Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Path Less Traveled	By : bezo93 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 16679 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 11
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the characters. I do not make any money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
A/N: If you have read this fic on Ao3 then this chapter was split into two chapters there (I forget why, something to do with timing and technical issues). There is no missing content, I've just combined the two chapters into the one chapter it was originally supposed to be.

Despite only arranging to meet Timothy at four, Harry had been in the Leaky Cauldron’s bar since noon. He was sitting at a table with a plate of sandwiches he had barely nibbled on and an open Runes textbook that he struggled to focus on for long enough to read. Nervous anticipation filled him, making him feel like he had before playing his first quidditch match.
It was finally happening! He was going to visit the Creature District and make a true start on his Scouting. No more days spent uselessly staring at Knockturn Alley, berating himself for being too much of a coward to brave it and go after something he truly wanted.
His head snapped up as the bell over the door jingled.
It was not Timothy.
Grumbling at his own overreaction, he checked his watch. 3.30pm, another thirty minutes until his escort was due to arrive. Just thirty minutes. He had already been here three and a half hours, how hard could waiting another thirty minutes be?
Very hard, Harry thought as he glanced at watch after what had felt like half an hour but had only really only been five minutes. Every time the bell over the door jingled his head would snap up from the book he was supposed to be reading, hoping that Timothy had arrived early. It was going to give him whiplash if he carried on - the Leaky Cauldron was a very busy pub and people were coming and going constantly.
Finally, finally he spotted the bulky shape of Timothy entering through the door. The werewolf barely had a chance to glance around the room before Harry was on him, tugging him over to the table the small demon had commandeered for the afternoon.
“You’re ready to go then?” Timothy asked amused as Harry continued to drag him around, first venturing upstairs to drop off everything the demon wasn’t bringing with him, then back to the door leading to Diagon Alley. Harry was almost vibrating with excitement as they set off.
As they got closer to Knockturn Alley, however, the young demon began to feel increasingly nervous. He didn’t remember a great deal about his accidental trip to the Alley last year but what he did remember was not pleasant. Borgin and Burke’s had been creepy, the sinister feel of the shop not helped by witnessing Lucius Malfoy trying to sell what Harry suspected were illegal goods. Then the Alley itself had been scary with so many odd shops, unfamiliar faces and the aura of Darkness the place had.
The Darkness had of the place had been the worst thing. In his brief time in the wizarding world he had faced some very creepy magical creatures (the acromantula immediately sprang to mind) and met some odd beings (as much as he liked Hagrid, the half-giant wasn’t exactly normal), but none of them had been as intimidating as the Darkness that saturated the Dark District. The only things he had faced so far that were even comparable were Voldemort and the basilisk, each being inherently Dark and possessing their own Dark aura that was like a diluted version of what he felt in the Dark District.
It was that Darkness that made him take a step closer to Timothy as they reached the entrance to the Alley. The werewolf made no comment, simply clapping Harry on the shoulder - gently, to avoid sending the petite demon flying - and continued forwards into Knockturn. Harry pulled up the hood of his cloak and followed, keeping close to the large werewolf as they moved deeper into the Alley.
The raven haired demon examined the shops as they passed. Some of them weren’t much different to the shops in Diagon, with window displays of potions or clothes or everyday magic objects.

Other shops weren’t quite so innocent looking.
One shop looked like it sold body parts, while another had cages filled with creatures Harry was sure were more likely to appear in the Defence Against the Dark Arts curriculum than Care of Magical Creatures. A few shops, such as Borgin and Burke’s, radiated so much Dark magic that just looking at them for too long made Harry feel uncomfortable.
“Well, well. Dragging them in off the streets nice and young are we?” An oily voice dragged Harry’s attention away from the shops. “I didn’t know you beasts were getting so desperate.” The man said, leering at Harry’s cloaked form.
Timothy stepped between them with a snarl, drawing a few startled looks from passersby - nobody lingered once they saw where the noise was coming from. Glancing up, Harry was surprised to see the werewolf’s eyes flashing gold.The full moon wasn’t for another week or so and it took a lot to rile a werewolf enough for them to show wolf traits outside of the few days surrounding the full moon. The wizard’s arrogant smirk didn’t diminish but Harry could feel the wizard’s Dark aura snap around them defensively.
“Now, now, that’s a bit of an overreaction,” the wizard drawled but neither Creature missed how his hand now rested on his wand. “Quite unnecessary, unless you really do have something to hide?”
With effort Timothy pulled the wolf back enough to talk, though he couldn't quiet the growl rumbling in his chest. “Of course we have things to hide. We’re good at it too, or have you forgotten who you are paying to keep your dirty dealings hidden from the Ministry?”
“Big words from a man relying on charity to hold a job. Your lot are too dependant on our money to stop hiding us. Besides, do you think the Ministry would side with a bunch of filthy beasts over respectable pureblood wizards?” the wizard sneered.
“Maybe not, but wouldn’t it be a shame if our services happened to lapse the same day the DMLE received an anonymous tip about your family’s black market trading? Imagine the scandal when the Prophet found out,” Timothy said calmly, not moving from his place in front of Harry. The wizard gritted his teeth glaring at the werewolf before storming off, muttering angrily about half-breeds.
“I can take care of myself you know,” Harry muttered once the wizard was gone. He hadn’t wanted to interfere in an argument he knew very little about but he didn’t want Timothy thinking that he couldn’t handle a single wizard being a racist arse. He hadn’t backed down from Lucius Malfoy at the end of the school year and he wasn’t about to start letting Dark wizards push him around now. The Dark District may set him on edge but he wasn’t some weak little submissive who needed a protecter to hide behind.
Timothy huffed. “If half of what you have told me about your antics so far is true I don’t doubt that you can take care of yourself. That doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon you to deal with everything by yourself, especially not here. I live here, I know more about how to handle the idiots here than you do, and it’s easier for me to deal with them than it would be for you, so I will deal with them.”
Harry scowled but didn’t argue. The werewolf’s argument made sense and knowing that Timothy hadn’t intervened just because Harry was a submissive made him feel better about it. He heard far too much ‘submissives should be protected’ from his housemates at school.
The advantage of the confrontation was that it had distracted Harry from his surroundings. By the time he had stopped in metal griping about the overprotectiveness of dominants they were almost in the Creature District. The worst of the Dark shops had been passed and most of the shops around them now sold Neutral (if legally questionable) goods that would be of interest to both wizards and Creatures.
With the Dark shops behind them Harry went back to studying the shop displays with renewed interested. It quickly became apparent that not all the buildings were shops. There were several pubs, some cafes and a few places that Harry didn’t get to look too closely at as Timothy hurried him past them, including one place called Veela’s Promise.
The transition from Dark District to Creature District was hard to miss. Passing under a stone archway, the Alley opened out into a large courtyard filled with cafes, shops and a few bars, with a street leading out of the square directly across fro the Knockturn entrance. It was also filled with Creatures.
Walking into the square reminded Harry of the first time he entered Gryffindor common room, his senses almost overwhelmed by the number of Creatures in one place. The Creature District was much more intense than Gryffindor Tower had been, having a greater number and variety of Creatures. Harry could see a group of goblins sitting outside one of the bars and even a banshee sticking to the shadows near a cafe. The other outstanding difference between Gryffindor Tower and the Creature District was the lack of children here. Only those who had come into their inheritance were allowed in the District, which meant Harry was likely the youngest person there.
Next to him, Timothy was grinning at the young submissive’s awe. Most people had their family to show them around for their first visit, so this was the first time the werewolf had had the opportunity to introduce someone to his home. Harry’s obvious delight at the place made him puff up proudly.
“Come on, there’s a place everybody who comes here should visit. You can gawk later, the square isn’t going anywhere,” Timothy teased giving Harry a nudge. Making sure the demon was following him, Timothy made a beeline for one of the more unusual - and popular - cafes in the square.
Harry recalled seeing photographs from one of the Dursley’s many holidays when they had visited a restaurant called the Rainforest Cafe. As impressive as the muggle jungle-themed restaurant had looked, it had nothing on the coffee house Timothy was leading him into. The building had no sign with a name as far as he could see, but it didn’t need one. Not many cafes had a doorway made of woven vines with loose hanging vines forming a curtain in place of a door.
Inside was no less impressive. The floor was carpeted in real grass and all the furniture seemed to be small, oddly shaped, but very much alive trees, with roots disappearing into the grass and small green shoots with leaves sprouting from the legs of tables and chairs. Looking up, Harry couldn’t see even a hint of ceiling as a thick canopy of leaves obscured it completely, and as he looked closer, the demon thought he could see movement in the treetops.
“Leena’s has that effect,” Timothy said smugly, delighted at Harry’s continued slack-jawed amazement at what the Creature District had to offer. He hoped that showing Harry what he was missing by staying away from the place would help the young demon overcome his fear of Knockturn Alley. He had not commented on it but that didn’t mean he had missed how uncomfortable Harry had been walking through the Dark District.
“Are the plants real?” Harry asked curiously. They certainly looked real, despite the odd shapes many had grown into to form tables and chairs. Then again, Harry had seen magic achieve some rather realistic looking impressions of nature since joining Hogwarts, the most impressive being the ceiling of the Great Hall.
“Mostly. Some of the canopy is just charmed ceiling so you can’t see the brickwork showing through. I think some of the grass is fake too, underneath tables and near the bar, to prevent spills making things too muddy,” Timothy answered tilting his head consideringly. “You’d have to ask Leena for more detail. She created this place from scratch. Before this,” he gestured at the foliage surrounding them, “it was a…er,” the werewolf paused, suddenly remembering that - inheritance aside - Harry was still only thirteen, and he had a very scary dominant who was quite particular about conduct around submissives looking out for him. “Let’s just say it was a strictly adults only establishment, until it was decided that places like that should be moved out of the square.”
“Timothy!” a voice snapped from over by the counter, making Harry jump. “Are you going to stand in everybody’s way nattering all day or were you planning to sit down at some point?”
“Now that you mention it, I think I will stand here all day,” he retorted sticking his tongue out at the woman who had snapped at him. Belying his words, the werewolf did make his way over to a seat by the counter, Harry trailing after him. He chuckled as the woman rolled her eyes at him.
“Harry meet Leena. Leena meet Harry, he’s a huge fan of your work.” Timothy grinned at the exasperated noises the two made.
“You, sit down and be quiet,” Leena said jabbing a finger at the puerile werewolf. Her scowl turned into a smile as she turned to Harry. “Like this big lummox said, I’m Leena. I own the cafe.”
“And rule it with an iron fist,” Timothy muttered, then yelped as he was bitten by what looked suspiciously like a juvenile Venomous Tentacular growing out of the underside of the counter.
“I said quiet, you,” Leena said without looking at the pouting werewolf, then continued talking to an amused Harry. “I don’t know what you did to deserve being stuck with this idiot but I feel sorry for you.”
“He’s not that bad,” Harry said, grinning as Timothy sat up a little straighter, “he just needs a mute button fitting.”
“You’re both evil,” the werewolf declared with a mock huff, crossing his arms over his wide chest and turning his back to them as the other two laughed.
“Here,” Leena said placing a mug of coffee in front of the large man. “A peace offering. Sort of. What kind of drinks do you like, Harry?”
“Um, what do you have?” Harry asked unsurely, at the same time as Timothy questioned suspiciously, “‘Sort of’ peace offering?”
Ignoring the brunette who was eyeing his coffee with distrust, Leena answered Harry. “There isn’t a set menu here. Once I know what kind of drinks you like - coffee, tea, milky, sweet, strong, decaf, unsweetened; that sort of thing - then I make whatever I think would suit your mood whenever you visit. If I make something you don’t like, bring it back and I’ll make you something else and I won’t give you that drink again. My plants never forget a presence so once I know what you like, I’ll always know,” she explained.
Deciding not to mention how creepy the idea of plants always being able to identify him was, Harry smiled. “That’s impressive. I’m not fussy about what I drink. I don’t like strong coffee though,” he said with a grimace, thinking of the drink Dean Thomas was addicted to. “Anything sweet is a safe bet.”
“Sweet and no strong coffee, that’s easy enough,” Leena smiled, jotting something down in a large book she had under the counter.
“Seriously, what did you do to my drink?” Timothy whined, still refusing to touch the coffee he had been given.
“I haven’t done anything to your drink, which you would know if you had spent more time drinking and less time whining. Or if you have used those wolfy senses of yours,” an exasperated Leena said as she started making a drink for Harry.
Timothy didn’t looked convinced. “Why is it only a ‘sort of’ peace offering then?”
“Because I’m filling you full of sugar and caffeine before unleashing you on your unsuspecting packmates. I think that counts as a passive-aggressive attack on your alpha.”
“Oh. Well. That’s ok then,” Timothy said happily, taking a swig of the coffee.
“Here you go, Harry. We’re starting you off with something simple, a vanilla latte. If you like it I’ll make something more adventurous for you next time,” the petite woman said setting a drink down in front of the demon.
“Thanks,” he said reflexively. Most of his attention was focused on the werewolf next to him. In Timothy’s hand the mug looked like a normal sized coffee mug but, as Harry watched him gulp the contents down, he realised that anything that looked normal sized when Timothy held it must be big. “What exactly did you give him?” he asked, turning to look at Leena. “And how much did you give him?”
“Very strong coffee with about three tablespoons of sugar dumped in it,” Leena said with a small, evil looking smile. “And enough of it to give a dragon jitters. If he wasn’t a werewolf I’d worry about him having heart palpitations when he finished it.”
Harry watched in fascinated horror as the werewolf drained the mug. Then Timothy asked for another.
“What did his alpha do to you to deserve this?” Harry asked Leena, sliding his stool away from the werewolf slightly, idly noting that the stool moved easily enough despite its roots. Mercifully the second mug Leena gave Timothy was much smaller.
“I do not like an alpha who allows his wolves to get so out of hand they decide to use my garden as a urinal,” Leena scowled.
Timothy turned bright red, choking on his coffee.
“That was one time! And it was the full moon, and I was really, really drunk!” Timothy protested. “It was mostly Rick’s fault anyway, and I’ve apologised like a hundred times. And believe me, Alpha did not let me get away with it, he took it out on my hide.”
“I am a dryad! That tree you urinated all over was a very special one!” the angry dryad hissed.
Harry’s jaw dropped as he looked between the scowling dryad and blushing werewolf. A giggle escaped him before he could stop it. He clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide as the other two looked at him.
“Sorry!” he squeaked out through his fingers.
Leena scowled at him for a moment before sighing. “It’s fine. I can see how the story is amusing to others, even if I don’t find it funny. That doesn’t mean that you,” she jabbed a finger at Timothy who held his hands up in surrender, “are forgiven.”
This time Harry let himself laugh.
“Be quiet you or I’ll tell everyone you giggled,” Timothy huffed.
“I can’t believe you peed on a dryad,” Harry laughed.
“You’re another one who is never going to let me forget it, aren’t you?” Timothy groaned, his head thudding onto the counter.
As Harry opened his mouth to reply, a soft chime indicated someone had come through the vine covered doorway. This had been happening the entire time they had been here - as Timothy has said, Leena’s was a very popular place - but this time Harry straightened in his seat.
This time the person who had entered was a dominant demon.
Harry could feel the eyes of the dominant on his back as they approached the counter. He glanced at them out of the corner of his eye as they stopped on the other side of Timothy, well out of Harry’s personal space so they could not be accused of forcing their presence on a submissive.
Harry’s first thought was young.
He wasn’t sure how he knew - the dominant looked like any human in their twenties, and age prediction had never been a skill Harry had had before - but he was certain that this dominant was barely a century old. Only just old enough to be looking for a mate at all.
Nothing was said as the dominant waited for his drink then made his way over to a table on the other side of the cafe, avoiding eye-contact with Harry the entire time.
“So,” Timothy said slowly, tracking the movements of the dominant, “what happens now?”
“Well, it’s up to me to make the next move,” Harry said, taking a gulp of his latte.
“Next move?” Timothy parroted, confused. “Doesn’t that require him to have made a move? He hasn’t done anything, has he?”
“I’ll leave you two to it. Just remember, no fighting or fornicating in my cafe - take it outside!” Leena said sternly before moving off down the counter to talk to a goblin sitting further away. Timothy cackled as Harry blushed at the suggestion that he would do anything like that in front of so many people and with a complete stranger!
“Stop smirking,” the demon muttered, elbowing the amused werewolf in the ribs.
“I’m not smirking,” Timothy said, smirk still firmly in place. “And you haven’t explained why you’re making the next move when he,” he jerked his head in the direction of the dominant, “hasn’t done anything.”
“You have no concept of subtly, do you?” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “He came into the cafe while I’m here, that counts as him making a move.”
“Right…No, I still don't get it. How is getting coffee even close to making a move towards attracting a mate?”
“I’m still in the Scouting stage so approaching me directly isn’t allowed, but by coming to the Alley - into the territory where it is well known the doms are - I’m showing my interest without actually Advertising. It’s kind of hard to explain without you having the instincts that we have to guide us,” Harry frowned as he tried to think of a way to explain. “It’s sort of like a compromise between the rules about Scouting and the rules about Advertising; they can approach me indirectly by being more obvious about their interest, even if they can’t instigate anything. By coming into the cafe and making his presence so obvious, he’s making his move and expressing his interest - I can tell he is staring at me - but unless I go and talk to him, or starting talking to someone beneath him in the hierarchy that they must have established by now, this is as much as he can do until I start Advertising. Then they are all free to approach me whenever they like, unless I reject them,” Harry explained to the interested werewolf.
“Huh. Your mating habits have way more rules than ours do. And who the fuck decided to call it ‘Advertising’? That sounds,” he paused, rethinking what he had been about to say when he saw Harry’s raised eyebrow. “I think you’d hex me if I finished that sentence, so let’s just go for tacky. It sounds tacky.”
“Well cheers. If the rumours about how werewolves choose mates are true then you’re hardly the race to be making comments,” Harry snarked. “It’s called Advertising because that’s the nearest translation we have. The true word for it is in the language of Realm demons, they have a special word for it but the nearest translation in English would be something like ‘advertising the readiness to meet dominants and properly begin the Courting process’. That is a bit of a mouthful so ‘Advertising’ is easier, and any demon I mention it to will know what I mean.”
“Why not just use the Realm demon word?”
“Can’t,” Harry shrugged. “I’m not sure why but human vocal chords can’t make the right sounds to form the words for most of the Realm demon language. Earth-born demons have mostly human bodies, so we stick to english - or whatever our native language is.”
“I guess that makes sense. Still, couldn’t you have chosen a better word?” Timothy teased. Harry rolled his eyes and sipped his drink which was going cold but still tasted nice. “So what about the hierarchy thing? Anyone who has been in the District for the last few days has seen at least one fight between demons but what is it actually for? Demons don’t live in large groups so it can’t be like pack hierarchy.”
“From the submissives’ point of view? Not much other than who has the right to approach when. If I’m talking to a weaker dom, a stronger dom can join the conversation, or when I start Advertising - don’t say anything, you - the stronger doms have the right to approach first,” Harry shrugged. “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Some people might only be bothered about having the strongest mate but it seems like a pretty stupid way to choose a life partner to me. Of course, the whole hierarchy thing probably means more to a dominant but you’d have to ask a dom to find out what they get from it,” he said, finishing his drink.
“Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that. I’m not curious enough to risk getting my arse handed to me for prying,” Timothy said, wincing internally as he though of how Shax would react to the knowledge that Timothy had been asking so many questions about how the demon mating process worked. His only saving grace was that Harry had been happy to explain.
“I’m surprised the first dom to make any kind of move is so young,” Harry mused, glancing over his shoulder at said dominant.
“Maybe he’s the sacrificial lamb,” Timothy suggested, being much more obvious about his staring at the dom.
“Stop that,” Harry elbowed the werewolf. “Weren’t you taught that it is rude to stare? Honestly! And what is the ‘sacrificial lamb’ supposed to mean?”
“Well, with werewolves if an alpha is interested in an omega but the omega hasn’t shown any real signs of wanting a mate yet then the weakest beta of the pack is sent to test the waters. If the omega’s pack kick the beta’s arse or the omega gives an outright rejection, the alpha waits; if it all goes well for the beta, the alpha makes their move. Maybe it’s the same situation here,” the werewolf explained with a shrug.
“He’s here to see if he will be beaten up?” Harry questioned dubiously.
“Or rejected. Most likely rejected. No offence, but you don’t exactly look the part for people to expect you to beat him up, but if you aren’t interested in being approached you could reject him.”
“That does make sense, in a cowardly, man-up-and-take-your-own-risks kind of way,” Harry nodded slowly.
“So what are you planning on doing?”
Harry thought about it for a moment.
“Seeing if your theory is correct and messing with whichever dom sent him if it is," he answered eventually. "It would be an unfortunate backfire for them if I only showed interest in their sacrificial lamb, wouldn’t it?”
“So you’re going to lead the subordinate dom on to piss off the stronger dom?” Timothy frowned. That seemed a little cold.
“No, but unless the guy is a complete twit it is going to take more than one conversation to see if he is mate material. I doubt it will take long for the other dom to show up, if there is another dom,” Harry elaborated.
“I thought you said he is too young?”
“I said he is surprisingly young. If he was too young he wouldn’t be here.”
“Ok, so what’s your plan?”
“To talk to him,” Harry said with a shrug. “So I’m afraid I’ll be abandoning you for a while. Will you be here later?”
“Probably. Annoying Leena is a fun hobby. But just in case…Leena?” he called over to the dryad who was talking to someone in a full body cloak at the other end of the bar. She turned to look at them. “If I’m not here later can Harry use your Floo to get back?” he asked.
“Of course. Just Harry, mind. You can walk for all I care,” she said, smiling at Harry and glaring at Timothy.
“There you go, problem solved. If for some reason I’m not around just tell Leena you want to leave,” Timothy said, getting to his feet. “I’ll see if anyone from the pack is here and leave you to it. If you need me just ask Leena to show you where the pack usually sits. She usually makes us sit as far away from the bar as possible. I can’t imagine why,” he finished innocently.
“No, it’s a mystery,” Harry said dryly, also standing. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”
“Good luck. Have fun and remember, no fornicating in the cafe!”
“Timothy! You git!” Harry spluttered at the laughing werwolf, blushing. Muttering under his breath, the demon struggled to get his blush under control. He was not going to let the first impression the dominant had of him be a blushing, stammering mess.
Once his face had returned to its normal colour, he made his way over to the dominant.
“Hi. Er, do you mind if I sit here?” he asked awkwardly as the dominant stared at him. The awkwardness grew as the dominant continued to stare at him as if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “Um…is that a no?” Harry asked to break the awkward silence, cursing internally. Why couldn’t the innate knowledge he had been gifted with by his demon sire come with an inbuilt ‘how to approach a dominant without looking like an idiot’ guide?
Hearing his voice for a second time seemed to snap the dominant back to reality.
“Sorry! Please, sit down,” the dominant said, flushing. “Sorry, that was rude. I didn’t mean to ignore you but I wasn’t expecting you to approach me. And I’m making it worse, aren’t I? Sorry.”
Harry chuckled, suddenly feeling a lot less nervous. “It’s fine. It did take me a while to get around to it.” He suddenly felt oddly like he was on Timothy’s side of the first conversation he had with the werewolf a few days ago.
“I wouldn’t have been surprised if you hadn’t bothered. I’m the youngest and weakest here.”
“So?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. The question seemed to throw the young dominant.
“So everyone is saying I don’t have a chance. That someone barely old enough to take a mate isn’t even going to be considered,” he answered honestly, looking down at Harry’s hands to avoid his gaze.
Harry snorted. “Yeah? Well ‘everyone’ can go hug a fire-crab. I don’t need some up-himself dom telling me what I should be looking for in a mate. You're a candidate if I say you’re a candidate.”
The dominant blinked at the irritated tone, not sure how to respond.
“I’m Harry by the way. I forgot to say that earlier, sorry,” Harry said sheepishly.
“Oh! Yeah, I’m Damian. Damian Rowle,” the dominant said, offering a hand to shake. “My dads would smack me upside the head if they knew what a mess I’m making of this,” he said ruefully, shaking his head. “I’m not making the best first impression, am I?”
“You sound less socially awkward than I did when I met Timothy,” Harry said with a grin. “I’m surprised he didn’t leave to get away from the weird, babbling demon. Don’t tell him I said that, I’d never hear the end of it. He’s bad enough when he’s teasing me about my Scouting.”
“Is Timothy the werewolf you were with at the bar?”
“Yes, he’s part of the local pack. He can be as bad as my dorm-mates at times,” Harry grinned.
“I think I’ve seen him at Fantastic Beasts,” the dominant said nodding. “He’s always looked pretty serious when he’s there. I suppose he would have to be though. It is where all the dominants have been gathering to…you know,” he finished lamely.
Harry frowned, confused. “No, I don’t know,” he said shaking his head slowly. “Where the doms do what?”
“Where we…fight,” Damian hesitated on the last word. Harry raised his eyebrows.
“Ok. Is that a euphemism for something I’m missing or do you have some aversion to the word fight?” he said slowly.
“Well we aren’t supposed to talk about it with submissives. You don’t like violence and we’re meant to avoid subjects that might upset you,” the dominant said defensively.
“Seriously?” Harry asked incredulously. “Where are getting this advice? Please tell me not everyone is going to think stuff like that or else I’m going to get violent.”
“It’s not true then?” the young dominant asked, looking unsure.
“Well I don’t particularly like violence and if it has to happen I prefer it to happen away from me, but I’m not going to faint or burst into tears just because you mentioned a fight,” Harry said. He really hoped this was just because Damian was young and had been given bad information, and not something he should expect from all the dominants he met. He wasn’t kidding about the violence if they were all so overly cautious - he’d happily knock some sense into them. “I go to Hogwarts and I’m in Gryffindor, it’s pretty much guaranteed I’ll get into at least one House rivalry fight. Did you think that in thirteen years I’d never experienced violence in some way?” he asked, still not quite able to believe he was having to explain this.
“I have a sister who’s also a demon and she’s always been kept away from any fighting,” argued Damian, back to being defensive. Harry was just glad that at least the dominant didn’t consider arguing to be too distressing for him.
“Maybe it works like that for Earth-sired demons but I’ve never been coddled to the point that violence is a foreign concept.” Quite the opposite really, but he wasn’t going to tell Damian about his oh-so-loving relatives or his more adventurous school days. It was bad enough Timothy knew anything about them; he didn’t need a dominant who thought the word ‘fight’ would upset him asking questions about them. “Like I said, school isn't exactly violence free, despite the teachers’ best efforts. Plus I play quidditch which is definitely not violence free, especially against Slytherin, cheating gits that they are.”
“But submissives are supposed to be protect. That’s what dominants are for!” the young dominant protested.
“Yeah, but there is ‘protected’ and then there’s ‘wrapped so tightly in cottonwool we can barely breathe’” Harry pointed out. “If we’re never let near anything even remotely like conflict, how are we supposed to be effective heads of households and run a family? A dom and a sub are supposed to support each other, not have the sub always hidden away by the dom.”
“How are we supposed to protect you if we let you get involved in dangerous situations?” Damian asked, looking honestly confused.
“I’m not suggesting you let your submissive go out and fight dragons or something,” Harry very carefully did not think too hard about the basilisk he had killed a few weeks ago, “but trying to keep them away from any violence at all is ridiculous. Honestly, if I was treated like that it would take less than a week before I snapped and smothered you with a pillow. I don’t really want to watch people beat the living daylights out of each other or be involved in any real fights unless I have to, but I also don’t want to be kept away from quidditch or roughhousing with my Housemates - or hexing Draco’s poncey arse when he’s being a prat, which is pretty much always.”
“That doesn’t sound much like what I’ve been told submissives want from a dom. Even the dominants outside my family agree that protecting the submissives is paramount,” Damian sounded less disbelieving than he had previously but he still didn’t seem to be sold on the idea that submissives didn’t need to be treated like glass.
“So it’s better to have a submissive who is isolated and miserable because they never get to experience anything, as long as they are safe?” challenged Harry. Then he sighed. “Honestly, I’m probably not the best person to ask about this stuff. My inheritance happened less than a month ago, so I’m still experiencing instincts I didn’t know I had, and even the innate knowledge from being Realm-sired can only help so much. I don’t fully understand the instincts driving some thought processes and there are huge gaps in my knowledge about Earth-sired demons, and I definitely can’t tell you how every sub feels about everything. Still, instead of relying on preconceived notions given to you by other doms, why don’t you trying asking the submissives what they want? Some might like the whole über-protective thing, but others like me would find it really annoying.”
The young dominant looked rather dazed by the flood of information and advice that was almost the opposite of what he had been taught before. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, subconsciously flattening his fringe down over his forehead, and chuckled weakly.
“You know, this isn’t really how I imagined my first meeting going,” he said, smiling ruefully. “I’d planned on getting to know you, not lecturing you. Sorry.”
“No. No need to apologise. I usually only talk to other doms about this sort of thing. Hearing things from a subs point of view has been…interesting,” the dominant said with a sheepish grin. “Maybe we could start over? I’ll try to be less of an idiot this time.”
Harry nodded and opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a derisive voice drawling, “How have you managed to screw up already, half-pint? Ten minutes alone and you’re already begging for a second chance.”
Harry had been distracted by his conversation with Damian and hand’t noticed the entry of another dominant. He did, however, notice how Damian shrank back and avoided meeting anyone’s eyes, looking embarrassed. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Hierarchy was one thing, but deliberately humiliating a weaker dominant - especially one so young, who had done nothing to deserve it - was unnecessary and did not endear the new dom to Harry.
“Can I help you?” Harry asked shortly, giving the new arrival an unimpressed look.
“If you drop the little kid and join me for a drink I can help you. A big strong dom to keep you satisfied, and I’m plenty big enough for you, babe,” the dom said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Harry snorted. This was more embarrassing to listen to than Lee Jordan’s attempts at flirting with the seventh year quarter-nymph last year, that time the twins had got him drunk.
“How old are you?” Harry asked, unimpressed.
The dominant looked taken aback for a moment, clearly not expecting such a curt response to his offer, but the cocky smirk quickly returned.
“153 years old. Plenty old enough to know how to please you, babe,” he answered, puffing up his chest and winking at Harry. The submissive demon wondered how badly Leena would take it if he hexed the prat in her cafe.
“Clearly not. Fuck off,” Harry said succinctly, turning back to Damian who looked torn between worry and amusement.
“What?” said the still nameless dominant. “You can’t just tell me to fuck off. I’m the stronger dom, I have the right to approach you while you’re talking to a weak little shit like him!” he protested angrily.
“You approached, I’m not interested. Now shoo,” Harry said, not even looking at the older demon.
“You can’t just dismiss me for no reason! We haven’t even had a conversation yet,” insisted the dominant.
Harry growled in frustration. A submissive demon’s growl was not as intimidating as a dominant’s but it did grab the attention of every dominant in hearing range - demon or otherwise. The noise level in the cafe dropped as the dominants broke off conversations, looking for the source of the growl and whatever was bothering the growling submissive.
Harry words carried clearly across the sudden quiet, “We have talked as much as we are going to. You had the right to approach me, you approached me. You have been nothing but crass and rude from the first word. Unsurprisingly, I am beyond not interested. I’ve told you to leave twice. If that was too difficult for you to understand, let me make it perfectly clear: I do not like you, I am not interested in you and unless you have a serious personality change I pity any submissive stupid enough to mate with you. I want you to leave. I do not want want to see you again. Ever. If I have to ask again, I will bring it to the attention of the Council. Is that clear enough for you?” Harry growled.
Halfway through Harry’s rant, silence had descended on the cafe. Fights were not uncommon in the Creature District but it was not often that a submissive was seen tearing into a dominant they were not related or mated too.
Several of the dominants tensed as it became clear that the dominant Harry had dismissed was not planning to leave. Instead he stepped towards the young submissive threateningly.
Harry slid his wand out of his pocket and gave his slowly building demonic magic a mental prod. It wasn’t fully developed yet, still more child’s magic than adult’s, but it was unusually conflict-orientated for a submissive and would give him an advantage if he did end up fighting.
Fortunately someone intervened before a fight broke out. Two someones, in fact.
“Enough! What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“Not in my shop! Get out if you can’t control yourself!”
Harry recognised Leena’s voice but it was the other, angry male voice that stopped the advancing dominant in his tracks.
“You have been asked to leave repeatedly. Leave now, before someone drags you up in front of the Council for indecent behaviour towards a submissive. They will already be hearing about this, don’t make it worse,” the voice growled getting closer.
Harry glanced away from the angry dominant, unsurprised to see that the speaker was another demon dominant. This new dominant seemed older than the other two, and much more confident - the real confidence that comes from tackling the challenges life throws at you, not the cocky bravado of youth. He also wasn’t bad to look at Harry noted, taking in his broad shoulders, strong jaw and what he could see of his toned body. All in all he was quite distracting Harry thought as he dragged his attention back to the angry dominant standing only a few feet away.
The two dominants glared at each other, growling.
“Not. In. My. Shop!” came the angry voice of Leena, this time accompanied by an ominous rustling of plants overhead. Before entering the wizarding world Harry had never really considered plants as dangerous - poisonous maybe, but not inherently dangerous. Then he had encountered Devil’s Snare and the Whomping Willow and his views had changed radically. He wondered how much more dangerous plants controlled by an angry dryad were than the violently reactive Snare and Willow. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
After a long, tense moment, the younger dominant finally began to retreat, watched carefully by the others in the cafe until he disappeared out the door.
A snort and a caustic comment from a goblin over by the door broke the tense silence. Conversations quickly started up again, the brief conflict seemingly forgotten, and Harry noticed Timothy watching him with concern. He smiled to the werewolf to show he was ok and watched as Timothy disappeared back to wherever he had been sitting before the fight.
“Well,” Harry said after a moment, looking between the older dominant who had helped him and Damian who had been watching wide-eyed. “That was fun.” He could have sworn he heard Timothy snorting.
“Are you ok?” the older dominant asked, looking concerned but not coming closer.
“I’m fine,” Harry said, putting his wand back into his pocket. He really needed a better place to keep it, fumbling to grab it out of his pocket whenever there was a confrontation could cause problems if situations like this became a regular occurrence. “I’ve met scarier things than him in the corridors at school.” He wasn’t exaggerating either, he thought, thinking back to Fluffy - he’d take an angry dominant over a Cerberus any day - but the dominants didn’t need to know that.
The dominant didn’t looked convinced but didn’t comment.
“Do you want to sit down?” Harry asked as the dominant made no move to come any closer but also seemed reluctant to leave. “If you ask if I’m sure I’ll throw the sugar bowl at you,” Harry threatened as the dominant opened his mouth to do just that. “Now sit!”
The dominant wisely didn’t argue, taking a seat as Damian warily slid the sugar bowl away from Harry. After his conversation with Harry, and seeing the submissive fully prepared to take on a dominant more than ten times his age, he had no doubt the submissive was not above throwing crockery at people who annoyed him.
“Is searching for a mate always this exciting?” Harry asked once everyone was settled.
“Not usually,” the older dominant answered slowly, not sure what to make of the feisty submissive.
“Just me then,” Harry sighed. “Typical.”
Neither dominant looked sure how to respond.
“I’ve made things awkward, haven’t I? You can talk you know, I don’t bite.”
“I’m trying to avoid being shouted at agin,” Damian joked with a small grin.
“I didn’t shout at you,” Harry protested.
“You did lecture me.”
“Ok, yes, I did, but it was for your own good! You were never going to get a mate thinking like that,” insisted Harry. “Please tell me you don’t believe the same things,” he said to older dominant, who looked amused at the exchange.
“What am I not supposed to believe?”
“Do you talk about fighting in front of submissives?” Harry asked. The dominant looked surprised. Whatever he had been expecting, it was not that.
“I suppose it depends on who I’m with. I wouldn’t talk about it in front of my mother but my sister doesn’t mind as long as I don’t give her any details, and I think my brother’s mate actually enjoys it, but she is a kelpie which might have something to do with it,” he answered after a moment.
“See!” Harry said to Damian. “It’s not just me.”
“Do I want to know?” the older dominant asked, half wary, half amused.
“Probably not,” Harry grinned. “I’m Harry by the way. I should have started with that, sorry. I’m not very good at this. ‘Mione would have hit me with a book by now if she was here,” he rambled. Maybe adding caffeine and sugar to the cocktail of excitement and nerves had been a bad idea. His brain-to-mouth filter seemed to be broken.
At least the dominants looked amused.
“Alexander,” the older dominant introduced himself, then looked expectantly at Damian.
“Oh, I’m Damian,” the young dominant said quickly, feeling a bit overwhelmed. This wasn’t how he had imagined his first interaction with a potential mate would go.
“Would either of you like a drink?” Alexander asked, taking charge as the other two didn’t seem to have a clue where to go from here. He wasn’t entirely happy to be helping out a rival dominant, but he doubted Damian would be much of threat to his chances and unless Harry chose to dismiss the younger dominant there wasn’t much Alexander could do about it.
While Alexander was getting drinks, Harry made a second attempt at getting to know Damian.
“So how old are you?” Harry asked curiously. “I’m not bothered by your age but it is a bit weird knowing you are at least a century old and still be thinking of you as young.”
“I had my 100th birthday six months ago,” Damian said reluctantly. “My mating instincts only really kicked in a month or so ago. My mum didn’t want me to come here, saying it was too soon, but my dads pointed out that I had to make a start at some point and if my instincts say I’m ready then waiting longer isn’t going to do much.”
Harry nodded, not showing his surprise that Damian was so young.
“Do you have a big family, then?” he asked curiously. His only real experiences with family were the Dursleys and the Weasleys, who were at opposite ends of the spectrum in everything from family size to attitude towards others. The idea of family was fascinating to Harry, who had only ever been an observer of other people’s family.
“Not really, it’s pretty average by demon standards. There’s me, my mum, my three dads - two demons and werewolf - my sister who is demon, my younger brother and his twin sister who are both werewolves,” Damian shrugged. “I have a lot of extended family because of my dad’s pack but they aren’t blood related.”
As Damian was talking Alexander returned, levitating a tray in front of him. Handing out the drinks, he hesitated briefly before giving Harry his.
“Timothy emptied half a jar of sugar into your drink,” he admitted at Harry’s inquisitive look. “Leena didn’t seem too angry so I presumed you know him and that it’s ok, but I thought I’d warn you.”
“The sugar is kicking in then,” Harry said with an eye roll, taking the drink. “He’s almost as bad as the twins sometimes. If I grow feathers I’m hexing him.”
“Twins?” Damian questioned, eager to keep the conversation going and getting to know Harry better. “Trouble making siblings?”
“Trouble making, absolutely. They aren’t family though, just friends and housemates. I don’t have any siblings - I do have a cousin, but he doesn’t count,” Harry said, sipping his extremely sweet coffee. “My family isn’t very big. I live with my aunt, uncle and cousin and they are pretty much it.”
“That’s quite unusual for a demon,” Alexander commented. “Most demons have at least three parents, which generally means lots of cousins even if you don’t have lots of siblings.”
“Realm-sired,” Harry reminded them, pointing to himself. “Only need the one demon parent and he doesn’t stick around. For all I know I have thousands of cousins over in the Realm, but I still only have one here on Earth.”
“I’d never really thought about that,” Alexander mused. Realm-sired demons were not common and most Earth-sired demons gave little thought to how the family dynamics, or anything else that they took for granted, would work for a Realm-sired demon. “I guess Realm-sireds don’t usually have demon parents around to explain things to them either?”
Harry shook his head. “Nope. This,” he gestured at the three of them, “is the most interaction I’ve ever had with demons. The only interaction.”
“Does that make things difficult?” Damian frowned. “I mean, there are loads of things that my parents taught me about that I wouldn’t have known otherwise. Was it not weird hitting inheritance age without knowing it was coming?”
“I did know it was coming,” Harry answered simply. “We might not have demon parents to explain things to us but we aren’t completely clueless.”
“Being in Gryffindor must help,” Damian said thoughtfully. “You have that book about demons there.”
“You mean that diary thing? I suppose it’s kind of helpful for knowing what terminology we use for stages of mating and things like that. And as a brief sort of ‘how dominants see the world’ guide. It’s not so helpful for submissives though. Everything is written from a dom’s point of view, and it only covers the basics anyway.”
“Where do you get your information from, then?” Alexander asked. He knew a few Realm-sired demons but he had never really thought about their families or what life was like for them as they grew up. Those kind of topics weren’t discussed between dominants unless they were very close friends, and even then it usually took a good dose of fire-whiskey to get the conversation started. Now that the topic had been brought up he was curious.
“Just because our sires are absent doesn’t mean they left us to fend for ourselves completely,” Harry explained. He frowned as he considered the best way to explain the innate knowledge he, and every other Realm-sired demon had. “You know how when we sense other Creatures we feel it as a sort of warning signal from our magic, like a mental ‘pay attention’ nudge even if we haven’t seen, heard or smelt the Creature yet? We just know they are there and that either we have encountered their race before or not?” he waited for the two to nod. “Well the knowledge works a bit like that. It’s all wrapped up in my magic, waiting for me ask the questions so it can tell me the answers. Except less conscious than that, more like I’ve always known the answer and I’m only just really thinking about it consciously now. So when I wondered why I was different to my relatives I already knew I’m a demon, but that was the first time I really thought about what being a demon meant. It’s a bit like recalling the lyrics to a song you used to know by heart but now don’t sing very often; at first there are gaps when you try to recall the lyrics, but gradually you remember more and more until you realise you still know the whole song. Does that make any sense?”
“A bit,” Alexander said, looking puzzled. “So does that mean you just know everything you need to know, without anyone having to teach you anything?”
Harry shrugged. “Depends on what you mean by need to know. I know all the basics, like what to expect at the different stages of inheritance, how the mating process works and the non-negotiable do’s and don’ts of mating, how to access my magic, stuff like that. There is a lot I’m clueless about though. The knowledge I have is information a submissive Realm-sired demon needs, so I don’t know much about dominants beyond the basics and what was covered in that diary Gryffindor has. I suppose I’m also pretty clueless about Earth-sired demons, you don’t work off instinct as much as I do and that seems to make a bigger difference than I expected. And until I joined Hogwarts I didn’t know anything about other Creatures - I knew they existed because occasionally some people just felt different to normal humans, but I didn’t know what they were or anything.”
“Enough to be able to get by until someone taught you more, then,” Alexander mused.
“How come you don’t know this already?” Harry asked. “You look older than Damian - or that other dom - I would have though you’d know all this.”
“I’m 216,” he answered Harry’s unspoken query. “I may have been around for a while but the only other Realm-sired demons I know are dominants and dominants aren’t usually up for sharing their life stories, or at least not with other dominants. And as you’ve probably found, books on demons are quite hard to come by and of the few that do exist most are about Realm-borns and any information in them should be taken with a pinch of salt. Information about Earth-borns is passed on by word of mouth more than anything and Realm-sired-Earth-borns are pretty rare.”
“I suppose that does make sense. If there was more information to be found Gryffindor would probably have copies of it,” Harry said, swirling his drink in an attempt to dissolve some more of the sugar Timothy had dumped in it. Coffee really wasn’t something you were meant to chew.
“You know,” Harry chuckled after a few moments of silence, “this isn’t how I envisioned my first foray into finding a mate happening. I was expecting the get to know you part to be less like fact swapping.”
“It has been…different,” Alexander agreed with a grin.
“Don’t say it like that!” Harry mocked huffed. “That’s what Madame Pomfrey said about the twin’s idea of a get well gift at the end of my first year.”
“What did they send?” Damian asked, looking amused.
“A toilet seat,” Harry laughed. “I thought Madame Pomfrey was going to kill them. They signed it and everything! Filch was muttering death threats when he came to get it so he could repair the toilet they stole it from.”
“These twins sound like a handful,” Alexander chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.
“Oh they are. They drive our Head of House up the wall. Even Oliver doesn’t have complete control over them and he’s the House Leader. Gemini are tricky that way.”
“Gemini? That’s pretty rare. Explains a lot though,” the elder dominant said, surprised. “They’re still only listening to their parents then? I suppose school age is a bit young for finding a grounder but I don’t envy you lot for having to put up with them.”
“At least being friends with a Gemini pair means I don’t have problems with the half-púca,” Harry groused playfully. “I swear our year got the weirdest combination of races. It’s a miracle we haven’t blown up the Tower yet.”
Whatever response the dominants had was lost as something in Damian’s robes began to chime.
“Shoot! I completely forgot I was supposed to by babysitting for my uncles,” Damian said scrambling to his feet. “It was really nice meeting you, Harry. Hopefully I’ll see you again? Sorry for running off like this but I really need to go. Bye!” The young dom left in a flurry of robes, leaving the other two demons blinking.
“It is starting to get late,” Alexander noted with surprise as he pulled out a pocket watch. “I’m afraid I need to be going too. Do you have a way of getting home or…?”
“I’m fine, I just have a werewolf to track down,” Harry grinned mischievously. “He’s well trained, he should come if I whistle.”
“Oi! I heard that!” shouted Timothy from wherever Leena had exiled him to. Clearly not somewhere out of earshot.
“See? I’ll just follow the shouting to find my escort,” Harry grinned, making Alexander laugh.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” he smiled. “Will we be seeing more of you from now on?” he asked, not quite achieving the causal tone he was striving for.
“Probably,” Harry said as he stood. “It will be fun to torture Timothy by making him sit around and wait, if nothing else. Diagon gets boring after a while so I should be spending more of my time here. Feel free to come and chat if you see me around - there’s only so much werewolf insanity I can take.”
Alexander looked gobsmacked. Being given free rein to approach a submissive who hadn't even started Advertising yet was rare. Getting that permission after a single meeting was almost unheard of.
“Of course,” he said belatedly, realising he was gaping like an idiot. “I’d love to. It’s been interesting talking to you. I guess I’ll see you again at some point,” he caught himself before he started to ramble, saying a quick goodbye and leaving abruptly.
“I think you broke him.”
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to smack Timothy’s chest.
“Stop doing that!” the demon hissed, one hand pressed over his pounding heart.
“I didn’t do anything,” Timothy said innocently. “So what did you say to make him babble like that? ‘Xander usually prides himself on being all calm and collected.”
“I said he could come and talk to me whenever I’m in the District,” Harry said. “I like him.”
“What about the other one?” Timothy asked, shooing Harry towards the back of the cafe, to the table the werewolf had been using.
“He was nice but he was…”
“Young?”
“More like sheltered,” Harry said. “Or maybe naive would be a better word for it.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?” The question didn’t come from Timothy. There was another werewolf sitting at the table Timothy had prodded him over to.
“Harry this is Richard. Rick, Harry,” Timothy introduced. Harry was sure he had met more new people today than he had since his first week in Hogwarts.
“Hi! So you’re the demon Timothy has been pestering for the last few days. You poor soul,” the other werewolf said, offering a hand to shake.
“I can hardly complain. You’re his packmate, you’ve been putting up with him for longer than I have,” Harry grinned as they shook hands.
“I’m feeling bullied,” Timothy pouted. “You two aren’t allowed to be friends if you’re going to bond over picking on me.”
“Can we kidnap him for a night out then? If we aren’t allowed to bond over picking on you we can bond over drinks,” Rick suggested, smirking.
“In the bars you like to go to? Not likely,” Timothy scoffed.
“They aren’t that bad. Harry wants to go, don’t you Harry?” the smaller werewolf said, turing pleading eyes on the demon.
“Er, I’m only thirteen. I doubt I could get in anywhere,” Harry pointed out.
“Hm, didn’t think of that. We’ll have to stick to Knockturn then. They don’t care about age here, just inheritances and whether or not you’ve had yours,” Rick said, determined that they would go somewhere.
“Fine, as long as I choose where we go,” Timothy conceded. “And only if Harry wants to go - you’re not scaring away another friend because you won’t take no for an answer,” he continued firmly before turning to Harry. “So, do you want to go? We’ll be with you and you can call it a night whenever you want.”
Harry thought about it for a moment. He’d never done something like this before and by most people’s standards he was too young to be out clubbing. It wasn’t something he’d really thought about before, but he supposed that he had always expected that the first time he went out to a club it would be with his friends. Timothy was his friend though, and his other friends still had a few years before anywhere would consider them old enough to be in a bar. Going out with the two werewolves would also give him more opportunities to meet dominants - it was unlikely that all the dominants would be regular customers at Leena’s cafe.
“Alright,” he said eventually. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else. He suddenly had a hyperactive werewolf dragging him towards the door and muttering about clothes, leaving a bewildered Timothy blinking after them.
Eventually the larger werewolf’s brain kicked in and he followed the pair out the cafe. “Rick, you mad, clothes obsessed prat! He has clothes,” he said as he caught up to them. At least Harry was looking amused and not worried about the crazy werewolf who had kidnapped him to go clothes shopping.
“Only clothes bought by you. He can’t go out in those, you have no fashion sense!” insisted the smaller werewolf, resolutely dragging Harry along.
“Do I even get a say?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
“No,” said Rick, pulling him through a doorway into a clothing store.
“One outfit, Rick. I mean it. And keep it age appropriate,” Timothy warned, recognising a losing battle but not leaving the subordinate werewolf to do whatever he wanted. He had experience with what happened if Rick was left to his own devices.
“Fine, fine,” Rick said dismissively, still pulling Harry along behind him as he moved further into the shop.
“Can I have my arm back at some point?” asked Harry after they had done a full circuit of the shop, the giddy werewolf dragging him along the entire time.
“Oh, sorry,” Rick said, realeasing his arm with an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to annoy you.”
“You just have a one track mind and completely forget about other people,” Timothy interrupted with a sigh. “Now, are you going to choose something from in here or not? If not, you can go to one other shop. I am not being dragged all over Knockturn as you look for the perfect outfit.”
“Fine! Spoilsport,” Rick huffed, heading back to the clothing racks and leaving a bemused Harry standing next to Timothy.
“Sorry about him,” Timothy sighed. “He can be a bit overenthusiastic for most people’s tastes. We try to get him to tone it down around strangers - not everyone is as tolerant as you are about being dragged off shopping by someone you've literally only just met - but only the Alpha really has any effect, and even he has to actually be with Rick to get him to listen.”
“He’s not as bad as two Housemates I can think of,” Harry shrugged. “At least Rick doesn’t deafen you with ear piercing squeals whenever he finds something exciting.”
“You say that now. See if you still think that after he has used you as his own personal dress-up doll.”
An hour later Harry was beginning to think Timothy was right. Even Lavender Brown’s obsession with makeup wasn’t this bad. He thought he’d tried a lot of clothes on when Timothy had taken him shopping in London, but right now he was sure he had tried on the entire shop twice, in different combinations.
On the bright side, they had finally found an outfit Rick was happy with. Harry privately thought it looked the same as some of the things Timothy had encouraged him to get - a simple shirt and slacks. Wisely he kept those thoughts to himself.
By the time Timothy managed to drag the clothes obsessed werewolf out of the shop, it was getting late. It was still light but the square was less busy than it had been and some shops were being to close for the night while others, that catered to nocturnal customers, were just opening.
“Er, guys?” Harry interrupted the werewolves’ tussling. “If I don’t get back soon someone is probably going to send out a search party.”
“Oh. Yeah. Didn’t think about that,” Timothy said, dropping Rick on the floor from where he had had him in a headlock. “Come on then, let’s get back before we’re accused of feeding you to a hag.”
Harry scoffed playfully, “A hag? That’s the best you could come up with? At least make it interesting, like an acromantula.”
“We live in Britain, there aren’t many acromantula around here in case you hadn’t noticed,” Timothy said dryly as he led the way back to the Dark District. Rick moved to Harry’s other side, the smaller werewolf still dwarfing the demon much to said demon’s chagrin.
“There’s a colony in Scotland. They’re actually kind of friendly, for giant spiders that eat everything that isn’t Hagrid. They let you ask questions and will even answer some of them before they try and eat you. They do still try to eat you though.”
“I’m not sure I want to know,” Timothy said after a pause. Rick just stared at the small demon incredulously. “You know, most kids get a dog, they don’t go looking for giant man-eating pets.”
“I have an owl. Aragog is Hagrid’s, not mine. Or maybe Hagrid is Aragog’s? He seemed possessive of him,” Harry mused, deciding to wind the werewolves up even more. “Anyway, dragons are kind of like dogs, aren’t they? They act kind of the same, just with less furniture chewing and more accidentally setting fire to things.”
The two werewolves stared at him, not sure if he was joking or not. Timothy suspected not, given Harry’s other stories.
With two werewolves flanking Harry and glaring at any wizards who looked their way, the trip through the Dark District was uneventful. The place still made Harry’s skin crawl though. Even having walked through the place with an escort and knowing what to expect didn’t make him feel better about it. Harry was sure Timothy noticed him moving closer as they passed some of the Darker shops, but once again the werewolf made no comment about it.
It was strange being in Diagon Alley so late. Where Knockturn had been shutting down the diurnal shops and opening the nocturnal ones, Diagon was almost completely deserted, with only Gringotts Bank still open. There were only three other people in the Alley; Olivander and Mr. Fortescue were just finishing up closing their shops for the night, and a lone wizard was leaving the bank. The only other signs of life were a shaggy black dog searching for scraps outside the ice cream parlour and the owls swooping in and out of the Owl Emporium as they hunted.
The walk back to the Leaky Cauldron was quicker than usual with no crowd to wade through. Harry greeted Tom at the bar and made his way up to his room with the two werewolves in tow.
Rick was refusing to relinquish the bag that held Harry’s new clothes, insisting that he would hang them up himself. Taking his cues from Timothy’s exasperated eye-roll, Harry decided it wasn’t worth arguing and let the smaller werewolf do as he pleased.
“Is every werewolf I make friends with going to insist on buying me clothes?” Harry asked as he watched Rick rummaging through his trunk, making noises of interest or shaking his head as he picked out each thing. Everything was put back carefully and neatly, but Harry noticed that the clothes Rick didn’t approve of were being placed at the very bottom of his trunk.
“Maybe not clothes - Rick’s got the monopoly on that - but buying things, certainly,” Timothy shrugged, chuckling as Harry groaned. “It’s a werewolf thing. Friends count as honorary pack, and we like being useful and providing things for packmates. Especially for a scrawny thing like you,” he laughed as he dodged Harry’s smack.
“I am not scrawny,” Harry huffed.
“Of course not,” Timothy patted him on the head, yelping when Harry caught him with a stinging hex.
“You deserved it,” Rick said without looking away from the contents of the trunk.
“How would you know?” Timothy scowled, rubbing his side. “You weren’t even looking!”
“You always deserve it,” the smaller werewolf reasoned as he shut and locked the trunk. “Besides, Harry’s too nice to hex you if you didn’t do something to deserve it.”
Timothy pouted.
“It was a stinging hex, you big baby,” Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to kill you.”
“It might.”
“Definitely a Hufflepuff,” Harry muttered, grinning at Timothy’s noise of outrage.
A laughing Rick intervened as Timothy drew his wand to transfigure a pillow into a badger. Timothy allowed the smaller werewolf to pluck his wand out of his hand and shoo him towards the door.
“Out, you,” Rick said, pushing the larger, grumbling werewolf out into the corridor. “Harry we’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll come early to help you get ready,” he promised.
As the hyperactive werewolf disappeared with a wave, Harry wondered what he had let himself in for.
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The Path Less Traveled