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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
- 34
- 35
- 36
Okay after the rather evil April Fools teaser for this chapter that we posted on facebook we had to give you the real chapter as an apology. For those that missed it...
Fragmented Soul, Chapter 35 - Affair! Teaser....
"What about Harry?" Micha asked, looking up at Fenrir with wide, surprised eyes, all thoughts of Damon gone from his mind as the Alpha encompassed him in strong arms.

"Harry will never find out," Fenrir responded, smashing his lips against Micha's, silencing the submissive wolf.
This (below) is the real chapter!

Fragmented Soul
Chapter 35 – Reconciliation
Monday morning was never going to be a morning that anyone looked forward to; Romy and Harry were no exception to this rule. It had been a difficult weekend for Harry, what with everything he had learnt over the two days without classes; and, seeing as it had been his Dad’s birthday too, it had been especially trying.
The things that he had learnt about Fenrir were stomach churning alone without the added knowledge that his father wasn’t dead as he believed him to be. It had taken him a few hours to get over the shock after Draco had told him this. He had grieved and started to come to terms with the fact that his Dad was gone, that his life was different now; he certainly hadn't expected for him to suddenly be alive again.
Romy too was struggling that morning as she pulled on her loathed uniform; her weekend had not been as bad as the one her pack brother had had but today was not going to be a good day regardless. Tonight, after dinner, she was going to have to go through with seeing her parents again, something that she wasn’t looking forward to in the least.
“That’s it, I’ve made an executive decision,” Harry announced as he headed up for breakfast, with Romy, Draco, Astoria and Daphne walking with him. Blaise and the others were trailing behind them, not including themselves as part of the rest of the group, much to the pleasure of Romy and Harry who could have quite happily have never seen Zabini ever again.
Draco looked to his friend in amusement. “Oh, have you now,” he said dryly. He didn't think that he would ever become accustomed to the three werewolves and their unique ways but he found that he really didn't mind having them around.
Romy laughed. It was a little reassuring to see her pack brother being proactive and headstrong; this was the boy she knew and loved, he had been so unlike himself the previous day and she had been a little concerned. “Should we be worried?” she asked, knowing that Harry’s decisions were not always the most well thought out.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Harry said vaguely, a determined gleam in his emerald eyes. “But I’m going to make sure that Clay is talking to us by the end of the day,” he told them decisively. He had enough to be dealing with at the moment without Clay being miserable over some unknown issue. Not to mention that he was feeling annoyed that Clay would abandon Romy with all she had to deal with at the moment; particularly given the fact he supposedly loved her.
“I’d say we have something to be worried about then,” Romy teased as they reached the Great Hall. Quietly she was glad though; Clay’s attitude and absence were really starting to become hard to deal with and she was more than a little keen for the two boys to work out their issues. They needed to be united while they were here and she knew it would worry the grownups to know that they were divided right now.
“You going to be okay with these guys?” Harry asked Romy, as he located Clayton with his eyes; Clay was sitting at the Gryffindor table, with two identical red heads, looking entirely miserable.
“Why, where are you going?” Romy asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. She had assumed that they would have breakfast first before Harry started putting his scheme into action; she was also curious, and perhaps a little apprehensive, to see how her pack brother was intending to fix things.
“To talk to Clay,” Harry explained motioning over to where he was sitting. “So, will you be okay?” He wasn’t going to go unless he was certain Romy would be okay without him. The conversation with Clay could wait until later if it needed to, or else Romy could come with him; but he really wanted a moment to talk to his best friend alone.
“Sure,” Romy said with a smile, glad that Harry was going for direct and simple with this. She had half expected for him to come up with some complex plan to trick Clay into talking to them or something; this was one occasion on which she was glad to be mistaken.
She had no problem giving Harry and Clayton time to talk, part of her wanted to be there too but she could understand Harry wanting to do it himself; besides, she liked the Slytherins and she could already see that Luna was coming over to join them as well.
“We’ll look after her,” Draco reassured Harry, who only looked amused by this; there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that Romy could take care of herself physically, even though she was only fourteen; she had killed a man, after all. Emotionally, however, was another matter and on that front it was going to be a trying day.
“I’ll talk to you at lunch,” he said, giving her a quick kiss to the cheek and heading over to the Gryffindor table with determination as the others went to take their seats with the other Slytherins. Romy took a seat as far away from Blaise as she could.
Harry, without even bothering to introduce himself, dropped himself in the vacant seat beside Clayton and started pouring out a mug coffee. “I hear you get brownies for breakfast over here,” he said as he loaded the coffee with sugar before sliding it over to Clayton who was looking at his pack brother in confusion.
Harry then proceeded to pour out a mug of tea for himself, noting that the twins were grinning at him in amusement, trying to work out what to say or do with the teenager who had just sat down with them as if they had all known each other years. “Umm, hi,” one of them said, still smiling.
“I’m Fred and this is George,” the other twin said, watching the new addition to their table carefully. They had spent a few days getting to know Clay now and had heard one or two of the tales of things the two boys had gotten up to growing up, so it was nice to finally get to meet Clay’s best friend. That he was Harry Prince was, of course, an additional curiosity, but nothing next to his apparently mastery of pranks.
“I’m Harry, but you already knew that,” he said, shaking the hands of each of the red-heads in turn. Clayton seemed comfortable around them so Harry thought they were probably okay, and any other day he might have tried to get to know them, but today he needed to focus of Romy and Clayton. “So come on fess up, where are they? I need brownies!”
Clayton, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, reached down to the bench on the opposite side to him than where Harry was sitting and brought up a small plate of the gooiest chocolate brownies that Harry had even seen. “I didn’t want Romy to take them away again,” he grumbled.
“Come on, you’ll need the sugar high, we have Slughorn for potions this morning,” Harry said as he helped himself to one of the brownies. He risked a glance over to where Romy was sitting and was fairly amused to see the look of disapproval on her face as she spotted the brownies. Harry knew that it was taking a lot of self restraint on her part not to come over and say anything. Harry was grateful when she turned away from them and resumed her conversation with Luna and Astoria.
“We’ll leave you two to it,” one of the twins said as they both got up, taking their breakfasts with them and heading off further down the table. If Harry hadn’t been so determined to fix things with his best friend, then he might have felt bad about unseating them but as it was he couldn’t have cared less, not when he was finally getting a response from Clay.
Clayton waited until the twins were gone before he looked to his pack brother. “Harry…” he began, sounding irritated. He liked Fred and George; they were kindred spirits, especially when it came to causing trouble and he really wasn’t in the mood for whatever Harry had to say right now.
“I know, just…” Harry began, dropping the joking façade he had been putting out to hide how upset and uncomfortable he really was. “Can we pretend that we’re not fighting, just for a little bit? I need my best friend.”
Clayton sighed, “I’m not sure I want to…” he began and Harry, realising that Clay was going to be stubborn about it and knowing that they really didn’t have time for stubborn before their first class of the day, grabbed the red and gold scarf that Clay had hung round his neck and wrapped it round his own. “Hey!” the Gryffindor exclaimed in protest.
“You be as stubborn as you want Clayton but we’re family. When you want your scarf back, you come and talk to me,” Harry said with stern authority in his tone just like the mini-Alpha that he was in the absence of his mate.
Taking advantage of the fact that he had manage to render Clayton speechless, Harry got up, taking his tea, a half eaten brownie, plus one for the road and left the Gryffindor table without looking back. Heading directly for the exit and his first class of the day.
Just as he walked into the entrance hall, he almost collided with Professor McGonagall, who was looking stern as ever; however, she did seem to be slightly bemused by the combination of the Slytherin tie and Gryffindor scarf around Harry’s neck. It wasn't something that was an everyday occurrence at Hogwarts; typically the two houses hated each other.
“Mr Prince,” she said, capturing Harry’s attention before he went to walk off. Harry paused and looked at her questioningly, waiting to hear what she wanted. “The headmaster as asked to see you over lunch,” she told him.
“Thank you,” Harry said as politely as was possible, an added smile on his face as he addressed her. “But could you very kindly tell Headmaster Dumbledore to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Before Professor McGonagall could say another word, Harry had turned on his heel and was heading towards the dungeons for his first class of the day. He didn’t care what anyone said, he wasn’t ready to see the headmaster yet. He had only found out the day before that Dumbledore was holding his Dad hostage. Before he went to see the headmaster he needed to get his head wrapped around the fact that his Dad was alive and come up with some form of game plan.
He was determined that he was going to show no form of weakness when it came to this infuriating old man. He would keep calm, remain level headed and deal with Dumbledore calmly. For that though he needed to take a few days. The headmaster would keep his Dad alive; he needed him and that gave Harry a spark of hope that they would both come out of the other end of this ordeal alive.
FGHP
Harry was the first one to arrive in the dungeon classroom for potions and the first thing he noticed was that the classroom was absolutely freezing as the burners for the cauldron’s had not been lit. Wrapping Clay’s scarf tightly around his neck, Harry settled down at his usual desk in the middle of the room to wait for the others to arrive. Draco, Daphne, Blaise and the other Slytherin fifth years were the next to arrive, Draco sitting beside Harry and giving him a rather bemused look as the others settled down in their seats.
“This may seem to be a slightly odd question, but why are you wearing a Gryffindor scarf?” Draco queried as he removed his potion book from his bag and placed it upon the table.
Harry shrugged, not really wanting to explain exactly why, “They’re warmer than the Slytherin ones,” he said. “Personally I think it’s a conspiracy to freeze us Slytherins to death,” he added with a grin. “Though they didn’t expect us to be smart enough to figure it out and steal the warmer scarves from unsuspecting Gryffindors.”
Draco just looked at him as if he had grown an extra head as he finished his rant about scarves; the blond was starting to wish that he hadn’t asked at all. With a shake of his head he turned his attention to his potions book, flipping to the page he knew they would be studying today. “You’ve thought way too much about this,” he said, though he was highly amused by that fact.
Blaise had not taken his usual seat behind Harry and Draco, preferring to sit further back, which put him in the firing line as the Gryffindors entered the room; Ron, Dean and Seamus leading their way. Harry watched them from the corner of his eye warily as Dean fired a tickling charm at Blaise, which he blocked with little effort with his potions book.
Harry had noticed that the sandy haired wizard, Seamus, never really got involved in the duels and name calling, though he did seem to be rather close to the other two boneheads who started all the fights. Harry didn’t have much time to dwell on these thoughts however, as he noticed Clayton coming in, taking his usual seat to the back of the classroom on his own, only just getting himself settled when Professor Slughorn walked in.
The potions master was about five feet tall, bald and very overweight; he had rather distinguishable gooseberry coloured eyes and a rather prominent silver walrus-like moustache that took over most of the lower half of his face. There was something about him and the way he peered at his students that made Harry not like him very much. The man had never done much to earn this distrust, it was just a sense that Harry got from him that he couldn’t explain.
“Today we’re going to be brewing a babbling beverage; can anyone tell me the use of such a potion?” Slughorn asked and, as usual, the bushy haired Gryffindor girl called Hermione shot her hand up in the air before anyone else had a chance. “Miss Granger?”
“It’s a potion that causes uncontrollable speaking of nonsense in the drinker,” she said rather matter-of-factly. Draco looked to Harry, rolling his eyes and making him laugh a little.
“Very good, five points to Gryffindor; now, Mr Prince perhaps, since you find it so funny you could tell me the key ingredients to this potion,” Slughorn said, turning to the Slytherin side of the room. Almost at once, Hermione’s hand shot straight up in the air, desperate to answer the question for him.
“Armadillo bile, billywig stings, leech juice and water,” Harry drawled lazily as if it were very little challenge to him at all, then paused, right before Slughorn was about to continue he added, “but if you add the billywig stings too soon the potion is nothing more than goop, useless. You need to add it gradually, while stirring anti-clockwise between the armadillo bile and the leech juice.”
“Very good Prince,” Slughorn said, nodding his head in approval. “That is very impressive,” he told him, though Harry looked honestly rather bored. He knew how good he was at potions and being told so, by some old man who was actually rather creepy, was of no interest to him. “Fifteen points to Slytherin, though please do refrain from talking in class again, Mr Prince.”
Harry rolled his eyes at the professor, as the old man turned back to the board. He couldn’t help but smirk when he caught sight of the put out expression on Hermione’s face, as though he had personally stolen house points she believed herself entitled too; though it was possible that she simply didn’t like the idea of anyone actually being as clever as she was.
“Favouritism,” Harry heard Ron mutter from across the room, though no one else seemed to have heard other than Dean who was sitting beside him. It was only thanks to Harry’s werewolf hearing that he was aware of the deep growl from the back of the class, knowing that it meant that Clay had heard Ron’s words too.
“As I said before, we will be attempting to brew the babbling beverage today, but you will not be working alone. I shall be pairing our more competent students with those a little less… talented,” Slughorn informed them, oblivious to the tension between several members of the class. “Prince, Danes, will you two pair up please; Malfoy and Weasley...”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Ron exclaimed with a look of disgust on his face at being paired with Draco.
“Not sure what he’s complaining about, at least I can brew a potion,” Draco grumbled under his breath making Harry have to smother a laugh. “I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t blow us both up.”
“You’re quick with a shield charm right?” Harry asked with a wink. “Maybe he will just blow himself up and do us all a favour.” The thought of Ron blowing himself up was certainly an appealing thought. He had been about to suggest that perhaps Draco might think of messing up the potion on purpose for just such a result when he realised that Slughorn was glaring at him.
“Prince, no talking!” Slughorn said sternly, having stopped reading out partners to glare at the two Slytherin boys.
“Sorry, sir,” Harry said quickly, though he was obviously rather amused and didn’t look remotely repentant. Slughorn looked disapprovingly at them one final time before going back to pairing them all up.
“Zabini and Finnegan, Granger and Crabbe,” Slughorn went on. With each pair of names he called out there was a groan of complaint. It seemed the potions master had managed to find someone objectionable for almost every student. “Okay, everyone move, please,” he instructed, clapping his hands together as the students began changing seats unhappily.
The fact that Hermione had ended up with Crabbe was hilarious to Harry and Draco, who could hardly managed to keep straight faces as the Gryffindor girl grimaced at her partner. Ron was glaring daggers at Draco as he moved over to sit with the blond, Harry vacating his seat to go to Clay.
“Good luck surviving,” Harry whispered to Hermione as he passed and she dealt him a swift glare as she took her seat beside Crabbe who appeared to be reading the potions text. She thought was a good sign, until she realised that it was upside down.
Harry moved to the back of the classroom where Clay, for the first time in his life, seemed more interested in the book in front of him than what was going on around him. He didn’t seem to even realise that Harry had even taken the seat next to him. Harry would have thought that he was being given the cold shoulder if it hadn’t been for Clayton asking, without turning to look at him, “Can I have my scarf back?”
“Are you going to talk to me?” Harry asked as he unpacked his bag for the second time, setting everything out that they were going to need. He could brew this potion with his eyes closed, in the dark with one hand tied behind his back but he knew that Clay would need a little bit of help.
“Nope, I’m not,” Clayton said, still refusing to look up from his textbook, though he appeared to be glaring at just the one word rather than reading anything.
“Then no and don’t look so miserable,” Harry told him. “It could be worse, you could have to spend the lesson with Granger flirting with you,” Harry pointed out with a grin, nudging his best friend with his elbow, but Clayton just gave him a filthy look.
“Maybe I’d prefer that,” he bit back grumpily.
“I could always flirt with you instead,” Harry teased, just wanting to break the tension between them. But then a slightly nauseated expression crossed his face as he thought about actually doing so. “But that would almost be practically incest, which is a little gross,” he explained quickly.
Clayton snorted in amusement, glad to know that Harry wasn’t about to start hitting on him; that would have just been disturbing. “Well at least we can agree on that,” he conceded.
Harry sighed. “We agree on lots of things, Clay,” he said pointedly. It seemed that they were finally going to get to the bottom of whatever Clayton’s sultry mood was all about, they were at least talking and that had to count for something.
“Not recently,” Clay retorted, only making Harry roll his eyes in exasperation. It seemed that Clay was determined to keep throwing obstacles the way if them making up.
“Why,” Harry demanded, “just because things are a little different? You’re still my best friend,” he said rather stubbornly. On this point he was sure, they were best friends and no toddler style temper tantrum was going to change that.
“You’re not acting like it,” Clay snapped. Part of him wondered if maybe Harry was right; was it just that things were different? It wasn’t like they were in Ingleton any more, the move to the Pack had shaken things up for the two of them as well; maybe their friendship just didn’t react well to change. However, they had survived before as friends and they could get through this.
Harry had to grit his teeth together he was so frustrated with Clay’s behaviour. He desperately wanted to give him a clip round the ear and tell him to stop being so damn stubborn and just talk it out with him. “I keep trying; you aren’t exactly working with me here, Clayton.”
“It’s always about you, isn’t it,” Clayton hissed rather hatefully; Harry, however, just gave him a pointed look. He would rather it wasn’t about him any day of the week, he hated it. He would have much rather have been settled in the clearing with his mate, unaware of any of the crap that was currently going on around him but it couldn’t happen like that. He really needed Clay to understand that.
“I damn well wish it wasn’t, and you know it,” Harry bit back rather impatiently. Hogwarts wasn’t somewhere either of them wanted to be but they were here and they would see it through to the end.
“Prince, Danes! Stop talking and start brewing,” Slughorn called out from across the room and the two werewolves turned to glare at him in annoyance. They had more or less forgotten that they were still in the middle of class, and a few students had turned to look at them.
“I could brew this with my eyes closed, whilst flying a broom,” Harry snapped at the portly teacher. “I’ll brew the damn potion, just shush and let me talk to my friend.” He had worked hard enough to even get Clay to start talking to him and he wasn’t going to let some stupid potions lesson get in the way of mending his relationship with his best friend.
A collection of gasps sounded around the classroom at the way Harry had spoken to the professor. Harry half knew he was pushing it, but the man could throw him in detention, take away house points, or whatever, but he was still going to talk to Clayton while he didn’t have any other choice other than listen to what he had to say or walk out of class.
“Fifteen points from Slytherin,” Slughorn said with a scowl of disapproval, “for speaking so rudely to a professor. It will be another ten if you fail to successfully complete your potion before the end of the lesson,” he added.
Harry shrugged; he knew he would be able to brew the potion, but a few lost points were a small price to pay for the conversation he needed to have with Clay. Not wanting to be interrupted or overheard again, he cast a simple privacy spell around the pair of them and turned back to his rather annoyed looking best friend.
“Keep talking,” Harry said, as he set up the cauldron to start brewing. “Because believe it or not I do want to hear whatever it is that is bothering you,” he told Clayton, knowing that getting him to even argue had been a huge step forward.
“Being a show off really does just come naturally to you, doesn’t it,” Clayton said grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest.
Harry wanted to pull his hair out, wondering why Clayton was in such a foul mood all the time at the moment; surely even sleep deprivation wouldn’t be enough to make him this upset. He was going to have to shock him out of this, so they could get passed these walls Clay kept putting up and actually start talking.
“My Dad’s alive, Dumbledore’s behind it; Blaise attacked me; Romy’s been sleeping in Slytherin dormitories with me as I don’t think she’s coping very well with this whole parents coming back thing and we both miss you and just want you to talk to us again,” Harry stated, as he selected a bottles of armadillo bile and leech juice, and placed them on the desk ready for use.
“Wait … what? … Care to repeat any of that for me?” Clay asked, taken aback slightly by the landslide of information that had been thrust upon him so quickly and suddenly without any warning.
“You heard me, now are you ready to talk? Because, like I said at breakfast, I really need my best friend right now,” Harry requested, sounding a little annoyed now. He hadn’t wanted to tell Clay half of that as it was but he was willing to do just about anything to get their friendship back on track.
It took a moment of hesitation, during which Harry filled a beaker with water using the water making spell; Clayton seemed to be going over what Harry had just said, digesting it before something seemed to click in his mind. “Did you just say that Blaise attacked you?” he asked, a sudden scowl appearing on his face.
At this Harry really couldn’t help but smile, as he started to sort out the billywig stings. “Out of everything I just said, that’s what stuck?” he asked, looking up at Clayton in amusement. It was probably also the one thing that he wished hadn’t got through.
“I’m here to protect you and you just told me I failed,” Clayton said with a growl of annoyance. He was furious with himself; he just had to hope the Alpha never found out or he might not live long enough to fail again.
Harry had to take a deep calming breath; he didn’t like the insinuation that he couldn’t protect himself when he knew full well that he could, thanks to Fenrir. “It’s fine, I protected myself. I’m pretty sure he got the message,” he said rather proudly, thinking about how quickly Blaise had gone down.
Clayton was not looking hugely convinced about this, the scowl set firmly on his face at the thought that someone had hurt Harry. “If his balls are still attached to his body then he didn’t get the message,” Clay growled in anger.
Harry gave his attention to the potion that they were supposed to be brewing, adding the water to the cauldron and setting the fire under it to the right temperature. It was the only way that he managed not to give Clayton a clip round the ear, which was getting harder to resist. However, the mental imagine was a pleasant one to dwell on at least. “You want to protect me, fine but try being around me, that might be a start,” Harry pointed out as he measured out the armadillo bile.
“I was pissed at you,” Clayton said with annoyance, though the edge to his tone was fading now as the two of them got on with the assigned work. Harry was working from memory without second thought, but Clayton had to keep referring to the textbook to make sure that he got everything right.
“Care to tell me why?” Harry asked as he counted the billywig stings into a mortar; picking up the pestle and starting to crush them into the fine powder that would be required.
Clayton hesitated, not really wanting to admit this bit but realising that he really had very little choice. “Does it sound really stupid if I tell you that I can’t really remember,” he asked quietly, as he went to prod the cauldron with his wand, only to have his hand swatted away by Harry, who handed him the bottle of leech juice to start measuring out.
“Yes, but then I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if you weren’t a complete twat most of the time. If you do ever remember what I did wrong, try talking to me about it rather than sulking for a week,” Harry said with a pointed look to his friend.
“It was three days, Harry,” Clayton corrected with a roll of his eyes; sometimes his best friend really did have a flare for the dramatic. He crouched down a little as he poured out the leech juice, watching carefully to make sure it was at the right line; Harry would be unimpressed if he messed up their potion.
“Who can tell, you’re always in a sulk about something,” Harry said teasingly as he stirred the potion clockwise twelve times. Once that was done he started to add the armadillo bile steadily, watching to make sure that the texture changed as expected, and that it darkened to a slightly greyish-green.
“Says the guy who has his own tree for sulking back at the territory,” Clayton added with a smile. It felt wonderful to be teasing and joking with each other again, smiling and being friends.
Harry accepted the beaker of leech juice from his friend with a smile, subtly checking that the measurement was correct. “Okay, good point,” he said in amusement. He liked his tree, it was oddly comforting and a great place to sit and think, though he was sure that Fenrir wouldn’t agree, though that was probably what made it so appealing to him in the first place.
“Your Dad’s really alive?” Clayton asked as more of what Harry had said began sinking in as he focused on what Harry was doing with the potion in front of him. He was desperate not to muck it up for them, not when Harry was doing such a wonderful job of it.
“Apparently, Dumbledore inadvertently told Draco as much,” Harry explained, thinking that after the onslaught of information it was for the best to allow Clayton to process it all and let him ask the questions he needed to as they came to him.
“Wow,” Clayton said, taking this in for a moment. He had known Severus, liked him even. The man had saved their asses on more occasions than he could count when he and Harry had been teenagers together. He had grieved for him when he had found out that he was dead but to now find out that he was alive… it was a shock to say the least. The Auror, mad-eye something had said that he was dead; they had had no reason to think that he might have been lying.
“I know,” Harry said, not really knowing what else he could say to that and so set the potion to stir automatically so he could start adding the billywig stings.
“What are we going to do?” Clay asked and Harry couldn’t help but turn from the cauldron to grin at his best friend. “What?” the older of the two werewolves queried, unsure why Harry looked quite so happy at what he had said.
“We. You said we,” Harry explained, grinning from ear to ear, as he absent-mindedly started the slow process of adding the powdered billywig stings; he had done this many times before under the stern piercing gaze of his father and so it was easy for him to focus on Clayton while he did it.
“Well I am hardly going to let you go rushing off to try and save him by yourself,” Clayton pointed out. “You’d probably just get yourself killed and then the Alpha would get all pissy with me,” he added with an exaggerated put-upon sigh; in truth he loved protecting Harry, because he loved Harry, but that didn’t mean he was going to clue his best friend into that.
“I was actually thinking about coming up with some kind of plan before we do the rushing off bit,” Harry teased, still casually adding the billywig stings each time the potion started to get a blue tinge to it.
“Slytherins,” Clayton said shaking his head with mock exasperation; sharing a grin with his best friend. He really had missed the easy banter between them, but he was still rather stunned to have learned that that Severus was alive; very glad, but stunned.
Harry focused on the potion again for a few minutes; he was aware of Clayton watching him but it was comfortingly easy and familiar to him. “Dumbledore summoned me to his office for lunch,” he told his friend as he added the last of the billywig stings and increased the temperature of the flame.
He tapped his wand on the edge of the cauldron mumbling an easy spell that darkened the potion. Now they just had to wait, and so Harry cast the simple alert charm that would make a bing noise; he couldn’t even begin to count to number of times he had seen his father use it.
“Are you going?” Clayton asked curiously, already having a suspicion as to what Harry’s answer would be, but wanting to hear it for himself; personally he wasn’t sure he would have been able to resist the chance to confront the headmaster, but Harry would probably want to play the long game.
Harry turned and gave him an incredulous look. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I didn’t think so,” Clayton said with amusement. It actually made him feel a little better that he could still understand what his friend would be thinking; maybe things weren’t quite so different after all. “So what are you going to do?” he queried, wondering if Harry had started planning yet.
“I don’t know yet, I need to think about this,” Harry explained. This was his father’s life they were talking about and there was no way he was going to gamble with that. Their plan would have to be the best it could possibly be. “Whatever Dumbledore has planned it isn’t going to be good but I need to play his game for a while, see if I can figure out what he wants from me, why he wanted me at this school.”
Clayton nodded his agreement. He was still relieved that Harry had opted to talk to him about this; honestly he was half surprised that he hadn’t started to plan something without him. He vaguely wondered how much Harry had told Romy, but that just made him think of someone who could potentially be much more of an issue. “Are you going to tell the Alpha?” he asked hesitantly.
“Are you kidding?” Harry asked, looking at his friend as though he had completely lost his mind. “Not a chance!” he declared firmly. He was sure that Clayton wouldn’t like the secrets but this was not something he would be talked out of; he had his reasons and this was just how it had to be, even if he didn’t like lying to his mate.
“You know he won’t like that you kept it from him,” Clayton pointed out unnecessarily. Harry hadn’t needed the reminder, but wasn’t surprised to hear it either; it was very true after all, though perhaps an understatement; Harry suspected Fenrir might be very angry that he kept something this huge from him.
“I know but if I tell him…” Harry paused, trying to figure out how to explain what the consequences of such a confession would almost certainly be. “...Then we wouldn’t be here anymore; he’d take us all back to the territory and my Dad… I can’t leave him with Dumbledore, suffering,” he told his friend with determination in his every word. “I just can’t,” he reiterated.
“I know, I understand,” Clay told him, reaching out and giving Harry’s arm a squeeze. He actually wanted to pull his best friend into a hug, but even with the privacy spell up they would still in the full view of the whole class, and so he decided to save that for later. “If that was my Dad… I get it.”
“Thank you,” Harry said with a smile, definitely relieved that Clayton wasn’t going to push the issue about Fenrir. “Now, we just have to get you talking to Romy,” he went on. He was keen to change the subject and distract Clayton before his friend remembered about what Blaise had done and decided he did need revenge for Harry’s sake after all.
Clayton looked decidedly nervous at the prospect. He felt terrible for how he had treated her over the last day or so but her words had really hurt him and he hadn’t felt ready to face her. “Did she mean what she said about me following her around like a love sick puppy?” he asked.
“I can’t answer that for you, Clay,” Harry pointed out; he had a fair idea but he meant it when he said he wanted his best friend to actually talk to Romy. “But I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” he went on. “She doesn’t like that Hermione is crushing on you and I know she turned down some Gryffindor that asked her out.”
“Who was it?” Clay asked, having a pretty good idea but needing it to be verified before he started removing heads and testicles, though not necessarily in that order. “I’ll kill them if they touch her against her will!”
“Down boy, I’ve been looking out for her,” Harry reassured, brushing aside the mild annoyance that he felt at Clayton not having trusted him to protect their pack sister. “Don’t worry, he didn’t get a chance to get anywhere near her, I chased him off with some rather snappy books,” he told him smugly.
“Are you going to tell me who?” Clayton questioned somewhat impatiently.
“Nope, because I can’t exactly have my protector and best friend expelled for decapitating or castrating other students now, can I?” Harry pointed out, nudging his friend playfully. “I need you here; you need to cheer me on in the Slytherin versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match that’s coming up.”
“I forgot about that,” Clayton admitted, giving his friend an apologetic smile.
“I didn’t,” Harry said. He was actually a little nervous about the match given that he hadn’t played properly like this before; he felt he had a lot to prove, to himself as well as the rest of the school. “I have practice this Friday; you coming to watch?”
“And be accused of spying, no thanks,” Clayton said with a laugh. “Besides I know how good you are,” he added ruefully.
“I am rather excellent aren’t I?” Harry agreed, with an amused smirk.
Clay rolled his eyes. “And so modest,” he grumbled, though it was half-hearted at best and there was affection in his voice.
Harry laughed, as he dropped the privacy spell that was around them. Things between the two of them seemed stable enough that he didn’t feel the need to hide their conversation any more. “So you’ll come and sit with us at lunch?” he asked hopefully.
“Sure,” he agreed without hesitation. “Though I kind of liked the Weasley twins, they’re cool, you’ll like them,” Clayton informed him, smiling as he thought of the kind of pranks he thought the four of them could pull if they worked together.
“Weasley, as in Ron…?” Harry asked with a frown.
“Yeah, they’re his brothers,” Clay explained, “they just missed out on the arsehole trait.” It was kind of hard to think of the two Weasley's as being related to Ron when their attitude to him was such a contrast, even if their red hair did kind of give them away.
“Well, bring them along,” Harry suggested, wanting to get to know what seemed to be the few people in Gryffindor who hadn’t been treating Clay so terribly. “The others won’t mind; and even if they do, fuck them,” he said decisively.
“I’d rather not…” Clay joked, as Harry’s wording brought some less welcome mental images to mind.
“Oh yeah,” Harry said with a chuckle. “I forgot there is only one person you’d like to…” he said in a whisper as he leaned closer to his friend.
“Finish that sentence and you’re getting armadillo bile up your nose,” Clayton interrupted, taking the half full bottle in hand and waving it threateningly at his best friend. It didn’t even cross his mind that he might not be doing this.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Harry said, but he took a quick step back just in case. His eyes darted around the rest of the class, most of them still working on their potion, most of them half exasperated with their partners and not paying attention to what was going on around them.
“Try me,” Clayton said with a sly grin. Harry should have known never to dare him to anything. It was a point of pride with Clayton that he had no shame when it came to dares and bets on whether or not he would do something. Putting armadillo bile up his best friend’s nose was something he was going to rather enjoy doing if it came to that; even if it did mean a detention, it would be worth it.
Harry gave a nervous laugh and took another step away. “On second thoughts…” he amended, knowing that his best friend was definitely not above such a thing. As they were at the back of the class, Harry was almost backed up against the wall now, with nowhere to go but out the door, which he knew Slughorn might frown upon.
“Ha, exactly,” Clayton told him. “I was put in Gryffindor for a reason.”
“And it wasn’t your talent at potion making,” Harry teased. The familiar bing noise let him know that the potion was ready for the next stage and he made a decision. “You should start adding the leech juice now,” he told his best friend as he held out the beaker for Clayton to take; he even pretended not to see the moment of panic that flickered across his face.
“Just all in one go?” Clayton asked, hesitantly accepting the ingredient from his friend, and peering into their cauldron. He was nervous because after all of Harry’s hard work he didn’t want to ruin their potion and therefore their grade for the class. He had never had the patience for potions before and that fact hadn’t changed since coming here.
“Yep,” Harry told him confidently. He trusted Clayton, and he was sure his best friend would see this as a practical demonstration of that; he felt a little as though both of them needed the proof of that.
Clay still looked very unsure about this; he knew full well how important potions were to Harry and he didn’t want to ruin his efforts. “You’re certain this won’t blow up or ruin the potion?” he questioned, wanting to be certain that there wasn’t some special way he was supposed to do this; potions was definitely not his strong suit after all.
“Yep, not even you could mess this bit up, Clayton,” Harry said, but the wide playful smile of his face took the sting from the words.
“Thanks for that,” Clayton retorted sarcastically, as he picked up the leech juice and poured it in, as Harry stirred; the pair of them watched on as the potion thickened slightly and turned a bluish-purple colour that the book had said to expect. “Wicked,” Clay declared, and Harry nodded in agreement.
“A couple more minutes and we’re done,” Harry said happily, looking around at his fellow classmates. Draco was having particular difficulty with Ron, who was adding what seemed to be nettles, which the potion didn’t even call for. Draco was going rather red in the face as he tried to salvage their potion, though he looked ready to tip the entire contents of the cauldron over Ron’s head.
Hermione’s hair had gone bushier than ever, her cheeks seemed to be stained a rather luminous orange colour, which had evidently been caused by the steam currently erupting from the cauldron that she and Crabbe were using. Vincent Crabbe was currently holding up two bottles, one of leech juice and the other of rattlesnake venom, looking entirely confused between the two.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh, feeling rather proud that not only had he and Clay brewed the perfect potion but they had done it in half the time that the others had managed. Slughorn, noticing that the two boys were no long working strolled over, his large belly protruding out in front of him as he made a beeline for their table.
“What do you think…?” the Professor began.
“We’ve finished,” Harry said, cutting of the potions teacher with a smug smile. “You can check it if you don’t believe me,” he added.
Looking a little dubious, Slughorn peered into the potion, raising an impressed eyebrow when he saw that it was the right colour and consistency. “Parkinson,” the Professor called out. “Come here.”
The girl nervously put down what she was doing; her potion was beyond salvageable thanks to Lavender Brown adding far too much armadillo bile and then way overdoing the beetle wings to counteract it.
“Yes, Sir?” she asked nervously, looking between Harry, Clay and Slughorn with apprehension.
“Test this for me,” he said, removing a spoon from his jacket and taking some of the bluish-purple potion from the lightly simmering cauldron. Pansy’s eyes went wide with horror.
“But, Sir…” she tried to protest.
“What’s wrong Parkinson,” Clay jeered, “don’t you trust us?”
“Not in the slightest,” she said through narrowed eyes.
“Come now Miss Parkinson, we don’t have all day,” Slughorn said rather impatiently.
Accepting the spoon, Pansy drank the potion down in one go. The entire class seemed to be watching with bated breath to see what would happen. Half of them were expecting Pansy to erupt with oozing orange pustules all over her face, most of the others hoping that she would, and almost all of them shocked when she opened her mouth and she began babbling nonsense, more so than usual.
A smug smile spread across Harry’s face. “That’ll teach them to doubt me, right,” he said, nudging Clayton, who nodded in agreement. Clay had long since learned that it wasn’t wise to underestimate Harry and soon the rest of the school would start to see that too.
FGHP
It felt far longer than a week since he had been in anticipation of Harry’s arrival at Hogwarts and yet very little seemed to be going to plan. As much as the boy’s sorting was a disappointment, there was no doubting that the hat had placed Harry in the correct house; he was clearly a Slytherin through and through. Apparently Severus Snape had had more of an effect on the boy than he had originally thought.
The fact that he seemed rude and unable to do as he was told was another reason to dislike Snape and his poor attempt at raising the clearly uncouth teenager. Harry had no respect for authority figures that was for sure and neither did his fellow pack members.
When he had sent Minerva to request the boy’s company for lunch he hadn’t expected for his invitation to be rejected; and then to be told so rudely, well that was just unacceptable. After all, the boy had a mission to complete, a job to do and they didn’t have time for Harry’s selfish attitude.
At least Draco was doing as instructed; the blond boy had seemingly become friends with not only Harry, but the two other young werewolves as well, despite them both being in other houses. Their separation was at least one thing that he could approve of. The girl’s parents suddenly coming out of nowhere had successfully proved to be somewhat of a distraction, but the trouble was it seemed to be distracting Harry as well; he had underestimated the bond that Harry would share with his fellow pack members.
It seemed that he was going to have to adjust his game plan a little. If Harry was going to be difficult then so was he. He was going to get what he wanted from the teenager no matter what it cost. After all, he had something that Harry would want back, the man who had raised him.
Nothing could stop him, not since he had taken the cloak of invisibility from Remus. As the master of death, nothing and no one was going to touch him now. Though Lupin had suggested giving the cloak to Harry, Albus wasn’t going to let that happen.
He had to consider how he was going to get round that, seeing as Remus had been rather insistent but he would find a way. It would probably be easiest to simply purchase a normal invisibility cloak; it wasn’t as though either Harry or Remus would be able to tell the difference. It might even help Harry along the way; it wouldn’t do for the boy to die too early after all.
FGHP
Romy was stood in the entrance hall alone. She had taken the time to change out of her uniform, putting on the far more comfortable jeans, hoody and trainers. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail to show that she meant business before rather forcefully telling Harry and Clayton that this was something that she had to do herself.
Clay had made an attempt at talking to her over dinner and she had accepted the effort but she hadn’t been able to take in much that he was saying. In the end she had given him a kiss to the cheek and promised that they would talk in more detail when anxious worry wasn’t eating away at her insides about the coming evening.
Neither Harry nor Clay were too impressed with allowing Romy to meet her parents alone; the only reason that they had allowed her to was that she had put her foot down on the matter, told them that they were muggles and that they couldn’t do anything to her. The two teenage boys knew what was good for them and had very quickly ceased arguing with her.
Dumbledore had arranged for Roy to meet them in the Entrance Hall; Jennifer and Adam were walking up from Hogsmeade and they were to be allowed to remain in the Great Hall, where they could talk privately. What they had to talk about, she didn’t know; she couldn’t exactly tell them anything about her life now, it wasn’t that she didn’t want them to know who she was, it was more that she didn’t want them to know what she was.
Shifting nervously from foot to foot, Romy waited for them to turn up. She just had to hope that they were going to honour their end of the agreement and leave Jake behind. Her parents she could handle but not her brother; she wouldn’t have anything to do with him.
“Hi,” Romy said awkwardly as Jennifer and Adam stepped into the Entrance Hall, looking particularly like they didn’t belong. Jennifer was clutching at her handbag, looking around her, absolutely terrified. Adam was tense, very on edge as if he was trying to pretend that he wasn’t somewhere he highly disapproved of.
“Still wearing those awful jumpers I see,” Jennifer said with a frown.
Romy looked at her, scowling a little. “Yes, I am, and if you’re just going to insult my clothing choices then perhaps this is a waste of time.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Adam said somewhat harshly. “We made the time to see you and you’ll respect that.”
“And what are you going to do if I just walk away?” Romy challenged.
“That is enough, Rosemary,” Jennifer said firmly.
“Don’t call me that,” Romy snarled through clenched teeth, glaring at the woman who had birthed her. Even in her own mind she refused to refer to Jennifer as anything else; she was certainly no mother.
“We’re all going to stay and have a nice chat; and perhaps some tea if we can manage it,” Jennifer said, completely disregarding the hostile snarl from her daughter.
“In here,” Romy said with a huff, motioning toward the Great Hall before leading the way. She shoved her hands in her pockets as she walked, trying to rein in her temper before she did or said something she would regret later.
Teacups and saucers had already been laid out for them at the Ravenclaw table and this is where Romy headed, assuming, quite rightly, that her parents would follow her lead. She could feel their stern and disapproving gazes following her as she walked.
Unceremoniously she dumped herself on to the bench and began pouring tea into the cups as Adam and Jennifer sat down too. They both seemed rather taken aback by the numerous floating candles scattered around the Great Hall but neither mentioned them and Romy didn’t feel like enlightening them about what she knew about the school or its traditions.
Small talk, in fact, was rather far from her mind. They sat in silence for a few moments, Romy sipping at her tea, thinking how it really didn’t compare to anything Lukas had ever given her, making her smile fondly as she thought of her home and her real family.
“So,” Jennifer began. “Tell us, what is your life like, sweetheart?”
Romy had to remind herself that she had to at least try to be civilised to these people, she had already told them that she didn’t appreciate the use of the endearment ‘sweetheart’ nor the use of her full name, which she despised, though apparently they couldn’t even be considerate enough to respect her wishes on that front. She didn’t see this going well or lasting very long at all when they couldn’t even listen to about something as simple as what they called her.
“It’s good,” Romy told them. “I live with a lot of lovely people who I care about, we’re a family and they make me very happy.” She kept it vague; she didn’t have a choice, she had to. There wasn’t much she could tell them about the pack and the territory that wouldn’t absolutely horrify them.
“You’re not a real family though, you can’t be you’ve only been gone a year or so maybe two…” Adam said dismissively.
“It’s been almost three years,” Romy snapped, interrupting her father. She was completely taken aback that they didn’t even know how long it had been; she had been beaten, raped, tormented, almost died and then lived in the middle of the woods and yet she had kept track.
His eyes narrowed at his only daughter accusingly. “And clearly they didn’t teach you any manners,” he said in disgust that his own child would speak back to him in such a way.
“They saved my life,” Romy said, glaring right back at her father. “They gave me something that you failed to,” she told them, “respect and love. They made me feel as if I belonged with them when they didn’t have to.” She wouldn’t listen to either of them speaking poorly of her Mum and Dad; Callie and Jenson had been nothing short of incredible parents to her from the day they each met her.
“We love you,” Jennifer said, looking at Romy as if she couldn’t understand where her little girl had gone, wondering who this young woman standing before her was. “You belong with us,” she added, sounding as if she genuinely believed it.
“You didn’t even know how long I’d been missing for,” Romy said bitterly. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes and she hated it. She didn’t want to cry in front of these people; she didn’t want to show them any form of weakness.
“Oh, what does it matter how long you were gone!?” Adam snapped. “All this pussy footing around, you should have just come home with us the first night we got here.” He hated being in this place and it had been more than a little odious having to stay in a wizarding village for more than a week while their daughter plucked up enough courage to even face them.
“It matters to me,” Romy said as her eyes began to water. “Everything I suffered through…”
“More fabricated lies and half truths no doubt, always seeking attention,” Adam interrupted dismissively. He still felt anger at his daughter for the things she had insinuated about Jake; there was no way his son would be part of any such despicable behaviour. “Oh and here come the waterworks.”
The tears that had been threatening to fall had begun to trail down her cheeks. Romy swiped them away angrily, hating that these people were her parents, wanting them to understand, to accept her, to love her, but hating them at the same time. She wished that she hadn’t sent Harry and Clayton away; she needed the two of them now more than ever.
“Is that how you feel too, Jennifer?” Romy asked, glaring at her mother now, trying to keep her voice strong but it wavered dangerously. She had killed a man, taken his life to save her own, and yet she was still reduced to tears by her biological father. She had never felt so pathetic in her entire life.
“I don’t think I want to discuss that, Rosemary,” Jennifer said primly. She privately agreed with her husband on the issue and thought that it was rather childish how their daughter was still insisting on telling such tall tales; but she at least understood how close they were to losing Romy permanently. “You already know my feelings on the matter,” she said rather diplomatically. Romy gave a short laugh of disbelief, shaking her head.
“Well I don’t want to discuss anything with you right now,” Romy said hatefully, “but I’m still here even though you can’t even get my fucking name right!”
“Such language!” Jennifer said with a gasp of shock at what Romy had said. She would have never allowed either of her children to utter such crude words in her home and despaired at the kind of parents that Romy must have been stuck with these few years.
“How dare you speak to your mother in such a way?” Adam snarled.
“She isn’t my mother. Now, excuse me, this was very clearly a mistake and if I have to stay here and listen to either of you any more I’m going to end up smashing this tea pot over your head,” she said with a falsely sweet smile before adding, “goodnight,” rather politely.
Getting to her feet, leaving her parents gaping after her in shock, she headed for the exit, taking deep breaths as she made her escape. She was trying to stay strong and refusing to have a complete breakdown until she was in the arms of her pack brothers and she was safe.
FGHP
Harry and Clay had been occupying themselves with the pool table in the Slytherin common room as they waited for Romy. They may have been banned from going with her to show moral support but they would both be here for her when she came back if she needed them and they were sure that she would.
Harry was, of course, winning the game; though, this evening they were not playing for money. Both of them were a little distracted, wondering when their pack sister was going to get back.
The second that Romy walked into the Slytherin common room Harry and Clayton both dropped their cues. Draco who had been sat in an armchair reading at the time, looked up at the noise just in time to see Harry and Clay surround their pack sister, enveloping her in their arms and just holding her as she broke down in tears.
“Bedroom, now,” Harry said quietly to Clay, who nodded to show that he understood. Harry gave Draco a look and the blond nodded as Clayton scooped the still crying Romy up into his arms. The three of them heading for the fifth year boy’s dormitory together. Draco felt a little jealous that he wasn't to be included in their comforting session and he hoped that Romy was alright. He really didn't like to see her upset and that bothered him more than he thought it ought to.
“Three of them in that one little bed, seriously?” Harry heard Daphne ask; he snorted in amusement but didn’t hang around long enough to hear Draco’s response to her. They had more important things to worry about right now than what other people thought about them.
“Tell us what happened,” Clayton requested softly as he lay her down upon Harry’s bed where she curled up into a little ball, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
“Romy…” Harry said; his voice a whisper.
“I can’t…” she replied. She spoke so delicately that if the two teenage boys hadn’t had advanced werewolf hearing then they wouldn’t have heard her at all. “Just… can we just sleep... the three of us? Please.”
“Whatever you need,” Harry agreed, climbing onto the bed in front of her and snuggling into her, pulling the Alpha blanket up to cover them. Clayton joined them, curling himself around her from behind so that she was surrounded, his nose buried in her curls, inhaling her comforting scent.
They were all still fully dressed as Harry positioned the Alpha blanket over the three of them, it was only just big enough but it still smelt like home, which was a nice comfort to have. Reaching over to the bedside table Harry grabbed for Baloo bear, yanking him from his usual spot and handing him to Romy.
She smiled gratefully and accepted the bear, which also had lingering scents of the territory, the Alpha and reminded them all so much of home. None of them spoke; they simply lay together silently, until the three of them fell asleep.
When Draco came to bed an hour later, he found the three of them snuggled together and smiled; he was glad to have been the one to find them rather than any of the others that they shared with. He drew the curtains around the four poster bed, giving them their privacy, though not before taking a lingering look over Romy. He could hardly get over how beautiful she was. She was unlike any girl he had ever known and this was perhaps why he found himself liking her so much.

Hope you enjoyed the new chapter. We would love to hear your thoughts, so do leave us a review.
Jan - Indeed, maybe next time ;)

delia cerrano - Clay has a lot of insecurities and is a lot more complex than most people realise. He has a lot of issues that he needs to work through, more than he even has realised himself. Yes, Harry knows about Severus, but he doesn't really know what to do with that knowledge. It is going to be a long road. :)
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Fragmented Soul