing the news that his beloved Lily was dead but to disappear entirely was ridiculous. He stormed through the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in a foul mood, however there was no sign of the potions master anywhere.
He had, of course, considered the possibility that Snape had vanished with the child, as his Order members had searched that house in Godrics Hollow from top to bottom without finding a single trace of the boy who had brought about the downfall of Tom Riddle. Of course it was a ludicrous thought; Severus Snape despised children, he would never take a child that wasn’t his own, especially a child that was half James Potter, a man whom he had always hated. Albus had done the paternity test himself in secret to ensure that Harry was James’ boy, not fully trusting Lily. No, Snape couldn’t have done anything like that, the potions master simply needed time to grieve; he wouldn’t have been foolish enough to take the child, of that Albus was sure.
The headmaster wouldn’t have put it past his potions master to do something as reckless as take his own life however. He was all for the power of love but Lily had been the only reason that he had risen from bed in the morning since he was a small child. Now that she was gone Severus had nothing left. Aside from his use as a spy, a position the headmaster had blackmailed the professor into, Albus didn’t care much for Severus’ fate. The information gathered by Severus could be obtained another way if necessary, as long as the body didn’t start to decompose in the school then he really didn’t care either way if the professor was alive or dead.
Neville Longbottom was his main and, more or less, only concern for the moment; he had to take precedent. Albus had already started to tell everyone, the media included, that it had been Neville that had been the child to bring about the downfall of Lord Voldemort rather than Harry Potter. Every witch and wizard across the country had been celebrating in his honour.
No one questioned Dumbledore’s word, he was respected and honoured throughout the wizarding community, they had no reason to question anything he said. It was a widely known fact that he was in regular correspondence with the Minister of Magic, who more often than not took heed of his advice. If he told them that Bellatrix Lestrange and a host of other deatheaters murdered the Potter family while Voldemort tortured the Longbottom’s into insanity before turning on their young son who survived the killing curse directed at him, which had rebounded and taken out the Dark Lord instead, then why would anyone question it?
He would never admit to losing a child, especially one as important, as Harry Potter was to the cause. His pride and overinflated ego would just not allow it. Harry was dead as far as anyone else was concerned. He had been killed by deatheaters along with his parents, Lily and James, in a tragic attack. It was a horrible loss to the wizarding world, of course, but one that couldn’t have been avoided. Soon people would forget them, Neville was the one that would matter. Every child in their world would know his name.
Everything was going according to his brilliant plan. Sirius Black had reacted as rationally as Albus had expected him to and had gone after Peter Pettigrew without any hesitation or forethought. Whatever had happened between the two old school friends was of no consequence now as Peter was presumed dead, as only the index finger of his right hand had been found. Sirius Black had been sent to Azkaban without a trial, charged with the death of all three Potter’s; and with Pettigrew’s murder not to mention the deaths of twelve muggles as well. One less problem for him to worry about, a situation that had worked out more convenient than the headmaster could have hoped for.
Remus Lupin had not received the news as of yet and Albus was, at least for the moment, happy to keep him in the dark about the specifics of what had happened. He was apparently in Bulgaria currently with a pack of Werewolves trying to seek answers in regards of his monthly affliction. Lupin was always seeking answers of some description and had desperately, though rather foolishly, dreamt of finding a cure for the Lycanthropy disease, something that Albus thought would be impossible to do.
Either way it would still be a few days before he received the owl informing him of the tragic recent events that had seen him left as the only Marauder not killed or imprisoned. He would be devastated at the loss of young Harry but that was of no consequence to Dumbledore, if anything Albus hoped that it would encourage Lupin to become a more loyal and active member of the Order of the Phoenix, instead of chasing answers around the world seeking things that were just not out there to find.
Voldemort already had Werewolves on his side, brutal, vicious, child killing creatures. Remus wasn’t like them but Dumbledore would still have liked to have a Werewolf in the inner circle of the Order to boost ranks and make them more powerful. If there was one thing that Albus craved more than anything then it was power and control.
Neville had been placed in the care of his Grandmother, seeing as his parents had been so heartlessly tortured that they had lost their minds in the attack against them. The healer at St Mungos who had dealt with their admission to the wizarding medical facility had informed him that there was a slim possibility that the Longbottom’s might one day gain back their minds with a lot of medical help and healing.
To anyone else this would have been wonderful news however it was nothing of the kind to the Headmaster. He swiftly bound the two prominent Auror’s to remain in the state they were currently in. It would not do to have them regain any level of their former sanity. He couldn’t have them telling anyone that it had actually Bellatrix Lestrange that had tortured them rather than Voldemort. It would have ruined his well thought out and prepared plans.
Bellatrix Lestrange herself and a number of other deatheaters that had been loyal to the Dark Lord had been rounded up and sent to the wizarding prison for indefinite sentences. Albus was only saddened that he couldn’t get all of them into the wizarding prison. There was nothing he could have done when Lucius Malfoy claimed the Imperius curse as so many of them had. Those slimy excuses for witches and wizards would go free. However Dumbledore wasn’t going to forget, he would keep a close eye on them and ensure that if they tried anything then they would be in a cell in Azkaban faster than they could blink.
Fenrir Greyback had been another of them to slip through the fingers of the Ministry as the Deatheaters had been rounded up. He had gone into hiding after being thrown out of the Malfoy household. Narcissa hadn’t dared to tell her husband about the child that Fenrir had bitten because he would have asked questions. It wouldn’t have been a secret for long if Lucius discovered that Severus had taken the Potter boy and gone on the run. She wouldn’t put her friend, whom she had helped, in that much danger. Once Severus had left, Narcissa had retreated into her bedroom with her son and allowed the Werewolf to stand guard outside the door.
Greyback had left the moment that Lucius Malfoy had returned home. His mind had been racing. He would have to track the scent of the potions master and the child he had taken. That young boy would need protecting, Fenrir was sure of that. He was unique, special and that scent had been delectable. He would rebuild his pack and by the time the child came of age it would be a strong unit; something that they could all be proud to be a part of. That child, regardless of who he was now, would become part of the pack at sixteen and eventually would become his mate, the second highest position in the pack seeing as he was Alpha.
As soon as he tracked down where the wizard had taken the youngling he would ensure that someone was watching over the boy at all times. He would protect what was his at any cost but he had to be the Alpha to his pack he intended to build first and foremost. If he was an absent leader then his position would be easily challenged, something he wanted to avoid if it was at all possible. The infant would have to grow up before he became a part of the Pack. He did not want young pups unless they were his own. He was certain that leaving his bitten children in the care of witches and wizards would be fine. The only magic trick against werewolves they had was a feeble potion that barely did anything against the gift that was Lycanthropy. He was under no delusion that they would all survive into adult hood but if they couldn’t survive then they weren’t any good to him anyway. He only wanted the strongest in the Pack. There was no room for weakness.
The fall of the Dark Lord had given Fenrir the opportunity to escape the servitude he had found himself in with Tom Riddle after his first pack had fallen foul to wizards. It had been a dark path he had followed then and had deeply regretted it, all apart from the access to those that would be strong enough to survive a bite from him. That was something that he didn’t regret because it was this that had led him to that child, the one that held so much promise. Now however was the time for him to rebuild his Pack; make a strong, secure home away from the prejudice and violence of wizards. He would need to have something to offer the young one when it came time for him to join the Pack.
FGHP
Years passed by and it was peaceful. No sign of Voldemort arose and the world moved on. The name Potter was almost completely forgotten, the monument to their memories erected in Godrics Hollow but nothing more was done, and thoughts were rarely spared for little Harry, who supposedly lost his life that night. The name Neville Longbottom became infamous. History books were written about how an eighteen month old baby had been able to bring down the darkest wizard known to man. Everyone celebrated him and Dumbledore sat back in smug satisfaction as the young boy's magic grew under the praise and tutelage of several Auror’s.
Away from prying eyes Severus Snape raised Harry Potter as his own, both of them keeping their forenames but both using Prince as their surname, Severus borrowing his mother’s maiden name so that they could start their lives again. The eighteen month old infant turned into a handsome young boy, who was very competent at everything he did, magical or otherwise. Under Severus’ watchful eye he practiced spell work and potions, he mastered occlumency with ease, produce a patronus in the form of a stag and could even transform into an animagus by the time he was eleven years old, which curiously was a falcon.
Of course he was still having to take the dreaded Wolfsbane potion daily, which Severus had successfully managed to improve to ease the monthly werewolf transformations though he still ended up in a cage in their basement once a month;, a cage with silver bars.
Severus had worked hard to improve the Wolfsbane potion enough that the transformations were painless and the werewolf you became was docile and almost tame. The cage Harry was resided to once a month was just a precaution. As far as Severus knew there had been no adverse effects but then he had never used his adopted son as a lab rat, having only wanted him to lead a relatively normal life and therefore, given that Harry had seemed in good health, had not tested for adverse effects to the new and improved Wolfsbane potion he had created.
Snape was very proud of his son. He couldn’t quite believe how wonderfully talented the boy was. Despite the Lycanthropy curse, that ravaged his body, he was a well-adjusted child. He, of course, asked questions, as any boy would. Severus would often tell him stories about his mother, Lily, and of how kind and beautiful she had been. Though Harry noticed that his father always closed up when he mentioned how he had come to be bitten and become a werewolf. He learnt very quickly that he was never going to be told that particular story. It was clearly far too painful for his father to talk about and Harry respected that because he respected him.
“Dad, can I go out with Clay this afternoon?” Harry asked, he was hoping to catch his father in a good mood. Severus didn’t much like Clayton Danes however he had no reason to distrust him either. Clayton was just a boy who was tutored at home by his over protective father. He was the same age as Harry and even Severus could admit that his son needed to socialise with other children that were his own age and magically inclined.
Severus folded the Daily Prophet in half, looking over at his eleven year old son with his untameable jet black hair that fell to his shoulders and was always tied back in a scruffy pony tail. Thankfully he had never needed glasses, though Severus presumed that was because of his Lycanthropy but it meant that the vivid green eyes shone, almost blinding him just the way Lily’s had. It was mid-June, the beginning of the summer months and his young son was nearing his twelfth birthday.
“It’s two days before the full moon,” Severus reminded Harry carefully.
“I know, I’ll be extra careful, please can I go?”
Severus sighed, Harry knew all too well that the sweet and innocent act would usually get him what he wanted. His father was strict but not so much that it made his life unbearable. Harry knew that he was just protective. Their constant moving around when he was younger had shown him that. This time however they were settled and Harry even had a friend, he was not about to mess it up.
“Be back before dark and no magic,” Severus warned with a stern look and watched as his adopted son smiled with glee, flinging his arms around his Dad’s neck, chanting his thanks several times and crushing the wizarding newspaper between them before charging off out the back door, presumably to meet Clayton.
With a deep sigh, Severus straightened out his paper and continued to read the rather worrying article. Neville Longbottom, the boy-who-lived was dead. The report that Dumbledore had given on the matter was that it was a tragic accident, something Severus found extremely hard to believe. The scheming headmaster was never out of control enough to allow for accidents like this to happen.
Lord Voldemort had apparently taken up residence inside a teacher with the aims of stealing and using the Philosophers Stone to lengthen his life. Neville and a group of his friends had gone to try and stop him but in the process Neville, a slight, eleven year old boy had died. Severus was glad that Harry had asked to go out this afternoon because Severus needed to be alone with his thoughts.
All he could think was that could have been Harry. He was now certain that he had made the right choice in taking Lily’s son away from the meddling ways of Albus Dumbledore. If he hadn’t then Harry would be the one who was dead. He would at least have been embroiled in it somehow but thankfully Harry was safe, he had never set foot inside of Hogwarts. As far as Harry was concerned he couldn’t go to a wizarding school because of his Lycanthropy and that was how Severus wanted it to remain.
It was fortunate that Dumbledore had arrived just in time to ensure that the Dark Lord had been unable to obtain the Stone and the article in the Prophet made the old man sound like a hero. Severus supposed he was; the Dark Lord had been thwarted in his attempts to come back from the dead, something that Severus Prince was very grateful for. Having that horrible creature back and at full strength again would have been disastrous seeing as he knew the truth about what had happened that night at Godrics Hollow.
Dumbledore had spun his elaborate web of lies, allowing him to put another defenceless young boy in Harry’s place for his own personal gain. If Voldemort were to come back then the secret that Harry was alive would not remain that way for long. The Dark Lord would have known that Neville was not the boy whom he had tried to kill, a fact that Severus was sure Albus knew all too well. However it was now clear that the Dark Lord was trying to return and another attempt to return to full strength would not be far behind this first one now he had made his intentions clear.
The problem was however that now that the Longbottom boy was dead the old meddling man would need another hero to take his place. Severus did not feel too threatened by this just yet considering it had been announced publically that all three Potter’s had lost their lives that Halloween night. He had some time and he would ensure that Harry remained safe and out of the headmaster's selfish reach. They were protected by enchantments and other spells carefully put into place by the potions master so they couldn’t be tracked magically. However these were not infallible and were only really a stalling tactic.
FGHP
Over the ten years where Harry had grown up with Severus, Fenrir Greyback had successfully staked his claim on some woodland territory in the north of England, though it was by no means perfect nor completely safe yet but it was a work in progress and would one day become their permanent home. The numbers in his pack had swollen to four so far, himself included. He had his beta wolf and second in command, Damon whom he had intrusted to keep a watchful eye on Harry. He’d also sent with him Clayton, a young pup whom he had bitten. Clayton was the same age as Harry and Fenrir had hoped that the two boys would be friends.
The only other pack member so far was Callie, Damon’s younger sister. Their history was tragic, both of them bitten by their father who had had no idea what was happening to him at the time of his first change after being bitten. He had killed their mother in a savage rage the first time he had turned before attacking and biting his children too. Damon and Callie had had a third sibling, another sister but she had not survived the first change as so many didn’t.
The new territory however was a fresh start for all four of them. They had all been magical before they had been bitten and all of them had managed to retain their wands. All except for Clayton who despite having magical blood running in his veins had been disowned by his parents before they even bought him a wand. Fenrir had taken him into the pack as a pup, breaking his own rule about not wanting them unless they were his own. He had entrusted the care of the youngling to Damon who had taken the young boy in and raised him.

They used their magic to ward the boundaries of their territory to keep danger away. As werewolves they preferred to sleep outside, being in doors felt very claustrophobic to them. Sleeping under the stars as a pack was what kept them sane and grounded. Being surrounded by stone walls for too long was liable to send any werewolf a little loopy. Their bodies were more robust than that of humans, the elements not bothering them as much, though they used furs and hides from the animals they hunted in the winter to ward off some of the cold and the snow.
“We’ll hunt tonight,” Fenrir grunted to Callie as he entered the small clearing where they had been sleeping. It wasn’t cold currently as they were approaching the summer months but they would need a much bigger pack to ensure warmth when the winter weather began to hit. “The cave is running low on meat.”
“Yes Alpha,” Callie replied curtly as she stood up from the ground where she had been sat brooding. She had been missing her brother, he had been gone for a long while on a mission from the Alpha but she would not question it. Alpha’s orders were final and he shouldn’t have to explain them. It was however the longest she had ever been away from her older brother since they had become werewolves and she couldn’t help but miss him.
“We’ll start down up the larger of the two streams, the deer should still be gathered there, we can round one of them up between the two of us I’m sure.” Again Callie nodded but this time remaining silent. He eyed her with suspicion but didn’t ask her what was wrong, he knew how much she missed her brother.
It was a struggle for the pack to be split in half, Fenrir and Callie warding and marking out their new territory while Damon and Clayton watched over Harry, who was too precious to be left without a guard. The Alpha couldn’t risk anyone else finding out how wonderfully unique Harry was and laying claim to him. Fenrir was a jealous and possessive man and didn’t like anyone touching his things. Harry, at least in Fenrir’s mind, belonged to him and would fight for him if that was what it took.
FGHP
Severus Prince looked on from the front door of his home as Damon, a large, muscle bound man with dark brown hair and steely grey eyes said goodbye to little Harry who was growing up so fast. Soon he would be twelve and it was a thought that scared Severus, who couldn’t understand where the time had gone.
He watched with a fondness as Harry and Clayton joked around, laughing and play fighting with one another. The two young ones startling similar in appearance, though Clayton’s hair was a couple shades lighter than Harry’s own raven locks and his eyes brown rather than emerald green.
Severus found himself glad that the two of them had found one another. Damon and Clayton had travelled here from America and before coming to England had only vaguely heard the name Neville Longbottom and the Potter’s were not even fractionally as well known. It meant that he had nothing to worry about when it came to them finding out who they were. He knew that Harry would be heartbroken if they had to leave their home and his new found friend behind. However he kept a careful eye on the two boys, cautiously protective of his adoptive son. He would never be able to completely trust anyone until they stopped running and no longer had to hide.
“Good evening Severus,” Damon said as he strolled down the garden path, reaching the potions master and offering his hand to shake, which Severus took gladly; he liked the man, he might even have gone so far as to call them casual acquaintances.
“Evening Damon,” Snape said with a warm smile as they shook hands. Severus would always be more trusting of a man with a strong handshake and there was no doubting that Damon had one.
The two men watched over their children as the two young ones laughed and pretended to rough house all the while charging around the garden like the carefree eleven year old boys that they were. With the news that Severus had read that afternoon in regards to the passing of Neville Longbottom he couldn’t help but feel as if the calm of their world would soon shatter irreversibly.
There was another war coming, he could feel it in his gut, it felt how it did before. They would soon be facing the return of Lord Voldemort but he was determined that he would keep Harry safely away from it all. He didn’t want his son to have to face the horrors of battle, war, and more than likely death as well, so early in his life; not again. Dumbledore was not going to get his hands on the young boy, Severus was going to make sure of it.
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Fragmented Soul