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Fragmented Soul	By : StrawberryGirl87 & Bickymonster Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Fenrir Views: 79703 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 10
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Chapter List
- 45
- 46
- 47
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Fragmented Soul
Chapter 46 - Diplomatic Discussions
Tuesday morning saw Clayton running very late for his first class, History of Magic. Harry had gone ahead with Draco and a few of the others but Clay had had to double back, when he realised he had forgotten his textbook. He had debated just leaving it but he didn’t want to get into more trouble than he already had. So, to make it to the class on time, he had grabbed his skateboard to speed up the process.
The wheels bumped loudly across the flagstone floor, making more noise than Clay was happy with as he knew that it would be drawing attention to him and what he was doing. He just didn’t have the time to stop and modify the skateboard with a silencing charm or else he was going to be even later than he already was.
He dodged around Cedric, who called after him, probably wanting to ask about Harry, but Clay was so not going to get involved in that little mess even if he wasn’t running late. He dreaded to think what the Alpha would have to say about that particular friendship. He waved a quick apology to the head boy, but that distracted him for just a moment too long.
The next thing he knew was that his skateboard seemed to have just suddenly stopped moving, sending him falling to the floor and making him very grateful for the helmet that Harry had given him for Christmas, which he was currently wearing.
“This is not acceptable behaviour, Mr Danes,” Umbridge’s annoyingly high pitched voice squeaked out.
Slowly Clay looked up from the heap where he had landed on the floor to see the pink toad-like woman standing over him, her arms crossed over her chest and an annoyed expression on her face. Of course, her two permanent shadows, the Carrow siblings, were just behind her, which never boded well for any Hogwarts student.
“Just didn’t want to be late,” Clay said belligerently, getting to his feet, straightening his helmet and picking up his skateboard, tucking it under his arm.
“Then you should have ensured to leave plenty of time to reach your classroom in an appropriate manner,” she told him primly.
“Oh piss off, it’s hardly my fault I forgot my book,” Clay said with a roll of his eyes. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“That is unacceptable language, Mr Danes, combined with your unacceptable behaviour I believe this warrants a detention with me tonight,” Umbridge said, her anger rising. “And for goodness sake remove that insufferable hat!” she blurted out, clearly unable to hold the thought in a second longer.
“You, lady, can go jump off a cliff; I’m not having detention with you, two minutes in a confined space with you and your perfume is going to make me heave, no thanks,” Clay said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“Detention is not optional, Mr Danes,” she told him in a sharp tone that one might use with a disobedient five year old, obviously not at all used to being spoken back to, let alone in the manner than Clay had done.
“It is for me,” Clay returned, glaring at the toad like woman. “Now, excuse me, I’m late for History of Magic,” he told her, turning on his heel to storm away.
“Accio skateboard,” he heard Umbridge say and before he could react his beloved skateboard had flown from his grasp and was being held by the female Carrow sibling.
“That’s mine,” Clayton growled, furious that they had taken his skateboard, which had been a gift from Harry and therefore highly treasured.
“You’ll get it back in your detention this evening,” Umbridge said in her sickly sweet tone. “My office, tonight, after dinner,” she told him.
Had it just been the awful Umbridge woman then Clayton would have just taken measures to get the skateboard back himself right away, but she had her backup at her shoulders and he knew that, even as a werewolf, he didn’t stand a chance against all three of them. So it was with a resigned huff of annoyance that he turned and stormed away towards the class he was now most definitely going to be late for.
Thankfully Binns was about as oblivious as they came, and so he was able to sneak in and take a seat in the empty chair next to Harry without getting into any more trouble. He was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to hold his temper back if Umbridge’s meddling had earned him a detention for being late to class as well.
“What happened to you?” Harry asked in a whisper. “I thought you were just grabbing your book. And what’s with the helmet?”
“I thought I would skateboard here and make up time so I wouldn’t be late,” Clayton explained in a hushed voice as he slouched in his chair and prepared to completely ignore whatever it was the ghostly professor was rambling about. “Would have been fine if that Umbridge cow hadn’t tipped me of my board, given me detention and then stolen it.”
“She took your skateboard?” Harry asked, clearly believing that this was an almost unthinkable crime. Not least because it was the board that he had gifted to Clayton; he certainly wasn’t going to let her keep it from his friend. “We’ll get it back,” he told him with determination.
“She said I could have it back if I went to the detention tonight,” Clayton said sounding rather bitter about this fact. He had resigned himself to the fact that he would have to go if he wanted to get his skateboard back from the odious woman.
“Well I guess the easiest way to get it back is to probably go to that,” Harry admitted grudgingly. “At least she isn’t actually going to try and keep it from you permanently, because that would mean war,” he added with a smirk.
“She’s just a teacher, what’s the worst she could do?” Clayton asked with a shrug. “I’ll go to the stupid detention but I’ll be damned if she’ll get the better of me.”
“That’s the spirit,” Harry said with a chuckle as he patted Clay on the shoulder, settling down to at least try to be interested in what Binns was telling them about the significance of the goblin wars.
FGHP
Harry was glad to get back to the Slytherin common room after dinner. Cedric had been trying to get his attention in the Great Hall but he had no idea what to say to the head boy at the moment. Between it becoming clear that perhaps Cedric did have less platonic feelings for him and the explanation he had promised to give him, Harry was definitely keen to put off their next conversation for a little while and so had simply left in hurry as soon as he had finished eating.
Romy was with him, but Clayton had headed off to his detention in a fairly terrible mood; Harry might have felt sorry for Umbridge if she didn’t completely deserve all that Clay could throw at her. He did hope that his friend could at least hold his tongue enough that she would still actually give him his skateboard back though. However, considering the fact that Clayton knew this and actually wanted the skateboard back, Harry was confident that his friend would be able to remain civil long enough, no matter what she did.
In the meantime, he and Romy were rather enjoying the quiet that Clayton being absent allowed them and were relaxing in the Slytherin common room, sprawled out across a couple leather sofas, each of them rather lost in a book they were reading.
“Harry,” Draco asked, “may I have a word, in private?” He had been trying to find the nerve to speak to the boy alone all day and he had finally decided that now was the right time. It was always easier to separate Harry from just Romy rather than Clayton, who was rather protective; Draco had decided that it was now or never.
Harry looked up from his book, a seemingly puzzled expression on his face. “Um, sure,” he replied, getting to his feet.
Romy looked up from what she was reading too, suddenly a little worried about what Draco could want to discuss away from her. She was momentarily worried that it might have something to do with the flirting that he had been doing with her, but she mentally shook herself and told herself that she was being silly; there were bigger things going on than just Draco flirting with her. He was almost certainly just teasing her anyway.
As Draco and Harry headed off towards the dormitory, the blond looked over his shoulder at her and gave her a smile, and a wink. Yep, she decided, he was definitely trying to mess with her head, and succeeding too.
FGHP
Draco shut and warded the door behind them as Harry took a seat on the edge of his bed. He was aware of that the young werewolf was watching him curiously as he took a seat on his own bed, facing towards Harry.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Harry asked, realising that Draco was quite uncharacteristically nervous.
“There’s something that I want to tell you, things I think that you should know about me,” Draco said, and it was the serious way he spoke that made Harry sit up and really listen.
“Okay,” he said slowly, feeling slightly apprehensive about whatever it was that Draco was about to reveal to him; surely things were difficult enough as they were without another complication thrown in the works. Though, it occurred to Harry, maybe that was why Draco was obviously a little hesitant.
“Firstly,” Draco said, “this all happened after we first met, that day in Hogsmeade.” He didn’t want Harry getting the wrong idea so intended to be very clear about it all. “I always intended us to get to know each other, and I was hopeful we would become friends. I want to be clear that my motivations have never wavered.”
“Okay, well I consider us friends,” Harry assured him, though he was frowning slightly in confusion about where Draco was going with this and not really knowing what he meant when he talked about his motivations.
“I do as well,” Draco said, giving a stiff nod with a slightly forced smile on his face. “And that has not been influenced by what I am about to tell you.”
“How about you just tell me and we go from there,” Harry suggested; this dodging around the issue was making him nervous.
“Dumbledore wanted me to make friends with you so that I could report back to him about you,” Draco said quickly, as though it might be less painful for Harry to hear that way.
“You're spying on me?!” Harry demanded to know, staring at Draco in surprised horror.
“No, no, no,” Draco said quickly, frustrated that Harry hadn’t understood. “He asked me to do this after I met you, remember; after I had already decided that we should be friends. Not to mention he hasn’t even asked me anything about you yet, and when he does we can work out together what you want him to know.”
Harry scowled, not really sure what to make of this whole revelation.
“I am not your friend because Dumbledore told me to be,” Draco said, trying hard not to be offended that Harry would think that their friendship was faked. “But there is something else, and you aren’t going to like it,” he confessed.
“Go on…” Harry said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
“The Dark Lord, he asked me to make friends with you too,” Draco said, giving Harry a half apologetic smile, when Harry simply gaped at him in shock. “Of course neither he nor Dumbledore know anything of each other’s requests, and neither is the reason why we are friends…”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Harry said with an exhausted sigh, as he ran a hand over his face and then through his hair. He really needed some time to think it all over. Not to mention that this was the first real proof that he had that Voldemort was after him, it had just been speculation before now and it was making his head spin.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Harry asked after a few moments, fixing Draco with a penetrating stare.
Draco thought hard, trying to work out how best to explain. “Just like it does to you, family means everything to me,” he told him. “I have a little brother, Brax, who isn’t even four months old yet; he is with my mother, living with my abusive deatheater of a father, in the same house as Voldemort,” Draco explained. “Why would I have any reason to lie to you about any of that?”
Harry paused, thinking things over, taking in all that Draco was telling him and realising that maybe his friend was stuck in the middle of this whole mess as much as he was. “Do you know what legilimency is?” he asked, looking Draco directly in the eye. The blond nodded, though somewhat hesitantly. “I am particularly good at it,” Harry told him, “my Dad taught me.”
“You want to look inside my head?” Draco asked in surprise, not really sure how he felt about that; he had experienced it before, and it had never been pleasant, but this was Harry and he needed him to trust him.
“I want to know that I can trust you,” Harry said, wanting Draco to understand his reasoning for asking for such a thing. “You were wearing glamours on the train ride up here and I never asked you why, you have just told me you have been asked to spy on me by two people that are against me... You have a lot of secrets, Draco” he pointed out, “and you can keep all of them; I just want to know that I can trust you.”
Draco seemed to mull this over for a while, before closing his eyes and sighing. “Then I think you should do it,” he said, “I want you to know that I am on your side.”
“I’ll be careful,” Harry said as he accepted Draco’s acceptance to allow him in his head. “It won’t hurt, I’ve been in Clay’s head and he never complained, except about the intrusion of privacy. Trust me, it isn’t a place I want to go again.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to go into Clayton’s head either,” Draco joked in an attempt to break the tense atmosphere that hung between them.
Harry gave him a wry smile, as he met Draco’s eyes and pulled out his wand. “Legilimens,” he said, pushing his way into his friend’s mind, finding that the blond didn’t resist him at all.
It took very little time at all for him to verify what Draco had told him, finding the memories of the meetings with Dumbledore and Voldemort, seeing what they had demanded of Draco and the complete lack of choice either of them had given him. He also found memories of a young baby that Harry presumed to be Brax, and of a woman that could only be Draco’s mother. He was sure he had actually flinched when he came across Draco’s recollections of what his father had done.
And in between there were other flashes of memories and thoughts. A large cluttered room, that seemed to focus on a tall wooden cabinet, a cackling dark haired witch, a desire to keep Daphne away from it all, playing footsie under the table in the library, concern for Romy, his hope that he might finally get to meet his godfather…
Harry pulled back from the spell, releasing Draco from its grip and the two boys sat there, breathing deeply, not quite sure what to say. It was Harry who was the first one to break the silence.
“So you like Romy then?” he asked, not quite certain that that was what he had felt in Draco’s mind but thinking that this would be the best way to get an honest reaction from Draco on it.
“You saw that?” Draco asked; he hadn’t meant to let Harry see that when he wasn’t even sure how he felt about her himself. He was having fun getting reactions from the young werewolf, but despite his attraction to her he didn’t know if he could get passed the lycanthropy issue. He had no problem with being around them given what they were, but actually considering a relationship with a werewolf was a whole other matter.
“Sort of,” Harry said, fixing the blond with a stern gaze. “I should warn you now that, we might be friends, but if you hurt Romy or Clayton, we are going to have problems.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Draco said honestly.
“Clayton is in love with Romy,” Harry told him, though he was sure that Clay had already made this very clear on numerous occasions since they had arrived at Hogwarts.
“I had noticed,” Draco said with slight amusement.
“It doesn't bother you?” Harry asked curiously.
“It would if she was in love with him and denying it but she doesn't seem to be,” Draco said honestly. He had been watching Romy carefully for a while and she was adamantly denying any form of romantic feelings for her cousin and so he felt pretty safe on that front.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Harry said with a frown. Romy had all but admitted to him that she liked Clay and he wasn't sure what could have happened that might have changed that. Clayton was being his usual irritating self after all and it wasn't like he had become worse when it came to showing his devotion to her.
“We will have to wait and see, but I have no intention of causing problems for either of them,” Draco told him emphatically. “My only real concern is getting my family through this war alive, and that includes you and Severus; by extension it also includes that crazy family of yours.”
“Seems like we have that in common,” Harry said with a smile. “Okay, I trust you but you don’t tell Voldemort or Dumbledore anything about me without telling me first, there are some things I don’t want either of those idiots knowing.”
“We should probably figure out what I can and can’t tell them sooner rather than later, because if I am summoned to them, I can hardly just say ‘Oh can you just wait a minute while I go and check with Harry whether he wants you to know this or not’,” Draco pointed out. “Not to mention, Voldemort might just start pulling details straight from my head whether I like it or not.”
“I can teach you some tricks to keep him out,” Harry said. “It’s really not too complicated once you learn how.”
“You shouldn’t underestimate how powerful he is,” Draco said, not sure that Harry could really teach him to keep the Dark Lord out of his mind. “But I am willing to try,” he said, giving his friend a smile.
“Okay, I am too tired to start that just now, but soon,” Harry told him.
“So we’re okay?” Draco asked, wanting to be sure.
“We’re okay,” Harry assured him.
“Talking of which, are you okay?” Draco questioned.
“Yeah, why?” Harry asked, confused about where that had come from.
“I mean, with everything that you put in that letter, about what Blaise did,” Draco said, his voice trailing off. He still had no idea how to talk about this and wasn’t even sure he wouldn’t be better off just not saying anything at all, but he was trying to work with Harry. He had made a decision to try. “You can talk to me. You know, if you wanted to, I mean.”
“Oh, right, that,” Harry said, glancing across the room at the space where Blaise’s bed had once been. The room looked a little odd without it there, and Harry had half wished it had been left so that he could have incinerated it or something.
“What are you two up to in here?” Daphne asked, opening the door and sticking her head in. She wasn’t so sure she wanted Harry and Draco getting any closer than they already were and, when Romy had informed her that they had come into the dormitory to chat, she had hastily made her way in to see what they were scheming now.
“We're making out, kindly leave us alone so we can have hot, gay sex,” Harry said teasingly, shooting her a wicked smile in the process.
“Just talking,” Draco informed her, quickly turning to smile at the pretty blond girl, who was now giving Harry a rather pointed look. “We’ll be out in a bit; you need help with your homework?” he asked her.
“No, I’ve got it covered, just wondering what the two of you were being so secretive about,” she said, giving Draco a grateful smile, before disappearing off again, wanting to avoid the conversation becoming any more awkward; though, not before sending another harsh glare to Harry.
“I don’t know about Romy but Daphne certainly has a thing for you,” Harry said with amusement once Daphne was gone.
“Seriously?” Draco asked with disbelief, glancing over his shoulder at the door the girl had just left through. “I’m not so sure.”
FGHP
Umbridge watched on with rather malicious glee, though no small amount of frustration, as Clayton Danes continued to write lines, magically carving them into the back of his own hand as he went. Her frustration was purely down to the fact that the arrogant brat was doing so in complete silence, without even a single indication of the pain he must be feeling.
Of course, she had a certain admiration for the resilience the boy was showing but she would have definitely preferred that it was not being used in contradiction to what she was hoping to achieve. She simply would never allow this little… beast, this werewolf, to get the better of her and so each time that Clayton looked up from his parchment, she fixed him with a beaming smile.
What frustrated her all the more was that whenever she smiled at him, he would smile right back and it made her blood boil when he gave her a saucy wink as well. The boy really was vile. She held only contempt for the whole species of creature that this boy belonged to, the lot of them needed to be exterminated in her mind, but this was the best she could do given the circumstances.
However, times were changing; she knew many opposed to ideals of the Dark Lord but there were definitely more than a few aspects that she thought would bring about most welcome change. At least they would no longer have these creatures infiltrating their education system and endangering innocent witches and wizards.
It was the Potter brat that bothered her the most; the so called saviour of the wizarding world was nothing more than a half breed mongrel and she held no delusions about where he should end up. Whatever Dumbledore had planned for the boy, it was unlikely that he would succeed, though she was curious to know his plan. So far, however, she had been unable to catch the Potter boy doing something that warranted detention so that she could question him. The half breed abomination sitting in front of her would have to do.
“Why did you and your friends come to this school, Mr Danes?” Umbridge asked, surveying the teenage boy before her with interest, raising her delicate flowery tea cup to her lips and sipping at her tea.
“It wasn’t through choice,” Clayton growled as he finished the tenth line of ‘I will behave appropriately’. He hating this, being stuck in this pink, kitten focused room that even smelt pink. There was no other way to describe it; before today he hadn’t ever associated smells with colours and probably never would again but this office smelt pink and it disgusted him.
“Dumbledore summoned you here then,” Umbridge said, trying to keep the level of interest she had at this fact out of her voice.
“Look toady, I’m not your information source, go hump someone else’s leg for information on Harry,” Clayton snarled, catching on pretty quickly to what was going on. “I’ll sit here and do my lines but do me a favour and don’t talk to me; it’s taking all my concentration not to vomit all over your pretty pink kittens right now.”
“I can see that those lines have yet to teach you anything, Mr Danes,” she said in a pinched tone. “I think we shall add another fifteen to the total then, see if it helps you to remember your manners.”
“Whatever; doesn’t bother me,” Clayton grumbled unhappily, turning back to the parchment that already had a dozen lines etched into it with his blood.
Umbridge continued to watch the teenage werewolf closely. She had wanted to find out more about what had happened to cause the three werewolves to spend a week outside of the school. Whatever it was, it seemed to have also resulted in Blaise Zabini being expelled. Dumbledore, however, was playing those cards rather close to his chest, much to her frustration.
Blaise’s mother had written to her, demanding to know what had happened, but, as it was, Umbridge could only apologise and assure her that she would write a letter of recommendation to Durmstrang; at least then he should be able to continue his magical education. It had not been the answer that Mrs Zabini had been looking for but she had been happy that her son would be able to graduate from somewhere.
It seemed that questioning Clayton Danes wasn’t going to benefit her today; he was stubborn, that was for sure, and it was going to take more than the blood quill to break him. It was clear that she was going to have to come up with more ingenious ways to get the information she wanted.
Dolores was sure that she had read somewhere that there were spells designed to hurt werewolves; the creatures were an all too common problem in the United Kingdom, a problem that really needed to be eradicated but that would take time. Until the time when she could ensure that their species was one that was extinct she would settle for causing them harm, starting with the violent little beast in front of her.
FGHP
Irritable and on edge Clayton was heading up to Gryffindor tower. He still had the majority of his belongings up there in his trunk. He needed some of his clothes from there and he couldn’t put off going any longer. He was already in a foul mood and so he figured that visiting Gryffindor tower wasn’t going to make it any worse; though perhaps he was even more likely to punch Ron in the face if he said anything.
Clay’s hand was throbbing, the words ‘I must behave appropriately,’ engraved deeply on the back of it. He did have his skateboard back; the odious Umbridge woman had at least honoured her word and returned his most prized possession to him at the end of the detention. He wasn’t foolish enough to use it though, and instead had it tucked under one arm as he trudged towards Gryffindor tower.
Giving the portrait of the fat lady the password, Clay stepped inside the tower. The common room was abuzz with chatter from the students within; no one really paid him much attention as he hurried through the room and towards the stairs to the dormitory.
He had actually made it upstairs, grabbed what he needed and was on his way out again before an all too familiar voice called his name across the common room. Stopping his determined progress back to the Slytherin dungeons and closing his eyes in frustration, Clay turned to face Ron, who seemed to be spoiling for a fight once more.
“Where’re you going, Danes?” Ron asked in a mocking tone, glaring at him. Dean was backing him up but his other lap dog, Seamus, had not bothered to get up out his seat. Apparently the Irishman was fed up with all these unnecessary confrontations.
“None of your business, Weasley,” Clayton snarled in return. After spending the evening dealing with Umbridge the last thing he wanted to do was deal with Ron. However, he knew that he had to watch what he said; he was outnumbered here, he had very few friends; even the twins, whom he was friendly with, were Ron’s brothers and if it came to a fight he couldn’t count on them to back him up.
“Sneaking off all the time, never sleeping in the tower,” Ron snarled. “Because of you we’re not going to win the house cup this year!”
“Oh, Ronnikins, are you jealous?” Fred asked, mockingly to his little brother as he and George came over to see what all the fuss was about. The confrontation had drawn the interest of a number of interested parties.
“Are you crushing on, Clay?” George asked as he ruffled his brother’s hair.
“I think so, Georgie,” Fred said with glee. “Why else would our baby brother be so concerned with where Clay sleeps.”
Clayton couldn’t help but laugh as the twins came to his aid; Ron, however, completely failed to find any amusement in his older brothers’ antics and was glowering rather hatefully at them.
“No offence, but you’re not really my type,” Clayton said to Ron, through his laughter. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.”
What happened next happened so quickly that it took those watching a moment to react. The moment that Clay turned his back to Ron, going to leave, the red-head pounced, not believing that the conversation was over and not liking the fact that he had been humiliated.
He had grabbed hold of the werewolf, turned him rather forcefully and had thrown a punch at him before anyone could stop him. It was perhaps fortunate that Clay was what he was because the force of the blow dealt hardly fazed him. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the other teenager as a low snarl of warning left his throat; but, before Clay could retaliate, the twins had grabbed hold of their youngest brother and pulled him away.
“Ron!” Hermione had exclaimed when the red-head had thrown the punch; she had sounded truly horrified and now that Ron was separated from Clay, she rushed forward to inspect the latter for injuries. Clayton, however, growled at her in warning, shrugging her off.
Seamus had stood up in shock, not quite believing what he had just witnessed. He was getting tired of the bullshit between these two. He had liked Neville but so far Harry and his friends had done and said nothing against him; and they hadn’t made any move to replace him either. As far as Seamus could see they were just like any of the rest of them.
Looking the twins each in the eye, Clayton nodded his thanks to them, glad that he didn’t have to fight Ron. It wasn’t at all egotistical of him to know that he could have liquidised the little shit, especially considering that Jenson had been teaching him how to fight. But Clay knew that he was in enough trouble already without beating the crap out of pathetic little creatures like Ron.
“Leave me alone, Granger,” Clayton hissed as once again as Hermione continued attempting to check him over for injuries, her hands coming to rest on his biceps or on his back once too often. He turned to leave, having had enough of the drama and bullshit attached to being in Gryffindor tower.
Still holding the clothes he had originally come for and his skateboard in his hands, Clay headed for the door, wanting to make a swift exit before he did something that he regretted later. The urge to pummel Ron into the ground was almost too difficult to resist; if his hand hadn’t been throbbing so badly from his detention with Umbridge then he might not have had the willpower to resist.
“That’s right,” Ron shouted after him, “run away!”
That was enough for Clay, who whirled around, approaching Ron with a fury in his eyes as he rounded on the red-head, who was still being restrained by Fred and George. Though the twins looked a little dubious when they saw how angry Clayton was.
“Get it straight, you pathetic little shit, me walking away isn’t cowardly or admitting defeat, it’s pity and merciful,” Clay snarled at him, all but spitting the words in Ron’s face. “I would wipe the floor with you and you wouldn’t live to see another day. Don’t push me or I’ll be forced to prove just how pathetic you are,” Clay growled warningly.
He then quickly turned on his heel and stormed out, a heavy shocked silence hanging over the Gryffindors as they watched him go. He just knew that he had to leave before anything else could be said that might break his resolve to walk away without inflicting damage.
FGHP
Clayton didn’t mention anything about his confrontation with the Gryffindors when he returned to Slytherin common room; he had been too on edge to want to rehash it and didn’t want his pack siblings to worry, like he was sure they would if they knew.
He had quickly and easily spotted Harry, who had been playing pool with Draco, and Romy, who had been sat at a table, a short distance away. She had been doing outlines for Clay’s homework to make it easier for him to finish it, so the three of them could go to bed; something he was extremely grateful for.
Clay did his best to conceal the scar on his hand as well, finding that he wasn’t really in the mood to go into detail about the detention or the grilling he had got from Umbridge regarding their presence in the school and Harry. Clayton knew that Harry had enough to worry about right now without anything else on his mind. He was just fortunate that neither Romy nor Harry noticed the cut on the back of his hand before he got a chance to subtly cast the spell as soon as it occurred to him that he could conceal it with a glamour.
The next morning before they even headed off to breakfast, Romy had noticed that he was quieter than usual; she had actually noticed it the previous evening too, but had put it down to tiredness from a long day.
“Are you okay, Clay?” she asked him quietly, a concerned expression on her face; it was rather out of character for him to be so withdrawn.
“I’m fine,” Clayton told her, with a slightly forced smile, shrugging off her concerns. He decided to take the lead to the Great Hall before she could start questioning him about the evening before; he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her if she started asking. Besides he was hungry and wanted to get something to eat, as frequently happened, his stomach taking priority.
Romy had turned to look to Harry for answers but Harry could only shrug as he had no more of a clue as to what was going on with his best friend than Romy did; he had to agree that he too was concerned, but he figured that Clayton would tell them when he was ready. There was no point trying to get anything out of his best friend, especially if he wasn’t ready to talk.
Their Wednesday morning classes of Ancient Runes and Potions thankfully passed without incident and Harry was even able to check on his liquid luck potion, which was developing the way it was supposed to, just as Harry had known that it would. He was rather proud of it and Slughorn, even more so. The creepy professor was spending a lot of time talking to him during the lessons now, rather than actually teaching, which was not something that Harry felt entirely comfortable with; and was doing nothing to endear him to the idea of the Slug club that the potions master kept on mentioning.
However, Harry had a different teacher that he wanted to talk to today. After lunch was Defence Against the Dark Arts and that, of course, meant Professor Lupin. Harry had decided that if he was going to get the answers that he needed then this man was probably a good place to start. He had been there the night that this mess had all started, after all, and Harry was hopeful that Lupin would be able to clear a few things up before he went to see Dumbledore, who was, by far, going to be the most challenging to deal with.
Harry sat through class, not really paying much attention to what was going on as he knew most of it already, instead using the time to mull over what he was going to say. Knowing that this professor was a werewolf was rather strange too but Harry was hoping that it might help them bond a little, even if Harry was dubious about whether or not he could trust him.
When the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson the rest of the class started to put away their things. Harry, however, put his book, parchment and quill into his bag but remained sitting; he was deliberately moving a little slower than everyone else, knowing that he would need an empty classroom for what he had to say to Lupin.
“You coming?” Clay asked as he flung his bag over his shoulder.
“Don’t want to be late for Binns,” Draco said in a sarcastic drawl.
“You two go ahead,” Harry said to his friends. “I’ll catch up with you but there is something I have to discuss with Lupin.”
At this Clay and Draco gave him twin looks of confusion and Harry was momentarily amused that when they pulled that face it was remarkable just how similar the two boys looked. Shaking it off as his over active imagination, he bid his friends farewell, grateful that Draco shut the classroom door on his way out, so that it was just him and Lupin.
“Can I help you, Mr Prince?” the professor asked casually, surveying the teenager with interest.
He was struggling to keep calm; he had never suspected that Harry would come to him and actually want to talk, particularly after the swift brush off Harry had given him when he had tried to have a conversation before. It still astounded him just how much Harry looked like James, though Lily’s eyes were there for all to see. It was remarkable to think that their son was standing in front of him now and that he was cursed.
“So,” Harry begun, getting up from his seat and leaning against his desk as he watched Lupin carefully, “you’re a werewolf.”
Remus perched himself on the edge of his desk as he snorted in amusement at this, momentarily thinking that that was the same casually blunt attitude that James had had too. But he nodded regardless as there really was no denying it, not when he could smell it on Harry and vice versa. “I am,” Remus confirmed needlessly. “And so are you.”
“Do you have a pack?” Harry asked, curious about this man and why he would chose to live and teach at Hogwarts.
“No, I don’t,” Remus said to the young boy truthfully. “Though I assume that you do,” he went on, “especially considering your young friends, Clayton and Romy.” He also remembered all too well having seen Harry leaving the Ingleton house with Greyback, but revealing that knowledge and his spying didn’t seem like the right way to start this conversation he had been so hopeful for.
“Yes,” Harry stated rather bluntly, not wanting to give too much away too soon; he was the one asking the questions and therefore he was the one in control, he would keep it that way. “What do you do on full moons then, if you don’t have a pack?”
Remus sighed. “I take the wolfsbane potion and I go to the shrieking shack in Hogsmeade so that I won’t hurt anyone.” He didn’t want Harry to think badly of him; even knowing the boy was cursed like he was, he didn’t want James’ son to think him a monster.
“You shouldn’t take that potion,” Harry said somewhat stiffly. He knew, of course, that Lupin was using the more common one, given that the one that Harry had been taking had been made by his Dad, especially for him. It wouldn’t have quite the same adverse side effects that the more potent version did, but Harry still suspected it was damaging.
It was strange for him now, having become so accustomed to taking the potion all his life, how much better he felt for having it gone from his system, particularly given how his senses were slowly starting to return; he suspected his pain receptors would never fully recover, though that did have its advantages. He didn’t blame his Dad for what he had inadvertently done to him, but he never wanted another werewolf to be damaged as he had been.
“It keeps others safe,” Remus said, trying to make himself sound reasonable. Though he was delighted that Harry was speaking with him, he was rather curious as to why; why he was there, talking to him and asking so many questions. He was fascinated to know why now, when the boy had been at the school for almost a month.
“That’s what I thought too,” Harry said bluntly. “But the potion will damage your senses and you’d be fine on the full moons if you were in a pack. I am,” he told him, watching the professor intently, reading his every movement.
“I don’t think that that is entirely true,” Remus said gently, not wanting to upset Harry or make him walk away when they had only just started talking. “What we are is extremely dangerous.” The idea that he might accidentally bite someone had always been something he feared; he was so glad that none of his reckless adventures during his time at Hogwarts had ended badly, but that one terrible full moon, all those years ago, before Harry was even born, still gave him nightmares and haunted him to this day.
“I don’t believe that,” Harry said confidently. “I used to,” he added at Remus’ highly sceptical expression, “but I don’t any more; not now I’ve been in a pack and I’ve known different.” The pack had really changed everything for him and he had really come to accept the wolf as part of who he was without even realising it.
“Well, perhaps you could try to convince me,” Remus suggested, hoping to be able to get the chance to talk to Harry again; he certainly wanted to encourage this open line of communication. There was nothing more that he wanted than to help protect James’ and Lily’s son. Harry was the only family he had left aside from Sirius, who he wasn’t really talking to at the moment, not after the disastrous end to their relationship.
“Convince you how?” Harry asked dubiously.
“Perhaps, if you’d be agreeable, then we can talk once a week, whenever it is convenient for you,” Remus suggested hopefully. He was no fool and knew that Harry would need time to get used to him, to learn to trust him, and so he was going to give the young werewolf that; he could be patient.
“Why would you want to do that?” Harry asked suspiciously, unsure of what the Professor’s motives could be; it seemed like such a strange request, when Harry had no idea what they could possibly talk about if they were to meet that often.
“Because I would like to get to know you,” Remus said honestly. “I knew your parents, we all went to school together and I would consider it an honour to get to know their son. I could tell you about them if you would like me to,” he offered kindly, his hope buoyed by the fact that Harry hadn’t just refused him outright.
Harry thought this over for a moment, wondering whether it was a common thing to know his parents. Slughorn had taught his mother and father, Remus had gone to school with them. Harry was beginning to understand that he didn’t know his parents much at all. He had never thought to ask too many questions, his life was just what it was, but coming here, the situation he was in, it was strange and he wasn’t sure that he liked it.
“Alright,” Harry said after a few moments, thinking that more information was unlikely to do anything but help him; that was why he had wanted to speak with Lupin anyway and now the man was offering to willing share at least some of what he knew. “But on my terms,” Harry added quickly.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Remus said with a smile. He couldn’t help but notice how much like James, Harry was, not only in his looks but in his personality too. For a young boy who had not grown up with his biological parents, Remus was astounded how much of them he could see in the teenager.
“I have to go,” Harry said, picking up his book bag and flinging it over his shoulder with ease, realising that this had already taken much longer than he had anticipated. “I’m already late.”
“Let me write you a note, so you won’t get into trouble,” Remus offered, already reaching behind him to grab a piece of parchment; Harry, however, just laughed and gave the Professor a disbelieving look.
“Binns won’t even notice that I’m not there,” Harry said with a snort of amusement. “If he notices me sneaking in twenty minutes late it’ll be a miracle.”
“On any other occasion I would tell you that it is not appropriate to talk about your teachers in that manner,” Remus said with a small smile to the teenager. “However, on this particular point I think that it is justified; just this once mind you,” he added, putting the unused parchment back on his desk.
Harry returned the smile, deciding that Remus wasn’t actually all that bad. Of course he didn’t trust him; if that was ever going to happen, which was unlikely, then it was going to take time, but for the moment at least, Harry didn’t dislike him, which was at least progress.
FGHP
Narcissa rocked in her chair with Brax in her arms. Lucius was thankfully absent from the nursery for the moment but she knew that that wouldn't last long. He always came back sooner rather than later. She still had no idea how he had gotten himself through the wards, which she had checked and found to still be in place, but somehow he had managed the seemingly impossible.
Sometimes he would drag her from the room, leaving the house elves to care for Brax but at other times he would just take what he wanted from her there and then, without a care for their sleeping child in the crib close by.
What little affection he had once shown her seemed to be finally completely dead and gone, and Narcissa was surprised to find that she did not mourn for it. It was so much easier to hate Lucius for all he had done and was doing when there was no longer any pretence that their marriage was anything more than a farce.
"I'm sorry, my beautiful baby boy," she whispered to her sleeping son in her arms. "You deserve so much more than this."
She still held out hope that the war might end one day soon; maybe then her two boys would be able to live their lives free from the rein of a mad man and their bullying tyrant of a father. Maybe they could all live in peace then.
FGHP
It had been three days since the young werewolves had returned Hogwarts and the headmaster had been rather hopeful, given the reminder that he had given Harry in Great Hall, that the boy might come see him of his own accord. But so far he had not. Thanks to his endless resources Albus had been made aware that Harry had spoken to Lupin and even to Slughorn, a fact that grated on him.
He knew that the boy didn’t understand the urgency of what they needed to achieve, of the need to find and destroy the Horcruxes, but Harry would learn of that soon, one way or another. He was reluctant to force Harry’s hand in the matter just yet, but if he had to reveal that he had Severus then he would.
There were too many distractions in Harry’s life at the moment, between Quidditch, his pack siblings and the entire débâcle with Blaise. He would help the boy to see what the real priorities were and soon, just as soon as he could get Harry to speak with him alone.
If the plan he had forged regarding Romy’s parents played out, then Harry might have one less distraction very soon. Dumbledore was hopeful that the girl’s separation from the others might cause a rift allowing Harry to focus more on what was important. At least this was what he was hoping, though it was certainly not a fool proof plan by any means.
John Pridmore was not exactly a man to be trifled with and his hatred of werewolves was well known. He would ensure that the girl’s parents were suitably horrified. Dumbledore was rather of the opinion that Pridmore and his lot were a bit extreme in many ways, violent too, but that currently suited his purposes perfectly. He didn’t care if the girl was killed, she was of very little worth to him and it would mean there was one less werewolf in the world. It didn’t bother him at all in the grand scheme of things; there were always casualties in war after all.
He would let things play out how they would with Pridmore and the Chester family, now that he had put them in touch with each other; his priority was speaking with Harry. He would give him until the beginning of next week and then he would summon him; his patience was only going to last so long, even if it would be preferable for Harry to come willingly.
FGHP
Romy was keen to get to the library that Thursday evening after dinner; she thought she had finally figured out the wards for their forest classroom, or at least was very close to doing so. The plan was to borrow the books they needed and then go test them out. She was, however, rather surprised and suspicious of how keen the two boys were on that idea.
It was becoming quite clear that Harry was avoiding Cedric, though he had yet to share with them exactly why; Romy had a feeling that he was really starting to believe what they had told him about Cedric’s feelings for him and, while she was glad that he was no longer in denial, she didn’t think that this was the best way for him to deal with the head boy’s unreciprocated affections.
None the less, as soon as Harry had spotted Cedric getting up from his seat, he suddenly decided that he had eaten quite enough and told his pack sibling that if they wanted to keep eating then he would meet them in the library, before he got up to leave. Of course they weren’t about let him out of their sight, and so the two of them followed him post haste.
And then there was Clayton; he had been in a funny mood ever since returning from his detention with Umbridge on Tuesday evening. Romy was definitely curious and more than a little worried about what that awful woman might have said or done to leave her normally hyperactive and outspoken cousin in such a persistently foul mood.
Romy had asked him several times over the last couple days if he was okay, or what was bothering him; but after she had done so the previous evening, when he had snapped at her and told her to mind her own business, she had opted to hold her tongue. Both she and Harry had stared at Clay in shock; never before had he been so bluntly rude to his younger cousin. Of course he had apologised almost immediately afterwards, but even that had been rather half hearted, and promptly followed by him going off to sulk.
Now though, as she gathered up the books they needed, he was back to his stony, miserable silence. It didn’t take long for Romy to gather the few texts that contained the details of the wards they would be testing, and for her to sign them out of the library; Madam Pince certainly didn’t seem to think anything odd about the collection of books.
“You can’t avoid Cedric forever, you know,” Romy told Harry with a sympathetic smile, as they made their way down the Grand Staircase, in the direction of their abandoned classroom.
“I can try,” Harry grumbled under his breath; he was not surprised, though a little frustrated that Romy had picked up on what he had been doing. He glanced over his shoulder to confirm that Clayton was still wandering along just behind them as they turned into the second floor corridor.
“Honestly, the two of you are behaving like hormonal teenage girls at the moment,” Romy pointed out with an annoyed huff. She thought that they actually might be worse than any of her Ravenclaw dorm-mates; not that she had spent enough time with those girls to actually be sure.
Harry glared at her for that, but it just made her roll her eyes. “And for the record, before you get all huffy, that was entirely about this little snit you’re having, and not a reference to your submissive nature,” she told him sternly before he could start on her about that.
“I’m not having a snit,” Harry said defensively, an offended expression on his face. “I simply don’t really feel like having to explain where I was all week; particularly not to a guy who I am really starting to think likes me a whole lot more than I originally thought.”
“So you are just going to avoid him?” Romy asked with a tone of disapproval. “You can’t just let him go on thinking he has a chance with you, Harry,” she pointed out. “Cedric is a good guy and certainly doesn’t deserve to be led on like that; what’s more is you know it, which is why you look so guilty right now.”
“Yes, I know it, alright,” Harry said, though his annoyance was now rather half-hearted, and he gave her a wry smile. She was quite right, of course; he wasn’t being fair to the head boy at all, and decided that he would speak to him at the next reasonable chance he got. “So you really think you have these wards figured out?” he asked, keen to change the subject.
“I think so,” she told him. She was fairly confident that she had been able to finally work out what they needed. It had been a challenge, much more of one than her classes could offer her, and she was going to miss that. “Only one way to know for sure,” she said with a smile.
Reaching their classroom the three of them dumped their school bags down in the corridor, Romy retrieving the books that they needed, and heading into the classroom, cleaning off one of the battered old desks of dust and laying them out open to the relevant pages. She started reading over the details once more to be sure that she knew what she was doing before she started.
“Come on,” Clay grumbled as he watched her read, throwing himself into the same chair he had cleaned off the very first time they found the room. “You already read through the instructions at least a dozen times,” he complained, not in the mood to sit around in a dusty old classroom with nothing to do.
“If you haven’t got anything productive to add, cousin dear, kindly pipe down,” Romy said sweetly, not even bothering to glance up from the pages she was skimming over. These were tricky wards and she needed to make sure that she got them right.
“She sure told you,” Harry said with a chuckle.
“And I will tell you too if you don’t let me read in peace for a moment,” she told him, throwing a glare over her shoulder at him. In truth she could read with him talking just fine, but the last thing any of them needed was an even more antagonised Clayton. Harry held his hands up in surrender and gave her an innocent smile, which she didn’t buy for a second; but she still turned back to the relevant text.
“Okay, come on you two, I think I’ve got it,” she told them after a few minutes.
“You said that half an hour ago,” Clay mumbled, but both Romy and Harry ignored his comment.
“Wands out; and no dirty remarks or I’ll stun you both,” she ploughed on with determination. They were going to get these wards up and stable today if she had anything to say about it; and, given that it was her who had spent the best part of a month researching it, she actually had rather a lot to say about it.
“Where do you need me?” Harry asked, doing as instructed and getting his wand out.
“Doesn’t matter a great deal, as long as you are within the room,” Romy instructed. “This ward doesn’t require multiple people to cast but I believe that by having several of us cast at once we can create a more stable ward.”
“Can we get this over with please,” Clayton grumbled unhappily.
“Come on, Clay,” Harry said, walking over to his friend and giving him a nudge, “cheer up, it might never happen.”
“Shut up,” Clayton snapped, standing up and removing his wand from his robes.
“Both of you stop it, we need to concentrate,” Romy chastised. “Whatever has got into you Clayton, snap out of it, I mean it.”
“You know what, do the wards on your own,” Clayton said, losing his cool and heading for the exit. He was utterly fed up and he just needed to get out for a bit. However, just outside of the door he had a moment of conscious and knew that he couldn't leave them, not after what had happened the last time.
With an angry sigh, Clayton kicked the stone wall in fury before sinking down to the ground in a huff. He hated being here, he hated being away from the pack and now there was something he didn’t know about going on with his Dad and Micha; something that apparently everyone else was clued into. Add to all of that the Gryffindors and Umbridge, it was a frustratingly infuriating situation that he couldn’t escape.
“Should I go after him?” Harry asked, looking to Romy questioningly when the classroom door had slammed shut behind Clay.
“No, leave him to his temper tantrum, let’s get these wards up and then, if his highness deems us worthy, he can talk to us later,” she said with irritation.
“Alright,” Harry said a little dubiously. He remembered all too well what had happened the last time Clayton had gone off in a strop. Harry was reluctant to admit that it was rather uncomfortable for him to be without Clayton and the protection that he provided; though hopefully they would soon be behind their new wards. Pushing his unease aside, Harry tried to do as Romy instructed and prepare himself to erect the wards.
It was times like this that Romy loved the fact that she was left-handed, she was able to hold her wand in her casting hand and still link hands with Harry so that the two of them were connected. She hated fighting with Clayton as much as Harry did but she wouldn’t put up with his mood swings being taken out on them for any reason.
“Ready?” Romy asked, squeezing Harry’s hand.
“Ready,” Harry responded, turning to smile at his pack sister and giving a nod of approval. The spell was a simple one but it was the timing of it that would be tricky. It was because they were casting it together in a joint effort that they had to say the words at the same time or their efforts would counteract each other.
“After three,” she said and saw Harry nod his understanding. “One, Two, Three…”
“Internum Praesidio Scutum,” they said in unison, each of them waving their wand in the distinctive circular motion required.
There was a shift in the air around them as the murmured the spell, the atmosphere seemed to ripple and crackle all at the same time. The smell that lingered in around them was one of magic and power, an intensity that if they had reached out then they felt as if they might have been able to touch it.
“I think we did it,” Romy said in absolute amazement, looking to Harry with a huge smile on her face. She hadn’t actually thought it would work first time, particularly with only the two of them rather than the three she had thought they would have.
“I think you did it,” Harry amended sharing her joyous smile. He was so proud of his pack sister; she had worked so hard to make it happen and now they could finally really work on having their forest classroom to sleep in.
“Come off it, Harry,” Romy said with a smile, shaking her head at him “That power isn’t mine, it’s all yours,” she pointed out, looking around the room and feeling pleased to see that the ward remained completely invisible, which was a great indication of its stability.
“I’m not that powerful,” Harry said in disbelief.
“I think you underestimate yourself,” Romy said, still holding on to his hand.
“So do you,” Harry returned before he looked towards the door and sighed. “I suppose we better go and find him.” He wasn’t looking forward having to deal with Clay’s bad mood.
“Leave him for a bit, let him calm down” Romy said firmly. “The last thing we need is you two fighting. Let’s start growing the forest so we can move our stuff in here and finally get a proper night's sleep. I don’t know about you but I don’t think that bed we’re sharing was made to fit more than one,” she told him with a frown, “and if I have to wake up with Clayton’s happy place poking me in the back any more I might have to resort to drastic measures.”
Harry gave a chuckle of amusement. “Alright, come on then, clever clogs, let’s get this forest going,” Harry said happily, letting go of Romy’s hand and gesturing to the classroom. He was really loving the idea of actually getting to sleep in their own little piece of nature, even if it was still inside the castle.
“Me?” Romy asked, looking at him in surprise. “You’re the one who said it would be easy, that if Dumbledore could do it then you could,” she reminded him.
“Doesn’t mean I know how to do it,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders; he was sure that it wouldn’t be a problem to do once he knew the spells but it wasn’t something that he had come across in his various studies; he did suppose it was rather a specialised bit of magic.
“Oh for goodness sake,” Romy exclaimed; she really felt she should have known that Harry had just been being boastful and putting the headmaster down. She certainly had no prior experience with creating indoor forests; why would she when she had spent the last few years living in a real forest and had virtually no experience with magic prior to that. “Looks like it’s back to the library then,” she said with a sigh.
“Yep,” Harry agreed, he had been expecting that anyway. “And you have to admit that you’re a little pleased about that,” he added with a devious little smirk.
“Why would I be pleased?” Romy asked, glaring at him.
“Because you love the library and research,” Harry told her, to which she nodded her agreement; there was no arguing that point. “And because you get to feel Clayton’s happy place for a while longer,” he added, earning a rather hard swot to the arm.
“Why would I be pleased about that?” Romy demanded to know, looking horrified at the implication; honestly Clay’s physical reaction to her just mostly made her uncomfortable.
“Because he only gets it for you,” Harry said with a chuckle, thinking that his pack sister was protesting perhaps a little too much.
“Again, why would that please me?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.
“You love it really… or more specifically you love him really,” Harry amended with a smirk. He knew that there was definitely something between Romy and Clayton, he just wanted to see them both happy, and if that was with each other, then all the better.
“Harry, you are aware that you aren’t the pack matchmaker,” Romy told him with an exasperated sigh and a shake of her head. “And you certainly don’t have wings and you’re not called cupid,” she added with a stern expression.
“I know but it’s fun,” Harry said with an unrelenting grin.
“Harry, I love you but please, I’m begging you, don’t get involved,” she pleaded, wanting to take the time to work through her feelings in her own time, preferably without Harry’s meddling; not to mention that he kept giving Clayton hope that she wasn’t sure she could, or would ever want to, meet.
“But you like him!” Harry insisted, just wanting her to admit it to him; it wasn’t as though Clayton was there or anywhere within earshot.
“Maybe he isn’t the only one,” Romy said quietly, thinking on the strange attraction she had been feeling towards Draco. She certainly wasn’t sure how she felt about either of the boys though.
“Wow,” Harry said, blinking at her slowly in surprise. “Then who?” he asked with genuine curiosity.
“I’m not telling you,” she said quickly. She wasn’t sure about whether or not she should have even mentioned as much as she had; though, maybe it would keep Harry for persisting with his silly insistence that she was secretly in love with Clayton. “Now come on, let’s go,”
“No, tell me, please,” Harry all but begged, wondering if it was possible that Romy returned Draco’s feelings that he had felt in the blond’s mind. “I want to know,” he said, putting on his kicked puppy expression that had worked wonders on many people over the years.
Romy scowled at her devious little pack brother, but not about to be swayed so easily. “End of discussion, Harry,” she told him, shaking his head as she turned, pocketed her wand and started to gather up the books. “Now let’s go to the library and sort this forest out. I’m looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep and not sharing a bathroom with loads of boys who I don’t know,” she told him with a smile, making him snort with amusement, before going to grab his own book bag.
FGHP
Clayton leaned his head back against the stone wall behind him; he could hear Romy and Harry talking and resented Romy’s ‘temper tantrum’ comment, but forced himself to remain seated on the floor, rather than storming into the classroom and probably saying something he would regret.
He listened in as the two of them got ready to cast the ward and bit back the hurt that he felt about them proceeding without him, as though he wasn’t needed at all. He knew that he had told them to do it themselves, but he hadn’t quite believed they actually would.
“...One, two, three,” he heard Romy counting down.
“Internum Praesidio Scutum,” the two of the called out in perfect sync with each other, and the words were followed by a strange change in the air pressure and he could feel the magic tingling in the walls behind him. It was rather odd to actually be able to feel the powerful ward forming and it distracted him such that it took a moment to realise he could no longer hear his pack siblings talking.
“Guess it worked,” Clay said, torn between impressed and bitter about how little he was needed. He really felt like he was little more than a guard dog to them at the moment. His best friend had an alternative, the girl he loved wasn’t interested, even his dad had a life apart from him and was keeping secrets.
He was so caught up in his thoughts, and thanks to the silencing effect of the wards, he was taken by surprise when the two of them exited the room a few minutes later. They halted upon spotting him sat next to the door, looking at him with such surprise that he wanted to laugh at them. Did they really think he would leave them unprotected?
“You… stayed?” Romy asked quietly.
“Yes, I am here to keep you safe,” Clay said coldly, getting to his feet. “I mean to make sure that I do that properly.”
“Oh, erm, thank you,” she said, clearly slightly shaken by him having been sitting outside the room. Harry, however, was just watching him silently. “We’re going back to the library,” Romy told him, “to find the spells for the indoor forest. The ward worked and seems to be stable.”
“I noticed,” Clay said. “I felt the magic and then couldn’t hear anything inside the room anymore,” he explained; the flash of relief on Romy’s face made him wonder exactly what the two of them had been talking about. “Lead the way then,” he said, gesturing down the corridor.
Romy and Harry shared a look that Clayton didn’t really understand before heading off back in the direction of the library, Clay trailing behind them.

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Fragmented Soul