Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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

Chapter List
- 49
- 50
- 51
Good News Everybody! StrawberryGirl has internet again, sooner than we expected too. However, we both still have a lot of packing and house moving to do over the next week or so.

Also, don't forget to check out our FanArt competition which is open until the 30th June. Full details on our website.

Please note: We realise that the Lord of the Ring’s reference here isn’t actually in the book; however, the film had not been released in 1996 and therefore Harry wouldn’t have seen it at this point. We just couldn’t resist adding it in, it was too funny not to :-D

Fragmented Soul

Chapter 50 - I'm off to see the wizard

Harry didn’t go into much detail that evening about his conversation with Remus. It wasn’t as though he had learnt anything ground breaking that required the immediate attention of the others. It was all rather personal and it had simply been enough to crawl into bed, with Clayton and Romy on either side of him, the Alpha blanket pulled around them, and sleep.

Clay, too, had not been in much of a mood to talk after his long and annoying detention with Umbridge, and so all three of them had just taken comfort from the presence of their pack siblings. And by the next morning all three of them, while not in particularly great moods, were at least not in bad ones.

“Harry, can you…?” Clayton went to ask, holding out his tie. Both Harry and Romy had attempted to teach him how to tie it himself, but it seemed to be a lost cause. He normally would have asked Romy, mostly because he liked to tease her while she was doing it, but she was currently in the bathroom tying up her hair.

Harry rolled his eyes, but accepted the Gryffindor tie and slung it around Clay’s neck over his already upturned collar. “One day one of us just might strangle you with this thing,” he said as he tied a simple Windsor knot. “Let’s see how quickly you learn to tie this yourself then,” he added with a smirk as he pulled it a little tighter than was strictly necessary.

Clay laughed and reached up, pulling it slightly looser again; this action however, had the side effect of displaying the back of his hand to Harry’s full view. At the look of confusion on his friend’s face, Clay belatedly realised he had completely forgotten to cast a glamour to hide the words that Umbridge’s quill had carved there.

“What the…? What is this, Clay?” Harry demanded to know as he grabbed the hand before Clayton could hide it from him.

“Nothing,” Clay said far too quickly, pulling his hand free from Harry’s. “Don’t worry about it, we have bigger fish to fry,” he added, when his friend looked far from convinced.

“Let me see,” Harry insisted, grabbing at Clay’s hand again. “Fuck, is that… I must behave appro… appropriately?” he read, struggling with Clay’s bad handwriting; it looked like the word had been written over the top of itself several times, and a few of those it had been misspelt. “You did this to yourself?” he asked with complete confusion, wondering why Clay would ever do such a thing.

Clayton was saved from answering though, because Romy returned to the room at that moment as saw what Harry was looking at. “So he finally told you?” she asked, a sad expression on her face. “I really wish he would just tell someone about it, maybe Lupin, given we are on better terms with him now.”

“He didn’t TELL me anything,” Harry said a little angrily, turning to glare at Romy now that he realised that she already knew that this was happening; whatever ‘this’ was. “He accidentally showed me when trying to stop me strangling him with his tie, apparently it wouldn’t have mattered either way because he is already a brain-dead moron.”

“Hey!” Clay said in protest, not appreciating being called a brain dead moron. Harry would usually tease him and call him names but this was not done in a joking way, he had been deadly serious.

“If he isn’t going to tell me what is going on, then how about you do, Romy,” he suggested, turning his attention fully to his pack sister. “Because I find it difficult to believe that Clay would do this to himself.”

“Not willingly,” Romy said with a sigh. “It’s that Umbridge woman, this is what she has been getting him to do in detention. Gives him lines to write with a quill that uses his own blood,” she explained.

Clay looked annoyed that she had told Harry, but Harry looked like he was about to be sick. “That’s horrendous, we have to stop her. You are not going to another one of her detentions ever again,” Harry said stubbornly. “And I’m sorry I called you brain-dead, I didn’t mean it, I was just upset that you were hurt. I still think you were an idiot for trying to hide this from me though.”

“If you hadn’t noticed, Harry, you’ve been a little busy recently,” Clay pointed out, finding it difficult to rein in his frustration. He could handle a little pain, particularly in the name of keeping Harry safe and away from that evil woman.

“So...? That doesn’t mean that I don’t have time for you,” Harry snapped back; he would have dropped everything if he knew that one of his pack siblings was being hurt. “I’m taking it back, you are a brain dead oaf if you think that me being busy means that I don’t have time for you,” he said huffily practically throwing Clay’s own hand back at him, before grabbing his book bag from next to his bed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Clay said, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring stubbornly at his best friend.

“Yes it does,” Harry said with a sigh, turning back to Clay, giving him a sad smile. “You're my brother,” he said fondly, taking a few steps back towards his friend. “This isn’t happening again, you understand, I’ll be going in your place if it does.”

“What? No!!” Clay exclaimed, that was the very last thing he wanted.

“I won’t feel it, Clayton,” Harry pointed out, “it won’t phase me and I’ll just put a glamour on it when we see Fen.” He was supposedly in charge while they were away from the territory and so he certainly wasn’t going to let Clay carry on being hurt, not caring that it was supposed to be Clay that was doing the protecting.

“You promised him no more glamours, Harry!” Romy said in an annoyed voice; she wasn’t about to condone such deceptions from the Alpha, particularly given the fight that they had had over the glamours before.

“No, I promised him no more glamours on my love bites and the mating mark,” Harry said with a devious smile. “It’s all in the wording,” he explained with a chuckle.

“How about we just try to avoid anyone having to sit in detention,” Romy said with a roll of her eyes.

“Because that’s likely to happen,” Clay said sceptically, still glaring at Harry as they made their way out of the room to go down to breakfast. No matter what anyone else said, he would not let Umbridge do anything to Harry, or Romy for that matter.

FGHP

Draco was already at breakfast when the three werewolves took their seats at the Slytherin table. Daphne, Theo, Astoria and Luna were all sat, helping themselves to toast and cereal while engaging in a rather serious discussion about the following weekend, which was a Hogsmeade weekend and something they were all looking forward to.

Harry couldn’t believe that there was only one more week and then he would get to see Fenrir again. He was so wrapped up in the thought of being in his mate’s arms once more, that he completely missed it when an owl dropped a rather official looking letter with the Hogwarts seal in front of him.

“Harry,” Romy said, nudging him to break him out of his day dream. She motioned to the letter on the table when he turned to glare at her, half annoyed that she had prodded him so viciously.

He scowled at it for a moment, wondering who it could possibly be from before glancing up at the head table, where the teachers were sat. He wondered if it was from one of them, but it seemed very strange to send such a formal looking letter when they could have just come and spoken to him in person.

Then it clicked in his mind, Dumbledore. This dramatic, overly formal act seemed right up the headmaster’s alley; Harry was sure it would be him, and as soon as he pulled the letter open and saw the elegant scrawl in emerald green ink, he knew for certain.

“Dumbledore wants to meet me after dinner,” Harry said grumpily to Romy, who was watching him patiently.

“Are you going to reject him politely or with the rudest insult you can think of?” she asked him with fond exasperation.

“I was thinking that maybe it is time that I hear what the old man has to say, actually,” Harry replied, sounding rather surprised by that himself. “Not that I’m going to let him think that I’m agreeing easily or anything,” Harry said with a grin, removing his wand and looking directly at the headmaster as he muttered ‘incendio’, causing the parchment bursting into flames.

“Honestly, did you have to do that?” Romy asked, scowling a little as the parchment crumbled to ash and into the yoghurt she'd been planning on eating.

“I thought you would have had enough of yoghurt after the last time,” Harry said, turning to her and grinning.

“I still like to eat it, Harry,” Romy pointed out with a roll of her eyes, “just not put it in my hair.” She was torn between glad to see him in a good mood despite Dumbledore’s letter and annoyed for his complete lack of consideration about whether someone else might want to have eaten the yoghurt he ruined.

“Yeah, next time don’t leave me out,” Clay grumbled, though he had a small smile on his face. Though he knew really that his exclusion from the food fight had been mostly his own doing and that if he had wanted to join in, then they wouldn’t have stopped him.

“There won’t be a next time,” Romy said with exasperation. It had taken far too long to get the food out of her hair the first time, and not an experience she had any desire to repeat, even if it had been very amusing.

“Want to put that to the test?” Harry asked with a smirk, reaching for the bowl of porridge, remembering how effective it had been last time.

“Not today,” Draco hissed, grabbing Harry’s wrist before he had a chance. Daphne, Pansy and Theo were looking rather relieved that he had intervened before things could spiral out of control as they usually did when it involved Harry, Romy and Clayton.

“What, why?” Harry asked, turning to the blond with an exaggerated pout on his face. Draco had had a good laugh last time, and so he had not expected him to protest.

“All the teachers are here,” Draco pointed out, releasing Harry’s wrist and gesturing to the full head table at the front of the room. “What are you trying to do, cost us the house cup, put yourselves in detention?” he asked.

“Yeah, I thought you were trying to avoid detention,” Romy hissed, glad for being given a good reason to object to the food fight, or at least one that both Harry and Clayton might agree with; she didn’t think ‘you’ll make us late for class’ would have dissuaded either of them.

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, picking back up his fork and dragging a couple more pancakes onto his plate.

Clayton gulped down another swig of his coffee before glaring at Romy teasingly. “Spoil sports,” he added. She was right though, he and Harry really needed to keep themselves out of detention, and Umbridge would have undoubtedly hopped down from the head table to assign them one at the first sign of trouble.

“But there will be a next time,” Harry warned, holding up the jug of syrup, as though in warning, before practically drowning his pancakes, much to Romy’s horror.

“Fine,” Draco said, knowing that Harry was probably right. “Just not now,” he added, glad that he wasn’t going to have to spend the next hour washing Jam from his hair...again, and changing his school robes.

Despite wanting to lighten the mood and have a little bit of fun, Harry found that he was rather grateful for Draco stopping the food fight. Today was going to be a difficult day anyway if he was going to face Dumbledore.

The headmaster was a vile and repulsive liar, Harry would never be able to trust him or anything he said. He was a man that was holding his Dad hostage, painfully and horribly but, Harry had to give the man some credit, he was smart. He had known Harry’s weaknesses and how to exploit them perfectly.

Harry had to admit that he was rather curious as to the reason why the headmaster wanted to control him so badly. This was why, despite the fact that he wanted to have nothing to do with the horrible man, he would still be meeting with him after dinner. Harry hadn’t learnt much since coming here, he had been awakened to the real world and its flaws that was for sure, but he had not found the truth that he was seeking. It was time to find some of the answers that he had come here looking for.

FGHP

Fenrir crouched low by the stream, washing blood from his hands. Callie and Lukas had been at the stream together, fetching water to make tea when it had happened, one of the stray wolves from the neighbouring pack that belonged to Gideon had come into their territory.

He was just one man on his own, probably bored or looking for escape from whatever regime that Gideon was implementing with his band of brutes, however the intruder in their territory had attacked. Lukas had instinctively protected Callie, resulting in a rather serious blow to the head when the stray had thrown a rock at him.

Callie had run back to the clearing and alerted the others. Fenrir had, of course, immediately taken action, Jenson at his side, charging off into the forest to help Lukas before serious or fatal injury was dealt to him. Damon remained behind, comforting Callie and restraining Micha who had wanted to help too. Tessie wrapping her arms around Callie as she cried, more from shock than anything else. It was only afterwards that Tessie had been called forward to see if she knew the identity of the man killed. She hadn't.

His hands clean of blood, Fenrir got to his feet and headed back to the clearing; he would burn the body tomorrow, tonight he needed to see to his pack, make sure that they were alright. They would have to secure the territory and ensure that no one else had stepped across their boundaries.

When he arrived, Tessie was brewing tea; Lukas was sat beside her, giving her gentle instructions, some kind of blue ointment covering the nasty looking cut on his temple. Jenson was sat, his back leaning against one of the logs, Callie curled up in his lap. She had never looked so pale or so fragile before in Fenrir’s memory.

Micha and Damon were sitting side by side, holding hands on the log opposite the Beta wolf, both of them staring into the fire silently. Micha leaning into his mate, head resting against Damon’s shoulder. Everyone was silent apart from Lukas; it seemed that talking about his beloved tea was helping to calm him so no one stopped him.

It wasn't like his pack to be so sullen and it didn't feel right, Fenrir was only glad that his mate and the other two pups were not there. As it was, the stray that had trespassed into his territory had not died quickly, it had been slow and agonising. The Alpha wolf had not enjoyed the kill, not like he had with Harlan. In this death he had taken no pleasure but he had needed information and torture was the only way to make the stray cooperate. The deed was done, Fenrir now knew how many wolves Gideon had gathered and it did not sit comfortably with the Alpha wolf, knowing how many were out there, surrounding him, threatening their home.

It was of little comfort to him that they were in a holding pattern, awaiting orders from Voldemort. This was all the worthless stray had been able to tell him but it was enough. It made Fenrir second guess allowing Harry to leave to go to Hogwarts, it also made him glad that his young mate wasn’t here in the territory when there were so many dangers. For the first time in his life he didn’t know what to do.

“Damon,” Fenrir said; it was not his usual barked demand, it was a request, softer than anyone was used to but it was a sombre moment and the Alpha respected that. Death was still a wasted life, no matter how worthless the person was before they had died.

“Yes, my Alpha,” Damon responded, moving his gaze from the fire to stare at the large, imposing Alpha male, awaiting the instructions that he knew would be coming.

“Walk the boundaries with me,” he said, again it was not an order. Fenrir saw Micha grip at his mate’s hand tightly, clearly not wanting him to go.

The two of them shared a brief, whispered conversation that Fenrir was determined not to eavesdrop on, instead turning to walk towards the forest in the direction that they needed to go. The Alpha turned to look back at his pack only when Damon had caught up with him, seeing that Micha had sunk to the ground, curling up in a ball, his arms wrapped around his knees and staring determinedly into the fire, a sad expression on his face.

FGHP

“We should go with you,” Romy said as they stopped outside the Great Hall; Clayton and Romy were set to head down to the Slytherin dungeons with Draco and the others but Harry, on the other hand, was preparing to go and meet with Dumbledore. He was already half an hour late and he didn’t care; the old man could wait.

“No, I’ll get more out of him alone, trust me,” Harry said. He was going to confront the headmaster once and for all; with all the secrets he was keeping he didn’t want to let something slip that he hadn’t told his pack brother and sister. To be honest he was losing track of who knew what but what he did know was that Fenrir couldn’t know anything.

“Just, please be careful,” Romy pleaded with him, “don’t do anything reckless or stupid.”

“Who do you think I am?” Harry asked with a smile, “Clayton?” His best friend punched him lightly in the arm, grinning. Harry gave Romy a hug and a kiss to the cheek, telling her not to worry so much before bidding farewell to the others and starting up the marble stairs.

Harry only made it to the fifth floor before he came across Ron and Dean, who seemed to be lacking their third wheel this evening. Harry shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes and kept walking, hoping that they would leave him alone, but he wasn’t going to be that lucky.

“Where you going, Potter?” Ron shouted as Harry tried to simply walk away.

“Shove off, Weasley,” Harry said, not bothering to even turn and look at the other two teenagers, who were trying to goad him into a fight.

“You shove off, Potter, you’re not welcome here,” Ron shouted and this time Harry stopped, turning to face them. He was entirely fed up and had other things to deal with than these two idiots.

“Be more original, Weasley,” Harry jeered. “If I wanted my come back I’d lick it off your Dad’s face.” He really wasn’t in the mood for games this evening and Ron wasn’t his favourite person as it was.

“You’ll pay for that one, Potter,” Ron said, removing his wand and aiming it at Harry, Dean who was stood beside his friend did the same.

Rolling his eyes, Harry took out his wand, wanting to scare the two idiots into leaving him alone. He had very little patience for them on a good day and today was not a good day. He ran through his options in his mind as he reflected a tickling charm and a stunning spell from his attackers. He was determined to be more original than that.

“Incarcerous,” Harry said the moment the spells had died on his opponents lips, ropes coming out of nowhere, binding Ron and Dean so that they were unable to use their wands any longer. “Colloshoo,” Harry added, a spell used to stick their feet to the ground. “Duro,” he added as his final fit, the spell causing the ropes around them to go rock solid.

Both Ron and Dean were shouting all kinds of profanities at him now but this only made Harry smirk more, rather pleased with his handy work. Though they wouldn’t be like this long if they kept up all the noise, someone was bound to find them.

“Silencio,” Harry said, firing the spell at each Ron and Dean in turn so that their voices were lost completely, not that this stopped them from trying to shout. Harry was in half a mind to walk away now; however, these two had been bothering him and Clayton since they had started here a month ago, he really didn’t want to let them off easy.

He needed to consider his revenge carefully as he would want to recount the story to Clayton when he saw him after his meeting with Dumbledore, knowing that it would cheer up his best friend considerably. “What to do, what to do,” Harry mused, surveying his victims thoughtfully. “You’re like an annoying little parasite, you know that, one that isn’t dangerous; in fact, your harmless but a constant annoying itch that just gets on everyone’s nerves… that’s it,” Harry said with a huge grin. Readying his wand he fired a spell at each Ron and Dean that would make them unbearably itchy for the next few hours.

Of course, what made it better was that with their arms bound and feet stuck to the floor there would be very little that they could do about it, other than try to rub themselves rather ineffectually against their hardened bonds. Until someone found them they’d be pretty much helpless. “Have fun,” Harry said to them, before turning on his heel and heading for the headmaster's study.

Thankfully the rest of his walk to the office was without incident and he made reasonable time; he was only going to be three quarters of an hour late. He stood before the large gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office, which moved of its own accord and revealed a stairway.

Steeling himself for what was bound to be a difficult evening, he stepped onto the steps and made his way up to the doorway, not bothering to knock before he entered the office. Dumbledore was sat behind his large desk and what made Harry’s rather dramatic entrance even better was that he was not alone. A tiny man in a purple hat was standing before the elderly wizard, their conversation paused at the sudden intrusion.

Harry, not having a care in the world and not faltering once, strode in, not even bothering to close the door behind him, dumped himself into the chair closest to the headmaster’s desk, swinging his legs up and resting his feet on the table top.

“You called,” Harry drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking expectantly at the headmaster.

“You’re late,” Dumbledore said calmly, looking a little shocked to see the teenager so casually lounging in his office. After half an hour had passed he had not expected to see the boy, especially after he had burnt the letter at breakfast.

“A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to,” Harry said, quoting one of his favourite books.

The headmaster, however, did not seem to understand the reference, and looked distinctly unimpressed by the teenager's cavalier attitude. “Mr Diddle and I are having a private conversation, Harry. Would you be so kind as to wait just outside for a moment?” he requested with forced politeness.

“Nope,” Harry said with a grin, leaning forward and grabbing a sherbet lemon from the dish on the headmasters desk. He surveyed it for a moment, giving it a sniff and then cast a simple detection spell that his Dad had taught him. When the sweet didn’t glow pink alerting him to foreign substances he popped it into his mouth.

“Harry, this is my office, I am asking you to step outside for a moment while Mr Diggle and I finish our private conversation,” Dumbledore said, trying very hard to be reasonable, though his patience was being put to the test already, which was never a good sign.

“I walk out that door then, and I won’t be coming back,” Harry said, relaxing in the chair and watching the two older wizards calmly. Inside he was anxious, knowing that he had to stay if he wanted his answers, but he couldn’t let the headmaster think he had the upper hand. “Make your choice old man, you want me here or not?”

“Dedalus,” Dumbledore said, clearly struggling to keep his patience as he turned back to the short man standing in front of his desk. “I am afraid we shall have to postpone this discussion. Perhaps you would speak with Arthur, I am sure he will be able to provide you with a suitable answer.”

“I hardly think that this is over…” the short wizard blustered on, “we need to talk…”

“I agree,” Dumbledore said sternly, permitting no further discussion on the matter as he peered over the top of his glasses. “But for the moment I am asking you to speak with Arthur; we will talk again soon,” he assure Dedalus, who did not look any happier than Dumbledore.

“Oh don’t let me interrupt,” Harry said with a smirk. “By all means carry on as if I weren’t here,” he suggested. It certainly wouldn’t do him any harm if he happened to overhear a few details of this ‘private’ conversation; he might even learn something of use.

“If only that were possible,” Dumbledore said somewhat tiredly, not appreciating Harry’s particular brand of humour.

“I could always leave,” Harry suggested, pointing to the door. “Up to you, Sir.” The word ‘Sir’ was said with such disdain that it took a lot for the headmaster to ignore the tone in which it was spoken.

“Allowing yourself to be dictated to by teenagers now, Albus?” Diggle said through pinched lips, casting a narrow eyed glare at Harry who simply blew a kiss at the strange man, smiling at him.

“He is not just any teenager,” Dumbledore said with a sigh as Dedalus gave Harry a look of utter disdain at the way he was behaving. Albus was cursing Severus more and more with each passing moment; he could hardly believe the cheek of the teenager.

“That remains to be seen,” Diggle said stiffly, clearly not amused or impressed by the supposed saviour of the wizarding world that Dumbledore had so much faith in. They were supposed to having a meeting, the entire Order was to be gathered and Albus would be missing it… again.

“Dedalus, please, we will talk later,” the headmaster said sternly, he would not have this conversation in front of the boy. It was undignified and he would not be showing any vulnerability to this teenager, who very clearly was a lot smarter than he first appeared to be.

“Fine, you had better be right about that boy,” Dedalus said with one final glare at the vivacious teen before turning to leave, decidedly unhappy with how the meeting between them had gone.

“It was so nice meeting you, we must do this again sometime,” Harry said cheerily, even giving Dedalus a little wave as he left. “Have a great evening.”

“I hardly think that was necessary,” Dumbledore said somewhat stiffly as with a wave of his wand he closed the door behind Diggle so that the two of them had some privacy. They would need it for the conversation they were about it have.

“It was entirely necessary,” Harry said with a smirk. “You summoned me here, so I’m here. I can hardly be blamed if you double booked your schedule.”

“I took it as a refusal when you burnt the invitation...” Dumbledore said, unable to keep the irritation from his tone; this young man truly was something else.

“Don’t kid yourself, that was no invitation,” Harry interrupted, refusing to allow Albus to believe that he had been at all reasonable with his requests for them to have this discussion. Harry was here because he wanted something that Dumbledore had, there was nothing else to it.

“Would you have come if you did not wish to be here?” Dumbledore asked, raising an amused eyebrow, studying the teenager with interest. Harry was certainly a conundrum to him that was for sure.

“Of course not, but that does not change the fact that your letter was far more a demand than a request,” Harry said pointedly, glaring right back at the headmaster defiantly. He wasn’t going to show any weakness to this man; Dumbledore already knew his biggest weakness, which was Fenrir, he couldn’t afford to make himself any more vulnerable.

“But you do want to be here,” Albus said, trying very hard not to sound too pleased about that fact.

“I have questions, you have answers,” Harry said with a shrug. He didn’t really want to be there, but it was where he needed to be to get what he wanted. “But for the moment I am far more curious about why YOU want me here,” he went on, watching Dumbledore expectantly.

“There is a lot we have to discuss,” Albus said with a nod. Whether or not Harry wanted to be there was irrelevant when it came down to it; he was there and now they could make progress.

“Yeah, I thought the whole questions and answers thing kinda covered that,” Harry said with a tone of annoyance. “You’re stating the obvious now. Get to the point, I don’t have all night,” he insisted, not in the mood to listen to the ramblings of the headmaster. He wanted to get his answers and then go find Romy and Clay.

“I don’t appreciate the attitude, Harry,” Dumbledore said sternly, his eyes narrowed at the precocious young man.

“And I don’t appreciate you wasting my time,” Harry snapped back, glaring at the headmaster; he still hadn’t removed his feet from Dumbledore’s desk, continuing to lounge back in his armchair comfortably.

Dumbledore sighed. “Perhaps we should get to the point,” he said, getting tired of the attitude Harry was showing him. They were wasting time and Albus had waited long enough to have one on one time with the teenager.

“Brilliant idea, absolute genius,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. Obviously Dumbledore was a man used to being in charge.

“There is a war coming,” the headmaster stated bluntly and found himself rather irritated when Harry simply rolled his eyes.

“No shit, Sherlock,” the teenager said, reaching forward and nabbing a second lemon drop, following the same process that he had before, checking it for foreign substances. The headmaster thought it rather strange the young man be so paranoid about things like that; but then Dumbledore supposed that Harry had been raised by Severus, so he knew he shouldn’t have been that shocked.

“Harry…” Dumbledore had to grit his teeth, he was getting rather tired of the muggle references that he only halfway understood.

“Albus…” Harry returned in the same dulcet tone the headmaster had used, only infuriating Albus further, which, of course, had been the intention.

“I knew Severus for many years,” Dumbledore said with a forced calm, clearly his patience being pushed to its limit. “I do not believe he would have approved of this attitude.”

“Granted,” Harry said with a chuckle, “he would not have tolerated me speaking to him in such a manner.” That was the truth; his Dad had often told him to hold his tongue when he was being particularly cheeky. “That said, I do not believe he would object to me using my razor sharp wit for this particular occasion,” he added, remembering his Dad’s warning in regards to the headmaster, “or even for your benefit in general. He never did speak highly of you.”

“This is not a game, Harry,” Dumbledore snapped, tired of the constant back talk, glaring at where the teenager's feet were still resting up on his desk.

“You were the only one trying to play, Albus,” Harry said pointedly, crossing his arms over his chest. He would have much preferred that they lay their cards on the table and been honest with one another.

“I believe that this is being rather counterproductive, I need you to listen to me,” the headmaster said, regaining his cool and calm façade; he had been so certain that he would not let Harry get to him, but apparently that was easier said than done. “What I have to tell you is of vital importance,” he went on, peering at Harry over the top of his spectacles, leaning forward onto his desk slightly.

“Yawn,” Harry said, miming a very exaggerated yawning action, complete with patting his hand over his mouth.

“You do realise that we are in the middle of a war,” Dumbledore pointed out through clenched teeth, before letting a small smile grace his lips. “A war that you are prophesied to win.”

Harry blinked slowly a couple of times as he took in those words; carefully he sat up, lowering his feet to the floor to meet the headmaster’s gaze with curiosity. “Prophesied?” he asked, thinking that it certainly explained a thing or two, and wanting to know more.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said firmly, glad that things were finally going more how he intended. “A Prophecy was made before you were born that stated a boy born at the end of July...”

“That could mean any number of kids,” Harry interrupted. “Why me?” he demanded to know. He certainly wasn’t going to get involved in this war unless he really had no choice and if they could find someone else who fit Dumbledore’s supposed prophecy then that would work out best for both of them.

So much for things finally going how he intended, Dumbledore thought to himself. It seemed that Harry was not shy about asking questions or speaking his mind; Dumbledore felt that it was rather a shame that Severus had instilled such confidence in the boy, this would have been all far easier if Harry was more the impressionable young man that so many teenagers were. “There were only two,” the headmaster told him with a frown.

“Then go and talk to the other one because I’m not interested in winning any wars,” Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand, leaning back in his chair again.

“The other one was Neville Longbottom,” Dumbledore said with a heavy seriousness to his voice. “A name I believe you are familiar with,” he added, meeting Harry’s eyes as though daring him to make some barbed remark about Neville.

“He’s dead,” Harry said simply. It wasn’t as though he took any joy in boy’s death, a loss of life was always tragic as far as he was concerned, but he had never known the young Gryffindor either; if Dumbledore wanted Harry to mourn him, then he was going to be disappointed. Though, Harry thought, it did explain why Ron and his cronies were so convinced that Harry was there as some kind of replacement for Neville.

“Indeed he is,” Dumbledore confirmed, with what sounded like genuine sadness. Harry was more inclined to believe that it was due to spoiled plans than over the loss of an eleven year old boy. “When you were kidnapped...”

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Harry interrupted angrily.

“Fine; when you disappeared, presumed to be dead. I thought that Neville was the one the prophecy meant,” Dumbledore said, adjusting his terminology as he didn’t want to argue over something as meaningless as their different opinions on what Severus had done.

“But he died,” Harry stated bluntly, there was little to no emotion in his voice as he said this but then he had never known the boy, he was just a name and nothing more.

“Yes, he faced Voldemort when he was eleven years old and failed," the headmaster explained. "Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were his friends and were with him when it happened. The two of them were not the same after that, they drifted apart after the loss of Neville.”

“What about the other one that died?” Harry asked curiously, trying to put together what had happened. “A girl, Ron’s sister,” he clarified, wondering if the headmaster was going to try and justify the death of another eleven year old within his school.

Dumbledore sighed. It was going to be a long and difficult conversation it seemed; however, it was one that he always knew that they would have to have eventually. “Ginny’s death was unfortunate, it was also the death that brought Voldemort back as Tom Riddle,” he explained, though there was very little remorse in his tone.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, confusion evident in his face. He had no idea how the death of an eleven year old girl could bring Voldemort back as Tom Riddle.

“Do you know what a Horcrux is, Harry?” Dumbledore asked, looking at the teenager with his blue eyes, imploring him to tell the truth. Here they were at the very precipice of what the headmaster needed Harry to do and the boy was smart, asking all the right questions.

“No,” Harry answered truthfully. He had never even heard of the term Horcrux before, which meant that his father hadn’t deemed it important enough to learn about; or, alternatively, he considered it to be too dangerous. Judging by the look on Dumbledore’s face, however, Harry was willing to bet that it was the latter.

“Good,” the headmaster said, with an approving nod of his head, “I would be more concerned if you did.”

“What are they?” Harry asked; clearly whatever they were, they were important enough for the headmaster to bring them up. Harry doubted that Dumbledore would waste time by talking about something that wasn’t important.

“A Horcrux, Harry, is an object that contains a part of a person’s soul,” the headmaster explained, noting the appropriate look of concern on Harry’s face. “By creating a Horcrux it allows the individual to remain grounded on this planet even after their body is destroyed and they are meant to be dead and gone,” Dumbledore went on.

“So when Voldemort killed Ginny and came back…” Harry went on, needing for the headmaster to clarify what he was saying. The concept of a Horcrux didn’t seem to be that hard to grasp, but it was the fact that Voldemort had used them to somehow come back that was stumping him momentarily.

“Unfortunately, Ginny Weasley was in possession of one of his many Horcruxes,” Dumbledore told him. “In fact it was his strongest one; it literally drained the life from her, giving it to Voldemort.”

“When you say many…?” Harry asked, cottoning on to the wording the headmaster had used. He was smart enough to know that Albus Dumbledore didn’t do or say anything by accident.

“I believe that he has split his soul into six pieces,” the headmaster said unhappily. This was a lie of course, there were seven but he wasn’t about to go into detail about that with Harry just yet, he had to make sure that the boy could handle it first and currently he wasn’t sure that he could.

“Six!” Harry exclaimed in horror, wondering how on earth they were going to go about not only destroying Voldemort but another five pieces of his soul as well.

“Yes, Voldemort is a man who seeks to be immortal by any means necessary,” the headmaster explained. finding it hard to conceal his glee at the fact that he was actually talking about this with Harry Potter. He had thought that this moment would never come but now his plans were more or less falling into place and he couldn’t have been happier about this than he was. "I am fairly sure he always intended to make seven due to the magical properties of such a number, but was halted in these plans the night that he attacked you."

"So how do we know that he hasn't gone on to make the seventh now, since coming back?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at Dumbledore, sure that there was more to this than the headmaster was saying.

"I suppose we cannot be certain, but it is my belief that he has other aims in mind at the moment," Dumbledore told him sternly.

“So what does all of this have to do with me?” Harry asked hesitantly. He could certainly see why these Horcruxes were a problem, but what wasn’t clear was why they were his problem. He had enough to concern himself with, he didn’t want to get involved in this as well if he could help it.

“The night Voldemort murdered your parents he marked you as his equal,” Dumbledore told him matter-of-factly, ensuring to keep a firm eye on the teen. “The killing curse he fired at you, rebounded and hit him, which is what left you with that scar. You are the only one that can defeat him,” the headmaster said, wanting to make that clear in Harry’s mind.

Harry reached up and ran his fingers over the lightning bolt scar on his forehead that his Dad had never really explained satisfactorily. “But why?” he asked, confused about why Dumbledore couldn’t just take care of Voldemort himself, “I don’t understand.”

“The night that your parents were killed, and Voldemort tried to kill you, something happened,” Dumbledore said, and Harry frowned at the reference to both his parents being dead, but now he was getting some answers he would let it pass for the moment. “Your mother died to save you and that love and protection lives on inside you.”

“Protection?” Harry scoffed disbelievingly, thinking of how Gideon had attacked him, what Blaise had done, all the dangerous situations that had almost killed him; if his mother’s life had given him some form of protection then it hadn’t been worth her life. “Trust me, Dumbledore, it isn’t working,” he said bluntly.

“It protects you against Voldemort, my dear boy,” the headmaster clarified, “not against more minimal threats.” He found himself curious just what dangers the teenager might have had to face, given he had been kept away from the wizarding world so effectively for the majority of his life.

Harry scoffed a little; Gideon and the other strays had hardly been a minimal threat; however, he wasn’t about to go into detail about that. Harry didn’t want to give the headmaster any reason to think that he wasn’t safe with his pack; any doubts on that front would only give the headmaster a reason to remove him from his family, something that Harry would never let happen.

“If he really has marked me as his equal, then why has he left me alone up until now?” Harry questioned; there were a hundred questions running through his mind, however this was the one that made it to the forefront and out through his mouth. It was probably not the most vital of questions that he needed the answer to but it was still something that he needed, wanted to know.

“He thought you dead too, I presume,” Dumbledore said, keeping his voice level and calm as he said that, something which only made Harry angrier.

“So when you summoned me here, against my will might I add, it made him aware that I wasn’t dead!” Harry all but yelled at the headmaster, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands onto the desk. “You made me and my family targets!” he raged. He was beyond furious that this meddling old man had not only destroyed the life that he had with his Dad in Ingleton, kidnapped his father, forced him into this school against his will, but had put him and his family in danger for his own purposes.

“You needed a magical education,” Dumbledore argued back, slightly taken aback by the teenagers sudden and obvious anger. “And you have a responsibility in this war, you are the one who will be able to defeat him!”

“I want to hear this prophecy,” Harry demanded, refusing to sit back down; he was too much on edge to do so now, even if he had wanted to. Every part of his body was pulsing with anger and he needed to vent, very shortly, if the headmaster didn’t start cooperating then he was going to be the target.

“It is in the Ministry of Magic, in the department of Mysteries, I cannot get it. Unfortunately the Ministry has fallen into the hands of Voldemort and I would not be welcomed there,” Dumbledore said, again lying without faltering once. He could easily have fetched it, or rather taken Harry there to get it; in truth, he didn’t even to need to do such a thing, having been the one the prophecy was originally given to and therefore he could have shown him the memory.

“Oh imagine that,” Harry muttered under his breath so that Dumbledore didn’t hear him. “I need proof that you aren’t bullshitting me,” he said, louder this time, glaring at the elderly wizard.

“I cannot get the prophecy, Harry,” Dumbledore stated once more. He wanted to see what the boy was made of, if he had the daring, the nerve and the initiative to go and get it for himself. “Only those whom the prophecy is regarding can retrieve it,” he informed him.

“You are a manipulative old man with a limited moral code,” Harry pointed out, leaning on the desk as he glared at the headmaster. “Why should I trust you?” he asked in a deadly quiet voice.

“I am here to help you,” Dumbledore said calmly, looking at Harry over his spectacles, watching him with fascination. The boy really was something else.

“Then why did you tell me my Dad was dead when really you’re keeping him a prisoner?” Harry asked, infuriated with the headmaster and knowing that it was time to play his trump card. Whatever was going on he was going to find out what he had to do to get his Dad back to him, safe and alive.

“Because your father is dead,” Albus said simply, knowing that he was not lying. James Potter was indeed long dead, though he knew perfectly well that this was not who Harry meant.

“No he isn’t,” Harry snapped rather impatiently, with a sweep of his hand he sent all of the spindly and delicate instruments that had been on the left of the headmaster’s desk, smashing gracelessly to the ground.

A little taken aback but not at all surprised by the rash and violent action that the teenager had done, Dumbledore sighed. “Severus is alive, I admit to that, but your father is dead, he died the same night as your mother, protecting her and you.”

“No, my Dad raised me, he loves me,” Harry said angrily, starting to pace around the office, unable to look at the headmaster. “He taught me amazingly well, you won’t take that from us,” Harry yelled suddenly, turning and pointing at Dumbledore. “I want to see him,” he demanded.

“I don’t think that that will be a good idea,” Dumbledore said with a frown, thinking that perhaps, considering the spell used to contain and control Severus, as well as punish him, it would not be wise for Harry to see him.

“I’ll see him or I’ll have no part in the war, I’ll go back to my pack and you’ll never see or hear from me again,” Harry threatened, ready to destroy the office completely and do exactly as he threatened if the headmaster didn’t give him what he wanted.

“You wouldn’t leave Severus behind,” Dumbledore challenged, wanting to call Harry’s bluff. He could hardly believe that the teenager would walk away from the man who had raised him, a man who he claimed to care about.

“And you're too egocentric to let me walk away,” Harry said dismissively. Dumbledore had already made it clear that he needed Harry and so he was confident that the headmaster would meet his demands.

“I’ll have Greyback arrested,” Dumbledore warned firmly.

“I thought you wanted me to cooperate,” Harry stated coldly. “Threatening me isn’t going to get you what you want, if anything it’ll make me less inclined to do as you ask. If you have Fen arrested I will be left with no choice but to go to Voldemort; I am sure he will help me get my mate back.”

“You would sacrifice the wizarding world for him?” Dumbledore asked, truly shocked that Harry cared about Fenrir Greyback enough to turn his back on the entire wizarding world. It was not something he had expected from the teenager.

“I would,” Harry said without a moment’s hesitation. He wasn’t sure what he would do in truth, but he needed Dumbledore to believe him beyond doubt.

“If I take you to Severus, will you play your part in the war?” Dumbledore asked, fully believing that this was going to be the fastest and surest way to ensure the teenager's cooperation. There was also a rather devious plan forming in his mind, one that was practically foolproof.

“If you can guarantee his safety and his survival then, yes,” Harry said, though he wasn’t quite done with his demands, there were a few other things he needed to make sure were a certainty before he agreed to anything solidly.

“The unbreakable vow then,” Dumbledore suggested, trying to keep the smug smile from his lips. He felt secure in such a thing; he was master of death, after all, no vow would take his life, not even an unbreakable one, not when he had control of all three of the deathly hallows.

“Yes, but I want to see him first, I want to know that he is alive. I want to talk to him. once I know he’s alright then I’ll make the unbreakable vow with you. If my Dad dies though, then you die too, it’s the only way I can assure you’ll keep him alive, if your pathetic life is linked to his,” Harry said, glaring hatefully at the elderly wizard, not trusting him for a moment.

“Your end of the deal is to destroy Voldemort then, whatever the cost,” Dumbledore said with a smile, knowing what the cost would be to Harry. As long as the boy didn’t demand it then he wouldn’t be telling him anything he didn’t need to know until he absolutely needed to know it.

“Whatever the cost,” Harry agreed; he would win this war for Dumbledore if it meant his family, including both the pack and his Dad, were safe. “One more thing, if we’re to go through with this and make the unbreakable vow, my pack, current and future members included are to go unharmed; they are not to be targeted, hunted or hurt in anyway by you or as a result of your orders.”

Dumbledore nodded, slightly impressed by the fact that Harry was ensuring that those in his life would be safe and yet thinking nothing of himself. “You seem to care about them a great deal,” the headmaster mused, staring at the teenager thoughtfully. Harry had a big heart it seemed and was selfless too, which was exactly what Dumbledore wanted him to be.

“They’re my family, of course I do. Now, do we have a deal?” Harry said with irritation, feeling as if he were stating the obvious as he confirmed this for the meddling old man. He loved each and every member of his pack with all his heart and he would do anything for them.

“What would your Alpha think of this I wonder,” Dumbledore mused, wanting to push Harry a little, test his reactions and see what he would do.

“Leave Fenrir out of this, this is between you and me,” Harry snapped, not willing to bring his mate into this in any way. If he could help it, Harry wasn’t going to allow Dumbledore to use Fenrir against him, not as a threat, not as a punishment, anything. He loved Fenrir too much to put him in the firing line, no matter how much Harry knew that the Alpha wolf could take care of himself.

“Win this war and I will have no reason to bring him into this,” the headmaster said, a smile on his lips as he spoke. He was just too happy to contain himself any more, his plan was coming together so nicely, so naturally, that he had a lot to be happy about.

“I already said I would. Now, when can I see my Dad?” Harry demanded, standing up straighter, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the headmaster with as much fierceness as he could manage.

“Tomorrow. But I will not tolerate you bringing your lackeys with you,” Dumbledore warned, believing, and rightly so, that the trip to Grimmauld place would go smoother if it were just him and Harry. He would not be tolerating the other two tagging along as well. Harry was unpredictable enough without Clayton and Romy being added to the mix.

“Romy and Clay?” Harry queried, fairly amused at the term lackeys when describing his pack brother and sister. He wanted to ensure a loophole in this.

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said a little stiffly.

“They won’t be there,” Harry agreed, already knowing that he would not be alone; if Dumbledore didn’t want him bringing Romy and Clayton then he wouldn’t bring them. They would have been his first choice, of course, but it was perhaps better that they weren’t too big a part of this for the time being.

Harry had another person in mind and unless the headmaster specifically said not to bring anyone at all then he was going to make full use of the loop hole Albus had foolishly given him. There was someone else that Harry thought he might be able to trust, simply because Fenrir trusted him enough to bring him into the pack. Remus.

“I will see you promptly after dinner tomorrow; do not be late this time,” Dumbledore warned, meeting Harry’s eyes as he said this.

“Like you’re going to do anything to me if I am,” Harry said smugly as he grabbed his bag, flung it over his shoulder before heading for the door and freedom, fully intending to go and find Romy, Clayton and Draco so that he could talk to them. Not that he knew how he was going to even begin explaining this but he already knew that he would have to give them a slightly edited version anyway.

FGHP

“He should have been back by now,” Clayton said, pacing from one end of the common room to the other. Draco and Theo were occupying themselves with the pool table, trying to put the skills Harry had taught them into practice and trying their best not to pay any attention to the rather irate werewolf.

Romy, Astoria, Daphne and Pansy were sat reading, in rather close quarters, side by side on the three seater sofa. It was perhaps fortunate that Astoria and Romy were so small otherwise they never would have all fit. As it was, their books were scrunched up, close to their faces as there really wasn’t space to have them all.

“Harry is perfectly capable of taking care of himself,” Romy said without looking up from her own book. She had already completed all the assigned reading for the entire year plus next year's reading list too; this book she was reading to get them out of the Slytherin dormitory and into their own classroom. She thought she might have found what they needed to create their indoor wilderness.

“He will probably be back here soon, I think you worry too much,” Astoria added, remaining equally engrossed in the literature in her hands. It was lucky that she was so engrossed because otherwise she might have been a little concerned at the scowl Clayton was directing at her.

“This is Harry, he could probably find trouble if he turned a corner too quickly,” Clay grumbled, wondering, quite seriously, if he should go and look for his best friend, just in case. He was already in trouble with the Alpha, he didn’t want to make it worse.

“True,” Harry said as he stepped into the room, “but I would kick its arse when I did.”

“Harry!” Romy and Clay exclaimed in synchronisation that made Romy scowl and Clayton grin happily for a moment, as they turned to look at where their pack brother had just walked through the door to the common room. Harry, however, looked to be very amused by the pair of them.

Clayton, the moment he laid eyes on Harry, was heading across the room and starting to inspect the submissive male for any injuries. It hadn’t felt right to let him go to speak with Dumbledore alone and he needed to be certain that it hadn’t been a terrible mistake to do so.

“Could you at least act human?” Harry hissed at him, as Astoria, Theo and Pansy watched the rather unusual behaviour with interest. None of them were sure what to make of what Clayton was doing.

“They’ve been best friends a long time,” Romy said with a shrug. “Who could possibly start to explain their strange ways?” she asked rhetorically, with an amused smile as Clayton gave Harry a rather pointed look and carried on the inspection regardless.

As it was, it seemed that Clayton wasn’t able to control his instinct for the moment, and it took almost ten minutes before he was satisfied that there were no injuries and that Harry was, in fact, completely unharmed.

“You done?” Harry asked, finding himself slightly amused after the ten minute inspection. It wasn’t what he was hoping for when he got back but it was still nice to have normality back between the three of them.

“Yeah, fine, I’m done,” Clayton said, realising that there wasn’t a scratch on Harry’s body from his encounter with Dumbledore and that he could finally relax.

“Hey, Prince,” Draco said. “Come and give me a game; Theodore here can’t play to save his life!” Harry laughed at that, Draco was actually getting rather good at pool; the others, however, were still somewhat lacking in their ability.

“Are we playing for pleasure or for money?” Harry asked raising an amused eyebrow at his friend, quite happy with either prospect as it would take his mind off the blizzard of information Dumbledore had just sent his way.

“If I say pleasure are you going to turn it into some morbid sexual thing again?” Draco asked with a frown, remembering the last time that Harry had done that.

“I think I learnt my lesson on that front,” Harry said with a sombre tone as he dumped his book bag on the ground and accepted the cue from Theo, who took up a position next to the table to watch.

“Harry, aren’t we going to…” Romy went to say, thinking that the three of them should talk about what had happened in Harry’s meeting with Dumbledore, though Harry seemed to have other plans.

“Later, Romy,” Harry said, waving her off. He needed a little time to think it all over before he would be ready to share any of what he had learnt with his pack siblings. “Can we not just be teenagers for a while?” he asked her pleadingly.

“Do you understand what they’re talking about?” Astoria whispered to her big sister, looking from Romy, to Harry, to Clayton with confusion.

“No,” Daphne replied somewhat tersely.

“They’re so strange!” Pansy said with disapproval before all three of them turned back to their books, Romy following suit after giving Harry a rather disparaging look.

“Harry’s right,” Clayton said, leaning down over the back of the sofa and kissing Romy on the cheek, which only earned him a growl of annoyance and warning. “Let’s just have some fun.”

“Alternatively Clayton,” Romy hissed, “you could do your homework!”

“But Harry isn’t doing his homework!” Clayton whined, crossing his arms over his shoulders like a spoilt toddler that had been told no.

“I’ve done all mine,” Harry said happily as he motioned for Draco to take the first shot and make the break.

“So have I,” Romy said with another pointed look at Clayton. “If you get it out now and ask me very nicely then I might consider helping you,” she added.

Grumbling, Clayton nodded, heading for the dormitory to grab his bag as he knew better than to refuse help from Romy, knowing he would get it done in half the time with her help. He went to smack Harry around the ear as the submissive male patted him on the head and said, “Good boy,” rather patronisingly, but Harry simply ducked out of the way laughing.

Do take a moment to leave us your thoughts. It would mean a great deal to us and help us get through the next few stressful weeks.

Review responses:

littlepanther - Harry and Clay will likely always find some way to cause some kind of havoc. Remus is considering the matter of joining the pack carefully, if only because he wants to be in Harry's life, but being part of a pack was never something he wanted and still something that scares him. Don't worry, Severus has not been forgotten; it was announced on our facebook pages that chapter 53 will be called "The Fate of Severus", so more is coming on that front. Lukas knows that hid dating a muggle girl will not be welcomed by all of the pack and he wants to avoid having to deal with that conflict for as long as possible; plus, as you kind of pointed out, he would have to explain to Nell and risk losing her over that. Voldemort is doing his taking over the magical world thing, but at the moment this is having very little impact on our characters, but I am sure he will turn his attention back to Harry and the others before too long ;) I would imagine Damon's present would include chocolate and alone time among other things. ^_^
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Fragmented Soul