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
- 33
- 34
- 35
Fragmented Soul
Chapter 34 – Unwanted Advances
“What the fuck?” Harry growled as his body was slammed head first against the cold stone wall, his head hitting it with a thump; though it didn’t hurt at all, it did disorientate him for a moment and it took him a few seconds to realise what was going on.
“You know you want this, Prince,” a familiar voice said, whispering into his ear. “You’ve been verbally riding me since you arrived here, now you’re going to actually ride me.”
“I’m flattered, Zabini,” Harry growled back trying to sound much calmer than he felt, “but I think I’ll pass.” He had never really appreciated how much bigger the other Slytherin boy was by comparison; even with the additional strength that being a werewolf gave him it wouldn’t be easy to break free of Blaise’s grip.
“Now now, Prince,” Blaise chastised, sounding impatient with Harry’s rejection, “you shouldn’t tease. I am only holding to you to what you have already offered.” Harry had somehow gotten under his skin, his suggestions stirring things in Blaise’s mind that had never been there before. He needed to prove something to Prince and himself, and now that they weren't surrounded by people he could do just that.
“You wish I was offering,” Harry bit back, unable to believe what he was hearing. He hadn’t actually even believed Blaise was gay, let alone interested. “Can no one take a joke in this place?” he asked rhetorically.
“You weren’t joking, you only ever said those things to me,” Blaise told him firmly, pressing himself against Harry’s back, pinning him more firmly in place against the wall. He wasn’t going to let Harry deny him what they both knew he wanted; Blaise’s curiosity wouldn’t leave him alone and he would settle this between them one way or another. “You’ve wanted me ever since you saw me naked in the showers. I’m going to give you what you want.”
“Like hell you are,” Harry exclaimed in horror, starting to realise that Blaise might actually seriously try something. Even if he hadn't been completely committed to Fen, he had no interested in Blaise; he could barely stand him as a house mate, let alone anything more. “I have a boyfriend remember, why the hell would I want you?” he sneered with disgust. The idea that he would betray his mate for this… boy was ridiculous. Blaise was nothing compared to the man waiting for him at home.
“A boyfriend who has no name and you laugh about,” Blaise said, grabbing Harry’s wrist as the smaller teen tried to push him off. “And as for him being famous,” he gave a false bark of amusement, “well, that really is laughable. I doubt he’s even real.” Blaise could see that Harry was all talk; even if he did have a boyfriend, it obviously wasn’t anything serious given the way he flirted. Blaise was honestly surprised that Harry was putting up this slight resistance at all, he thought that with all the innuendos the teen would be absolutely gagging for it. He may not be now but very shortly he would be, Blaise thought smugly to himself.
“Oh he’s real,” Harry said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at Blaise’s logic. Had the other teen just completely forgotten the love bites that he had been covered in upon arriving at school; it wasn’t like he could have given those to himself. However, it seemed that Blaise would just see whatever he wanted to see.
“If you knew who he was you wouldn’t be messing with me,” Harry warned. He was about ready to do whatever it took to get Blaise off him; he wouldn’t let anyone else touch him. Fenrir had marked him and he had marked Fenrir; there was no forgetting that commitment and he was going to make sure that Blaise didn’t destroy that.
“I’m going to do more than mess with you, Prince,” Blaise whispered, trying to place a kiss on Harry’s neck, but the smaller teen managed to jerk away enough to avoid it. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be begging for more,” he said, pressing his hips forward so that Harry could feel the erection grinding against him.
“With what I’ve seen I’ll barely feel it,” Harry said, his anger rising. He hated the feel of Blaise against him; it was all wrong and making him somewhat desperate to break free. He had been powerless against Gideon all those months ago but he was stronger than Blaise despite their size difference and Blaise didn’t have four lackeys helping him either. It gave Harry strength to know that he was going to get out of this before the other Slytherin could hurt him.
“Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we,” Blaise chuckled. He had no insecurities about his body and he supposed that if Harry wanted to play games then he could live with that.
“No we bloody well won’t,” Harry told him through gritted teeth as Blaise started trying to slid a hand under his jumper. “Get off me,” Harry insisted, trying to move away from Blaise’s prying touch. The feel of his hand against his skin made him feel physically sick, he didn’t want this boy anywhere near him.
“Play nice, Prince, and then maybe we can both get off,” Blaise whispered, his voice husky as his lips pressed against Harry’s ear. Fingers dipped just beneath the waistband of Harry’s trousers, un-tucking his shirt fully now as they reached for the button.
“The only thing you’re going to be getting off, is off me,” Harry snapped, halting Blaise’s hand, with his unrestrained arm, that he had been using to try to push the larger teen away. “If you even dare to touch me…”
“You’ll what, Prince?” Blaise asked, starting to get really tired of the pretence Harry was putting up. “Tell me what you’ll do,” he told him, knowing he had the upper hand and that Harry wasn’t going anywhere until he was done with him. Blaise hated how hard he was, just thinking about Harry; the rather erotic dreams about the other teen had not been helping matters either. He was desperate to see if the reality was as good as he imagined.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” Harry hissed out, struggling to push Blaise away, bucking against the wall in an attempt to gain some leverage to remove Blaise’s weight from behind him so that he could literally knock some sense into the boy with his fists.
“How about you tell me then?” Blaise suggested, his hand sliding between the wall and the front of Harry’s trousers, cupping the flaccid length there, finding himself disappointed that his fellow Slytherin wasn’t as hard as he was. “Tell me what you’re capable of, or why not show me; let me stick my cock in your mouth and you can show me exactly what you’re capable of.”
“Why don’t I tell you my boyfriend’s name instead?” Harry countered, trying to remove Blaise’s hand from his groin. He was having trouble keeping the mental images of that night that the strays had snatched him from his mind, but he knew that there was no Fenrir coming to save him this time; he had to get himself free. “You might not be so keen to stick your pathetic excuse for a cock in my mouth once you know what I am.”
“I know what you are, Prince,” Blaise said as he tightened his grip on Harry’s waist, relishing in the feel of the other boys warmth against him, “you’re a damn tease; all that talk about touching me, fucking me. I can’t wait to sink myself balls deep inside you and you’re going to love it.”
“The only thing I’m going to love is watching Fenrir rip your head off if you touch me,” Harry snarled, knowing that he had to do or say something drastic if he was going to get Blaise off him. He knew how badly Daphne had reacted to hearing his mate’s name and even though he didn’t want to think of Fenrir being well known he almost hoped that Blaise did recognise the name just so that he would back off.
“Fenrir?” Blaise said a little shocked, the name sounding familiar. “Werewolf Fenrir Greyback?” Harry’s heart fell as the name was recognised. He was going to have to look into why his mate was so known and there was such fear in the voices of those that he told. However, it did have the desired effect and Blaise let him go, taking a step back in a mixture of shock and revulsion which allowed Harry to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, I’m his mate. Still want to stick your cock in my mouth now?” Harry asked, turning around to face the other teen and snapping his teeth at Blaise, threateningly. Not wanting to show any weakness; he tried to keep himself strong but he could feel his legs shaking and he leaned back against the wall to support himself so that he wouldn’t fall.
“I don’t believe you,” Blaise said, taking a step toward Harry again so that they were once again almost grinding together; though he still had a look of disgust on his face and still seemed to be rather sceptical about whether Harry was telling the truth or simply making things up for the hell of it.
“Why don’t I bite you? Then we’ll see what you believe,” Harry suggested, their bodies almost pressed together, Blaise’s erection rubbing against him but doing absolutely nothing for him. “I’m just as much of a werewolf as he is and if you stick anything in my mouth I will bite it,” Harry warned, baring his teeth for Blaise to see so that he knew that he wasn’t joking.
“You wouldn’t dare. Maybe I should just go have a quick chat with our headmaster, I am sure he would be fascinated by this claim of yours,” Blaise said, looking smug. If it was the truth then surely Harry wouldn’t want Dumbledore knowing about it, and if it wasn’t then he would likely confess his deception; however, Harry’s reaction wasn’t quite what he had expected.
Harry laughed. “You think he doesn’t know what I am, do you honestly believe that I could vanish every full moon without that old fool noticing?” he pointed out, shaking his head at Blaise.
“I’ll tell everyone else then,” Blaise told him, frustrated at Harry being one step ahead at every turn; it would serve him right if the whole school found out exactly what kind of monster their precious Harry was.
“Fine, go for it, tell everyone,” Harry challenged, “but just so you know, if you do, I’ll bite you and then tell everyone what you are; assuming you survive, of course,” he added with a false smile. “But then it would be just as much your secret as mine, so make your choice very carefully.”
Blaise took half a step back and had raised his fist before Harry realised what was happening, ducking only just in time to avoid a punch to the face; apparently the other Slytherin believed him now, because he looked furious.
“Seriously, Zabini? A fist fight?” Harry asked incredulously, as he dodged out from between the wall and the taller boy. “I thought you would think yourself above such things,” he taunted as he freed his wand from its holster and took it in hand. It was a great comfort given he was fairly sure he could get off a stunning spell before Blaise could try anything else.
“You think you could best me in a duel, Prince?” Blaise asked, squaring up to the smaller teen. “You’ve been here for what… two weeks? I hardly think you are going to be any match for one of the top students in our year,” he said smugly.
“I’ve had one-on-one magical education pretty much since I got my wand when I was six years old,” Harry taunted, twirling his wand between his fingers casually for a moment before pausing. “Or maybe I was five,” he added, but he couldn’t remember and so just shrugged it off. “Either way, I don’t think you have quite the advantage you believe you do, Zabini, but if you need me to prove it…”
“Go ahead and try,” Blaise said as he withdrew his own wand. He wasn’t worried; like this little runt could possibly win, he thought to himself.
“From sex to fighting in zero point five seconds,” Harry said, looking amused as he continued to fidget with the wand in his hand. “Are you always that fast?” he asked, as though genuinely curious.
“You were the one fighting it, Prince,” Blaise snapped, infuriated by the continued insults to his masculinity. He wanted to prove to Harry, one way or another, that he was more than capable of being a man, whether that be through sex or fighting him, he didn’t really care.
“You couldn’t even get me hard, Zabini,” Harry retorted with a laugh, knowing that Blaise didn’t stand a chance against him. His dad had taught him well with magic and Fenrir had ensured he knew how to defend himself physically. Now that he wasn’t pinned to a wall, unable to move, he felt a lot more confident in his ability to stop Blaise from causing him injury.
Blaise raised his wand to fire a spell, but Harry was faster. “Stupefy,” he said quickly, dodging the hex that Blaise had sent his way, as his own spell collided with the taller Slytherin. Harry smirked, looking rather pleased with himself, as Blaise collapsed to the floor in a crumpled heap, unconscious. “I think I made my point,” Harry said to himself.
“Are you okay?” someone asked, catching him off guard. Harry spun around quickly, half expecting an attack, only to see a brown-haired Hufflepuff boy, who looked to be either a sixth or seventh year student, hurrying along the corridor towards him with a worried expression on his face.
“Err, yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said, lowering his wand, looking rather confused as to what this boy was fussing about. “Why?” he asked, looking up into the concerned grey eyes of the unknown boy. He was tall, well-built and definitely handsome, Harry noticed.
“He just tried to hex you,” the Hufflepuff boy pointed out, looking over at where Blaise lay unmoving.
“Oh that, right,” Harry said, catching on to why the other boy had been so worried; it was kind of endearing in a way, even if he hadn’t actually needed rescuing. It did make Harry wonder what it was that made people always think he needed a hero or something of the like. “Yeah I told him he could try,” he explained with a shrug of his shoulders as he put his wand away, “seems I was right about being quicker.”
“I hear your quick with other things,” the Hufflepuff boy said, but then, realising how wrong this sounded and becoming a little flustered, not meaning to put his foot in it the way he had, quickly added, “Quidditch, I meant Quidditch. I heard you’d been chosen for the Slytherin team, as seeker.” He really did look a little flustered by his blunder, which Harry thought was rather sweet.
“I have,” Harry said with amusement. He wasn’t sure what it was that had this boy so nervous but it was kind of fun to watch. “You play?” he asked, wondering if there was anyone who wasn’t following the details of his life; it was kind of strange everyone knowing things about him when he didn’t even have a clue who they were.
“I’m the captain for the Hufflepuff team,” the older boy told him, clearly proud of this fact but not at all bothered that Harry didn’t know who he was. “I play seeker too,” he added with a soft smile.
“Bit big for a seeker aren’t you?” Harry asked, eyeing the Hufflepuff from head to toe, his eyes perhaps lingering too long on his midsection. Most seekers were small and slender, like Harry himself was, not tall and well-built like this guy.
The Hufflepuff boy just smiled at him sweetly, seeming to quite enjoy Harry’s attention. “I’m just as fast as you, I assure you,” he told him; he was quite certain of his ability having held the position on his house team for the majority of the time he had been at Hogwarts.
“I can’t wait to put it to the test,” Harry said, not really believing that this large guy would ever manage to keep up with him on a broom. He might not have the years of experience this guy probably had playing Quidditch but Harry knew he was talented; if he hadn’t been sure of it before, then his try out for the Slytherin team taught him that for certain.
“I’ll look forward to it,” the Hufflepuff said happily, and he seemed genuinely keen on the idea. “I’m Cedric by the way, Cedric Diggory,” he said, holding out his hand for Harry to shake.
Harry took it after a few moments hesitation. “Harry Prince,” he said, introducing himself even though he suspected that Cedric knew exactly who he was, particularly given that he already knew that Harry had been accepted onto the team.
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Harry Prince. Maybe we can go flying together some time,” Cedric suggested. “You know, just the two of us,” he added, after a moment of uncertainty. He wasn’t entirely sure how forward he should be with the younger teenager but thinking that Harry might have been flirting with him, though he couldn’t be sure.
“I do love to fly,” Harry admitted, with a shrug thinking that it might be nice to go flying when it didn’t involve Quidditch and instead just have some friendly one on one competition. Cedric really did seem like a nice guy and he was all for making new friends.
“That settles it then,” Cedric said with a smile, “though perhaps for the moment I could just walk you back to your dormitory,” he suggested, leaning in closer to the younger teenager to whisper, “just in case there are any other students waiting in the wings to attack you.”
“I think the Gryffindor’s are all busy today but okay,” Harry said, readily agreeing because, on today of all days, he found that the company of someone, who was practically a stranger to him, was something of a comfort. “I was going to go to the library though,” he added, thinking that if he was going to do some research on his mate then that was a good place to start with it.
“Okay,” Cedric agreed, waving his hand to gesture that he would follow Harry’s lead, which Harry thought was slightly odd given that he was the new student there, but he didn’t question it and headed towards the library, with Cedric at his side. “What do you want to do with your friend?” he asked, pausing as they reached Blaise. It seemed a little mean to just step over him, as if he weren’t there, even if he had been in the wrong.
“Who…? Oh him,” Harry said, realising that Cedric was talking about Blaise; the term ‘friend’ had thrown him for a moment. “Leave him,” he suggested, with a shrug; honestly, after what Blaise had tried to do, he didn’t care much what happened to him. “Someone will find him eventually,” he said, stepping over the unconscious Slytherin and only just resisting the urge to ‘accidentally’ stand on or kick him.
“If you say so,” Cedric said with a laugh; it seemed a little callous, but he had seen the other boy try to hex Harry, so he supposed perhaps he had it coming. “And why would the Gryffindor’s want to attack you?” he asked, as he stepped over the unconscious boy and took a few quick steps to catch up with Harry.
“You don’t read the papers much, do you,” Harry said with slight surprise.
“I don’t see the point personally, all rubbish and propaganda any ways,” Cedric told him with a shrug. He had, of course, heard some talk of Harry Prince around the school, and he knew who the teenager was, but that didn’t mean he spared any time for gossiping; hopefully he would be able to actually get to know Harry, rather than just listening to speculation.
“I have to say that I completely agree with you,” Harry told him with a grin. It was nice to meet someone who didn’t already assume they knew everything about his life; he supposed that Cedric must have heard about his appointment to the Quidditch team through other students rather than because it was published on the front page.
“So,” Cedric said, a little lamely as they made their way towards the library. It was kind of awkward, the two of them walking together when they didn’t even really know each other. He felt as though he should at least make some kind of attempt to have a conversation. “What else do you like, other than Quidditch and flying?”
“Causing trouble is pretty high on the list,” Harry told him with a grin.
“Yes, I saw your start of term prank, it was very amusing to watch, though not to smell,” Cedric told him with a chuckle, loving the way Harry’s face seemed to come to life at the mention of it. The teen was clearly a natural troublemaker. “What else do you have planned?”
“Well that would be telling,” Harry said with a devious glint in his stunning emerald eyes, “I can’t go around divulging all my secrets to every boy I meet in the corridors now, can I.”
Cedric couldn’t help but sneak a sideways glance at the rather intriguing younger teenager; he was finding Harry rather sweet and innocent. He had heard so many rumours in regards to the boy but they didn’t seem to be reflecting truthfully on the boy that he was speaking to now. “I’d like to know your secrets,” Cedric admitted, looking away before Harry could catch him staring.
Harry frowned a little at the older teen's words; it saddened him a little that Cedric would probably run in the opposite direction if he knew his deepest, darkest secrets. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I’m hiding,” Harry said, his tone tinged with a sudden sadness.
Not understanding the hint of sadness that he could suddenly hear he added, “I think that I do.” He wasn’t sure what it was that was drawing him to the Slytherin but he really wanted to get to know him more. He was happy to ignore the gossip and the rumours and just talk to Harry and get to know the real him.
“We’ll see,” Harry said with a smile, liking this boy more and more. “How about, before we go exchanging secrets, you can come and watch me practice for Quidditch Friday night? We can go flying afterwards.” Harry wasn’t stupid, far from it, but he had never had the opportunity to flirt or be flirted with, it wasn’t like Fenrir had ever courted him traditionally; he just hoped that Cedric wouldn't get the wrong idea and think this was a date or something, though he couldn't see why he would.
“I like the sound of that, Friday evening it is,” Cedric said, smiling brightly at his new friend, really looking forward to the following Friday, even though it was almost a week away. They had just arrived at the entrance to the library now and the two of them were stood somewhat awkwardly, not knowing what to say to one another.
“Are you coming in?” Harry asked, trying to look anywhere but directly into the grey eyes that seemed to be studying him rather intently.
“I was actually on my way to meet friends,” Cedric admitted. “Another time maybe, perhaps we could study together,” he suggested.
“Umm, sure,” Harry said, biting his bottom lip a little nervously. “I should go, I’ve got some stuff I have to research, but I’ll see you on Friday.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Cedric said with a charming smile. The two of them gave an awkward little wave before Harry dove for cover into the library, determined that he was going to find out anything he could about Fenrir. His mate had refused to tell him so now he was going to find out on his own.
It wasn’t exactly normal for a spark of fear to appear in someone’s eyes, or for people to back off, when a name was mentioned. Whatever Fenrir had done, whoever his mate had been before Harry had known him, he wanted to find out. He was too curious not to know. Though he knew that this was something that he was going to have to hide from Clayton and Romy; he didn’t think that they would approve of his snooping.
FGHP
“Fenrir,” Jenson called across the clearing, “you have to see this.” The owl that had just delivered the letter was already taking flight as the Beta wolf laughed to himself at the photograph he held in his hands.
“What is it?” the Alpha asked, looking up from his third mug of coffee for the day; he wasn’t in a very good mood, though that hadn’t changed in days so no one was really surprised. Jenson, however, was hoping this picture would change that.
“It’s a photo of Harry and Romy,” the Beta wolf said as he made his way over to where his Alpha was sitting. He handed over the photograph still smiling at the memory of it.
Fenrir took it and snorted in amusement. He had never seen his little mate in such a state, though he could almost expect it from Harry; though not from Romy, who was possibly the most sensible fourteen year old he had ever known.
Damon came and peered over the Alpha’s shoulder at the picture; the pair of them really were quite a sight, but what was immediately obvious to him was that Clayton was entirely missing from the picture and it hurt his heart a little. Surely whatever mischief Harry was up to, particularly if he had recruited Romy as well, was something that Clayton would want to be part of.
Callie put down what she was doing and came to see what the men were looking at and gasped in horror when she saw the state of her daughter. “And to think I thought Romy was incorruptible. That will teach me to underestimate Harry.”
“Never underestimate Harry,” Damon warned ominously, having that mistake once or twice. “Trust me.”
“They at least look like they’re having fun,” Micha said with amusement, spying all the food that the pups were covered in.
“And food fights won’t bring down the castle,” Lukas added, trying to look on the bright side.
“Don’t discount that,” Damon said, “Clay isn’t in the picture, which means whatever he was doing they didn’t want us to see.” Though he said this he couldn’t help but be a little worried at the absence of his son from the picture. Whether it was trouble making, or something more sinister, he would have at least wanted to have news of how he was getting on.
“And other than that detention that they got the first night and the one that Clayton got for skateboarding in the hallways we haven’t heard about any others,” Callie pointed out, trying to reassure her brother. Damon didn’t usually show it, but he was always worrying about his son; often with good reason, given Clay’s track record.
“That they haven’t been caught does not overwhelm me with confidence in my son’s safety, Callie,” Damon said with a frown on his face.
“Just means they’re smart enough not to get caught,” Micha said with a smile.
“I’m so proud,” Damon said dryly.
“I am quite sure Clayton is fine,” Callie said, wrapping an arm around her brother’s back, and pulling him into a half hug. “We would have heard if there was anything wrong; he is probably the one who took the picture,” she suggested.
“He better be there, he is supposed to be protecting Harry,” Fenrir said gruffly, annoyed that Clayton was not at Harry’s side for entirely different reasons. At least Romy was definitely there, but the reason he had sent the other two pups was to protect his mate.
“I’m sure he is, my Alpha,” Lukas said reassuringly. There was no doubt that Clayton would never let anything happen to Harry, no matter what the situation; he was absolutely certain on that. “As Callie said, he probably took the picture.”
“They’ll be home in a week,” Micha said with clear excitement in his tone. “Then we can see them and we can all know that they’re fine, no more worrying.”
“You just miss being able to join in,” Jenson said a little disparagingly.
“That too,” Micha agreed happily, ignoring the Beta’s obvious disapproval. As far as he was concerned he was still young, and even younger at heart; he was never going to let anyone stop him from having fun with his pack brothers ever again.
Callie took a step back from the others, forcing herself to take a deep breath as a wave of nausea hit her. Jenson looked to his mate with concern, “Are you alright?” He asked her.
She smiled at him. “Of course I am,” she said, as if he was just being silly, “I didn’t sleep well last night is all, I’m fine.” Honestly it wasn’t the first time in the last few days that she hadn’t felt quite right, but she often had patches of poor health, so it was probably nothing to worry about.
“Let me take over the cooking, you sit down,” Jenson suggested and she laughed at him. She knew that Jenson was worried about her, but to volunteer to actually cook their dinner… well that was a drastic measure indeed.
“If I eat anything you cook it’ll only make me feel worse,” she teased. “I’m fine, honestly, nothing to worry about.” She gave her mate a kiss on the cheek as she headed back toward the fire; she didn’t want him to fret about her, even if she did love that he worried about her. If she didn’t feel better soon, then she would let him take care of her.
“I agree with Callie,” Micha said, giving Jenson a playful grin. “I don’t fancy puking my guts out with food poisoning from your cooking.” He didn’t really have a leg to stand on with teasing the Beta wolf given his own attempts at cooking, but that still didn’t mean he wanted Jenson to be cooking any of their meals.
“Don’t be cheeky,” Jenson snapped at Micha as Damon, suppressing a laugh, put his arm around Micha and placing a kiss to his temple.
“Come on, trouble,” Damon said, guiding his cheeky mate away from the others, “let’s go for a walk.” He gave the mildly annoyed looking Beta wolf a smile as they headed off; he knew Jenson would never actually harm Micha, but that didn’t mean that Jenson appreciated the submissive’s teasing. They were a family after all and bickering and small fights were to be expected; they probably wouldn’t be a family if they didn’t.
FGHP
Draco made his way across the library, placing the books he had borrowed onto the returned shelf next to Madam Pince’s desk and turned to leave again; but in the process spotted Harry sat reading at a desk in a corner, looking nothing short of miserable. He sighed to himself, and decided he should probably check on him; they were friends after all.
“What was up with you this morning, grumpy?” Draco asked as he sat himself down at the table opposite Harry, who jumped a little at the blond’s sudden appearance. He had been so involved in the book he was reading that he hadn’t noticed his fellow Slytherin.
“Oh, hi,” Harry greeted, as he looked up and realised who it was who had joined him at the table. “Just a bad day,” he explained dismissively; though that felt like an understatement between it being his Dad’s birthday, the article, Blaise and the rather confusing conversation with Cedric.
“You okay?” Draco asked as Harry dejectedly went back to reading.
“Not really,” Harry said with a sigh. He really wished that he hadn’t started researching Fenrir. What he was reading really wasn’t improving his mood any but now that he had started he didn’t seem to be able to stop. His mate was going to have some explaining to do and Harry was wondering if these were the things that Fenrir had meant when he said that he had done things that he wasn’t proud of.
“We could… talk about it, or something,” Draco suggested, clearly not really sure what to say, but wanting to help his friend somehow.
“It’s just a bad day,” Harry said, closing the book, not wanting to look at any more words that were declaring his mate, the man he loved, a heartless, brutal and vindictive killer. “It’s my Dad’s birthday.”
Draco had not found the opportunity to talk to Harry about Severus, but here they were, just the two of them and Harry had brought up the subject all on his own; it seemed to be the perfect moment to finally share what he had learnt from Dumbledore. Although, he didn’t want to do that here, he had something to show Harry first.
“I think I know what will cheer you up,” Draco said with a soft smile. “Come with me.”
Harry leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t in the mood for show and tell today, all he wanted to do was be left alone to mourn his father and forget all the other things that seemed to keep on happening to him. “Draco, I am really not…”
“Harry, just trust me on this,” Draco said firmly, he didn’t want to explain himself here, not when just about anyone in the whole library could over hear them. This was personal, for the both of them, it needed complete privacy.
Harry let out a huffy noise and, leaving the book on the table, he got to his feet and let Draco lead them out of the library. They walked the familiar route towards the dungeons in companionable silence, Harry letting his feet wander without thought, trusting Draco to lead them the right way. He was assuming that they were heading towards the Slytherin common room, but then Draco took an unexpected turn.
“Erm, Draco?” Harry asked, the new route having pulled him from his thoughts. “Where are we going?” he questioned as the blond turned to look at him.
“What happened to trusting me?” Draco asked, but his tone was teasing and he kept on leading them along a corridor that Harry wasn’t familiar with. Harry scowled at his friend’s back but continued to follow him; he was actually rather curious now, if he was honest with himself. “It isn’t much further,” the blond assured him.
“Do I at least get a clue?” Harry asked impatiently, in a sulk as they rounded another corner.
“Stop your complaining, we’re here,” Draco said, coming to a stop quite suddenly in the middle of a corridor. There were no doors close by and no windows either, not even the creepy ones that looked beneath the lake like in the Slytherin common room. It was just a corridor lined with portraits.
“Here?” Harry asked, with confusion. “Draco, I don’t…”
“Look, Harry,” Draco interrupted, gesturing up at the wall next to them.
With an expression of confusion, Harry turned to look at the wall; it took him a few seconds to realise what he was looking at. “Dad,” he said, his voice almost a plea, his fingers reaching up and running over the paint as thought to check that it was real.
“Hello, Harry,” the portrait of Severus said. It showed a young hook-nosed man, dressed entirely in black robes, sat stiffly in a large chair. “Draco, here, has told me a lot about you,” he said, watching Harry with his dark eyes that bore into him, just like Harry remembered.
“You don’t know me though,” Harry said sadly, tears running down his cheeks. For a moment he thought he might have a small connection to his Dad again, but this was torturous; this picture looked and sounded like a younger version of his father but it wasn’t the man who had raised him.
“I am a portrait, Harry,” Severus stated; the tone was the same one that he used to use when pointing out something that he thought Harry should have figured out by himself.
“I know that,” Harry told him, turning to glare at Draco through tear filled eyes. “Why? Why would you bring me here?!” he asked angrily. “Just to… just…” his voice caught in his throat. “Just to torture me with little more than a ghost of my dead father?!”
“Merlin, Harry, no,” Draco said looking rather alarmed by Harry reaction. “I wanted to talk to you somewhere private; I wanted to show you this was here because I thought that if anyone had a right to see it, it was you; and most of all I wanted to tell you that he isn’t.”
“Isn’t what?” Harry asked, pacing around in the corridor, not knowing whether he wanted to run away or stay there with the only remaining connection to his father.
“Dead, Harry,” Draco told him. “Severus isn’t dead.”
“What…?” Harry queried, stopping and turning to stare at the blond in disbelief. Surely he had misheard that, it was impossible, it couldn’t be. “Explain,” Harry demanded, lowering himself to the floor, his back against the wall across from his Dad’s portrait.
“Dumbledore inadvertently informed me as much,” Draco told him, taking a seat next to his friend. He was rather against sitting on the floor, which was likely not only cold but filthy, but on this one occasion, for this important conversation, he would bare it.
“Draco, seriously this is killing me, just tell me what you know,” Harry pleaded; he couldn’t handle this slow trickle of information which was breaking his heart. “Where is my father? And how can you be sure he is alive.”
“I don’t know where,” Draco admitted, “but Dumbledore told me that he has your kidnapper trapped under some horrible spell.”
“My Dad didn’t kidnap me,” Harry snapped angrily; he had had more than enough of people trampling over his childhood and everything he knew about himself. Part of him knew that there was certainly some truth in what they were saying but it just didn’t matter. Severus Prince was his father and a good man; that was never going to change.
“Whoa,” Draco said as he held his hands up in surrender; clearly it was a sore subject. “I never said he did, just the messenger here,” he pointed out.
Harry rested his head in his hands, not even trying to hold back his tears and he cried in earnest. It was all too much; guilt for having gone on with his life when his Dad was probably suffering; hope that he might be able to save his Dad and see him again; anger at those who had stolen his Dad from him.
“You know why Dumbledore has him though, right?” Draco asked hesitantly after a few minutes when Harry's crying seemed to ease off a little, not sure how to handle Harry's tears. He had a few ideas of his own about what the headmaster was up to and he wanted to know if the other boy agreed with his assessment of the situation.
Harry looked up at him with dawning realisation, his eyes red and cheeks tear streaked. “To control me," he said in a quiet and sad voice. "To make me do whatever it is he wanted me at this school for.”
“That would be my guess,” Draco agreed, resting his head back against the wall.
“I have to help him,” Harry said decisively. That fact was clear in his mind more than any other. He wouldn’t allow his father to suffer because of him; if Dumbledore wanted something from him then he was going to give it to him. Whatever it took to get his Dad back, safe.
“And how are you going to do that? You have no idea where he is; or even what kind of spell he is under or how to reverse it,” Draco pointed out.
“I have to do something,” Harry snapped back at him angrily, thinking that picking flaws in the plan was not helping at all.
“What are you, a Gryffindor?” the portrait of Severus asked, sounding somewhat disapproving. The portrait of the potions master was looking down his hooked nose at the boys in a way that Harry had never known his father to use with him before.
Harry looked up at the youthful image of his father and sighed; this imitation of his Dad was right, even if it didn’t act much like the man he remembered. He couldn’t just plough through this and hope it worked out okay in the end, he had to think about what he was going to do, he needed a plan. “I’m going to play his game and see what he wants,” Harry decided.
“That sounds like a much better plan,” Draco said, admiring the Slytherin streak that Harry had, though not quite approving of the Gryffindor thinking to begin with.
“But not yet,” Harry said decisively. “He has to keep my dad alive, otherwise he’s no use to him, whatever he wants from me I’m not about to make it easy for him. Words cannot express how much I hate Albus Dumbledore right now.”
“A meddlesome fool that one,” the portrait of Severus said.
“You told me I couldn’t trust him, Dad,” Harry said to the portrait. “I guess you were right.” He sighed, wishing that his Dad was with him to help him, to point him in the right direction. He really missed him.
“Are you going to tell the others?” Draco asked curiously, thinking about how close he was with Clayton and Romy. He had found it hard enough just telling Harry, he wasn’t sure how Harry was going to go about telling his pack brother and sister; he didn’t even know if either Clayton or Romy knew Severus, but now didn’t seem like the time for such questions.
“I don’t think so, not yet at least. I don’t want to worry them, plus they’d only encourage me to tell Fenrir and I don’t think that would go very well.”
Harry knew that his Dad and his mate were never going to be the best of friends. It would complicate everything now that his Dad was alive. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere other than the pack but he didn’t think that his Dad would be thrilled to move into a forest clearing; and then of course there was the question of what he would do on the full moons. Yeah, not complicated at all, he thought with heavy sarcasm. Harry just didn’t want to deal with thinking about it.
“Why not?” Draco asked; he had been rather under the impression that the three young werewolves were the types to share all their secrets with each other, though admittedly Harry had been sorted into Slytherin for a reason.
Harry didn’t even know where to start trying to explain that really, at least not in a way that Draco would understand without a long and tedious conversation. “I have a feeling that my Dad and Fenrir wouldn’t get along very well,” he told the blond, hoping that Draco would be able to just accepted that at face value.
“So you’re just going to keep secrets?” Draco queried. It wasn’t that he was against such an option, but it was likely that Harry’s fellow werewolves might well prove the best hope for rescuing Severus in one piece; he spared a short moment to acknowledge the strangeness of the world he now found himself in, where he actually had faith in werewolves.
“Not indefinitely,” Harry explained; he didn’t think he could even he wanted to in all honesty. “But for the moment, yes,” he added. He simply wasn’t ready to share the information yet, at least not until he had figured out what he wanted to do with it. Part of him feared that if his mate found out the truth about what Dumbledore was doing, then Fenrir would remove him from Hogwarts to protect him. That wasn’t something that he could allow to happen, not yet at least.
Draco gave a low, impressed whistle. “Wow,” he said, looking to Harry as if he were the bravest man he had ever known, “keeping secrets from Fenrir Greyback, you’re a braver man than me.”
“The Fenrir that you know… he isn’t like that anymore,” Harry said with a frown, he didn’t like the way everyone just assumed his mate was a vicious killer. Admittedly, Harry had seen that side of him, but Harlan had deserved it; Fenrir had been pushed to that point.
“He’s nothing like what I’ve read about him so far,” Harry went on, though even as he said this he couldn’t help but think of just how much brutal pleasure and effort that the Alpha male had put into the torturing and death of Harlan. Maybe what he had read so far wasn’t that far off; it certainly made him wonder but he at least owed his mate a chance to explain.
“You’ve been reading up about him?” Draco asked in surprise. He had vaguely got the impression that Harry was not familiar with the stories told about his mate, but that he felt the need to do research to understand other people’s reactions seemed to imply that maybe the werewolf Harry knew was not the monster the wizarding world had been led to believe.
“Yeah, I wanted to know what all the fuss was about, every time someone’s heard his name… I had to know,” Harry told him with a sigh. Today had certainly been one hell of a day and Harry was just about ready for it to be over; he felt emotionally battered and bruised.
“Then believe what you know of him, that’s what matters, right?” Draco asked, looking at Harry rather intently, trying to figure out what it was that he was thinking. It wasn’t as though Draco could believe that Harry would allow himself to suffer at the hands of a murdering lunatic and then speak so highly and so fondly of him.
“Right… but then why can I not get it out of my head that he used to bite kids for shits and giggles?" Harry asked; it was a question he had been asking himself ever since he had read that particular passage about Fenrir. It certainly tallied with what he had known about his mate already, but everything seemed to be exaggerated and Harry wasn’t sure what to believe about any of it. "I mean, he bit me before I was two.”
He really wished that he was home, snuggled in his mate’s arms where everything was less complicated; for a moment it was difficult to remember why he had ever thought coming here was a good idea. But then he looked up. The subject of the portrait hanging in front of him was the reason; he wanted the truth about his past and his father, and now he had to save him.
“I’m not the person to ask, Harry,” Draco said kindly, pulling him from his spiralling thoughts that were only going to make him feel ten times worse if he allowed himself to carry on thinking this way.
Again, Harry sighed. “I know but thank you,” he said. He turned to smile at his fellow Slytherin, grateful that he was there and that Draco had taken the time to talk to him despite the foul mood he had been in. Harry found himself glad that he hadn’t pushed Draco away in the library as he had wanted to. He had learnt so much today.
“For what?” Draco asked curiously, not sure what he was being thanked for. He wasn’t aware that he had done anything that warranted being thanked at all.
“For listening to my rant, for showing me this, for telling me about my Dad, for just being my friend,” Harry told him, staring up at the portrait of his father. The image of the potions master remained very quiet, simply observing the two teenagers talking in front of him with his piercing gaze that many might have found disturbing but was nothing but comfortingly familiar to Harry.
“You’re welcome,” Draco returned, feeling a little awkward about it. He didn’t feel entirely comfortable with being thanked for that, not when he had his own ulterior motives for telling Harry what he had. These were motives that eventually they would talk about but it was very clear to Draco that today was not the day to go into all the details: they could wait for a little while longer. It didn’t seem as if Harry was going to be going anywhere any time soon.
After a few moments of silence, where Harry was clearly contemplating something, the young werewolf finally spoke. “I don’t know why but I just feel comfortable with you,” he tried to explain. “You smell familiar,” he concluded, still thinking hard on this matter. He was still getting used to his extra sensitive nose, it was certainly more acute than what he was accustomed to. The different scents he picked up confused him greatly but there was something about Draco and his scent that was almost homely.
“My mum said we shared a crib as babies for a little while, maybe that’s it,” Draco mused, a little concerned that Harry was commenting on how he smelt. He had always believed that he had very good levels of personal hygiene and didn’t smell.
Harry shrugged. “Maybe. Though, I wasn’t a werewolf then…” He thought about it for a moment more before deciding that it really didn’t need to take up any valuable space in his head right now. He had too many other things to think about; on this he was sure he could just trust his instincts. “Ah well, it doesn’t really matter,” he said with a smile to Draco who returned the small smile with his friend.
FGHP
Clayton’s absence was becoming more evident. Harry and Romy were just getting ready for bed in the Slytherin fifth year boys dormitory and the fact that Clay wasn’t with them hung heavily in the air, very much unspoken but still something that they couldn't shake their awareness of. Instead they chose to discuss topics that didn’t involve their irrationally angry pack brother.
“So what was wrong with you this morning?” Romy asked curiously as she pulled Clay’s t-shirt over her head; it still smelt like him a little, though it was fading now as she had been wearing it to sleep in since she came down here. “You left in a hurry.”
“It’s my Dad’s birthday today,” Harry explained as he too pulled on a t-shirt. “I miss him and I guess I just needed some space to deal with that,” he told her.
“So it isn’t anything to worry about?” she asked. “Because I can’t have both you and Clay to worry over, he’s enough hassle.”
Harry laughed. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he assured her softly, hating that he was hiding things from her but knowing that it was for the best. “What about you, do I need to be worried about you?”
“Worried about me, why would you be?” Romy asked, curiously as she climbed into bed, snuggling herself under the blankets, though she remained sitting up, looking at Harry as he gracelessly threw his discarded items of clothing in the general direction of his trunk. She rolled her eyes at the fact that Harry was even messier at school than he was in the clearing.
“Don’t you have that meeting with your parents tomorrow?” Harry asked, wondering if he had got his days muddled. However, the look of concern that crossed Romy’s face told him that he hadn’t.
“Honestly?” she asked and Harry nodded, going to join her in bed as Draco came in and started to get himself ready for bed. “I’m trying not to think about it too much.” As she said this, Romy determinedly didn't look in Draco's direction, feeling a little awkward about the fact that he had removed his shirt, seemingly without even thinking.
Harry was slightly distracted as Blaise suddenly walked in and didn't notice Romy's sudden weirdness around Draco; he hadn’t seen Blaise all day, not since he had stunned the larger Slytherin boy and then wandered off with Cedric. Blaise didn’t even glance in Harry’s direction but the fact that they were in the same room together was enough to muddle Harry’s thoughts a little. Apparently he had gotten too caught up in the other boys arrival, because Romy was giving him a slightly questioning look.
“Sorry, Romy, you were trying not to think about it too much,” he said, trying to regain his focus. The hesitation and the uncertainty was clear enough for Romy to have picked up on it and look at him in confusion.
“Yeah, but what’s up with you and Zabini?” Romy asked, her voice a hushed whisper so that Blaise didn’t hear them across the room.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not Clayton, not Fenrir, not even Jenson or Callie?” Harry asked; he knew that he needed to tell someone and despite feeling close to Draco they didn’t share the same connection that Harry did with his pack members. He knew that telling Clayton was out of the question, even if they were on speaking terms, because his best friend was likely just to fly off the handle.
Fenrir too would not take kindly to the information and Jenson would only tell the Alpha anyway, as his position as Beta wolf dictated he should. Callie would never feel comfortable enough keeping the secret and Harry never wanted her in that position. If he had had the option then he might have talked to Micha about it but that wasn’t going to happen. Romy was the next best thing.
“I promise,” she said after a moment of hesitation. She too disliked keeping secrets from those that they loved, but after weighing up the pros and cons in her mind, she decided that she would rather have Harry share whatever was bothering him with her than bottle it up. At least that way she would know and then she could make the decision about whether or not the grown-ups needed to know.
“Blaise jumped me this morning, after I left the Great Hall,” Harry whispered. He cast a wary glance over to where Blaise was changing. He had his back to them and was down to his boxers as he changed into his pyjamas.
“He did what?” Romy hissed, anger coursing through her at his words. She glared over at Blaise as without a care in the world he dropped his boxers before pulling on a pair of drawstring trousers for bed, remaining shirtless. “As in…”
“As in... tried to get it on with me. But please don’t make a big deal out of it, it was my fault really,” Harry explained quickly, feeling extremely annoyed at himself more than anything. He should never have flirted with the teenager so openly and outrageously; it had been a good laugh but if Harry had thought there was an ounce of truth to Blaise wanting him, then he wouldn’t have been so relentless with his teasing.
“How could that be your fault?” Romy asked, her forehead scrunched up as she tried to follow Harry’s thoughts.
“You’ve been around us, Romy, I kind of goaded him into it,” Harry said with a shrug. “It honestly doesn’t matter, I pushed him off, he didn’t do anything.” The last thing he wanted was for fuss about it; if Blaise was going to pretend nothing happened, he could go along with that.
“But he would have… if you hadn’t pushed him away?” Romy asked, wondering just how far Blaise had tried to push her pack brother.
“Yeah, that much was very clear, he knew what he wanted and when he didn’t get it he resorted to a duel, which I won.” There wasn’t a single ounce of pride in Harry’s voice at this declaration, which told Romy more than she needed to know.
“You have to tell…”
“No, I really don’t.” Harry stated flatly, “What do you think will happen if I tell Fenrir that another student tried to get me to have sex with him?”
“Umm..” Romy didn’t want to think about what Fenrir would do, only because images of him torturing Harlan came to the forefront of her mind. That wasn’t something that she ever wanted to see or hear again.
“Exactly,” Harry said pointedly. “If Blaise died quickly it would be a miracle. It’s not worth it, so Fenrir can’t find out. I dealt with it, nothing happened, that should be the end of the matter.”
“But it isn’t,” Romy said determinedly, she wanted to make Harry see that it wasn’t nothing, that what Blaise had done was huge. “He attacked you, can’t you tell a teacher or something?”
“I know you don’t believe this but it really was my fault,” Harry said. “What was I thinking flirting with him like that at the pool game? I’ve been in that clearing far too long, lost the connection to the real world. That level of teasing is fine in the pack and with our family but it’s not okay here.”
“It was a joke, Harry, everyone knew it was a joke. He knows you aren’t really interested now at least,” Romy conceded begrudgingly; even if Harry wasn’t prepared to talk to someone then at least Blaise would know such advances weren’t welcome.
“Yeah, well my interest in participating didn’t seem high on his list of concerns,” Harry grumbled under his breath; he couldn’t help but think how, despite making his unwillingness plain, Blaise had still refused to let him go.
“Never mind the Alpha, I’ll kill him myself,” Romy said, picking up the muttered grumble and seeing red. Harry had to grab at her wrist to prevent her getting out of bed and doing something she would regret later. He hadn’t really meant to say that out loud, and certainly not for her to hear it.
“No, you won’t,” Harry said firmly, not wanting her to get into trouble and not really wanting anyone else to know what happened. “Leave him, he’s really not worth it.”
“He bothers you again…” Romy said, her eyes narrowed as her voice trailed off in an unspoken warning.
Harry couldn’t help but smile at the promise of great suffering in Blaise’s future if he couldn’t learn to keep his hands, and other body parts, to himself. “You can beat him to within an inch of his life, I promise,” he agreed, knowing that he wouldn’t have a choice in the matter anyway; there was no way his pack siblings would ever knowingly allow any harm to come to him and vice versa.
“I’m not joking, Harry,” Romy told him sternly. “Clay and I are here to protect you, Alpha’s orders. I think we’re all forgetting that a little. We’re not here for classes or to make friends; you wanted answers and we’re here to look after you.”
“I love you, Romy, I really, really do,” Harry said with a smile. “Let’s just forget it, we have classes in the morning and you have that meeting with your parents; it’s going to be a long day.”
With those final words and Harry placing a quick kiss to her cheek they drew the curtains around the four poster bed and settled down to sleep. Harry was more than thrilled at the company this evening; if Romy hadn’t been there then he honestly would have worried about being in a dormitory with Blaise.
At least with his pack sister sleeping beside him, Blaise couldn’t and wouldn’t try anything, meaning that Harry could sleep easier. Today, however, had taught him one thing and that was not to trust lightly; as Romy had said, they weren’t here to be students, they were here for answers. In that respect Harry had taken a great leap forward, not that he could tell Romy this; at least, not yet.

Hope you enjoyed the new chapter. We would love to hear your thoughts, so do leave us a review.

mrequecky - Glad you are enjoying the story, and don't worry we have lots to go yet, we are actually in the process of writing chapter 49 at the moment, though the chapters before that still need to be edited before we can post them ^_^ Also, good luck with your exam(s)

Jan - Not Fenrir ;)

LeVeen - We do like to spoil you guys. :D But yes, we couldn't resist the naught cliff-hanger, but at least you have some resolution to that now. ^_^
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