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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six
Harry slept through that first day in the territory and then right through the night as well. Fenrir found himself jealous of the fact that he was snuggled against Clay, who didn’t move the entire time that Harry slept. However this closeness between the two of them didn’t stretch beyond the moment Harry woke up. He had been in the pack now for four days and he had made no effort to communicate or interact with the others; not even Damon or Clay, who he should have trusted.
Fenrir had already left it longer than he had intended to, in regards to the werewolf he had run into by accident in town. He needed to track him down but he was nervous about leaving Harry.
Clearly the young werewolf had been through a lot but his behaviour was concerning. Clayton, who was supposed to be Harry’s best friend, had been ignored in favour of slinking off into the woodland and brooding alone. Fenrir was glad that the boy at least had enough sense to stay just within sight of the clearing, otherwise he would have been out there dragging his mate back; no matter how much time and space Harry needed to adjust. Whenever Harry returned to the clearing however it was obvious that he had been crying, but when Damon had tried to talk to him about it, Harry had just glared at him in defiance before walking away again without saying a word.
If this behaviour continued for much longer, then Fenrir was going to have to step in; however right now he had other things on his mind and was happy to let Harry come to terms with things on his own, at least for the time being. It was a good sign that he was eating and taking care of himself; it was his attitude that was the problem and the notable fact that he seemed to have no respect for the structure of the pack; which Fenrir found most curious.
Fenrir had to remind himself that even though Harry had been a werewolf since before he was two years old, he had never had any experience with being in a pack. It made Fenrir wonder as to how the young boy had spent the full moons. Damon and Clay had never come across another wolf during their transformations. They would have informed him if they had. Harry had only just discovered the two of them were Werewolves the day they arrived in pack territory. The Alpha had found this hard to believe because Harry should have been able to scent them out for what they were. Damon had had no answers to give him on that front, he just informed his Alpha what he knew the be true.
Resigning himself to the fact that he couldn’t wait another day before going into town, Fenrir decided that he would have to just get it over with and try and retrieve the mysterious werewolf, lest he tried to leave the area completely. If the strange, young wolf had left the area, Fenrir had decided that he wouldn’t bother tracking him. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to leave Harry for longer than was necessary.
The Alpha wolf pulled Damon aside one morning after breakfast was finished; he was eyeing Harry with concern as he leant against the trunk of a tree picking at his bowl of porridge with very little interest in actually eating it. “I need to go into town,” he grunted, not actually looking at his beta. He was still second guessing the decision to leave, when Harry had so recently joined them.
“Will you be gone long?” Damon asked, following Fenrir’s gaze and realising where his Alpha’s thoughts lay.
“No,” Fenrir returned bluntly.
“I’ll make sure he’s safe Alpha,” Damon said, knowing that this was what his Alpha needed to hear. He wasn’t about to take risks with either of his boys, he’d been watching over the two male pups since they had arrived back in their territory; honestly he had been watching them since they were small kids, he wasn’t about to stop now. He was very protective over both of them, just as Callie had said, Daddy Damon.
Fenrir gave a curt in acknowledgement, knowing that he didn’t have anything to worry about. Though the uneasy feeling sitting in his gut wouldn’t leave him regardless. He trusted Damon but his inner wolf didn’t want to leave his mate alone when he clearly didn’t feel safe or happy, it went against every instinct he had in his body.
Damon watched as his Alpha headed off towards the boundary of the territory at a quick pace; he took another glance at Harry to make sure he hadn’t wandered off again, before turning his eyes to his adoptive son. Clay, in comparison to Harry, had adjusted remarkably quickly to pack life; getting along well with Micha, who seemed to be an older version of himself, and even showing a slight interest in Romy who was remarkably resistant to his well-practiced charms.
Jenson had given the flirtatious young man a very harsh look when he had seen Clay try it on with the young girl, not that that had deterred Clay in the least. Clayton had always known that he would end up in the pack, surrounded by others that were like him. Harry, on the other hand, had not. He had grown up with only his father to guide him, his monthly transformations an inconvenience to them rather than a blessing and a joy as they were in the pack. It was no surprise that Harry had reacted in this way, when he had been flung so far from the life he had once known; it wasn’t helping matters that he was also in mourning for sudden death of his father too.
With his reluctance to leave his newly reunited pack and mate, whom he had not yet fully claimed, Fenrir had decided that even though he loathed it, he would apparate from the edge of the territory. If he had had the time then he would have run but it would take him a good hour to literally run to town and he needed to save the time it would take so that he could return to Harry sooner.
It would of course mean that he would have a lot less patience than he had intended when dealing with the new wolf. He had hoped to go after him with a level head, especially after the reaction he’d received the last time, however that was not going to be possible, not with Harry struggling as much as he was. If anything he was infuriated at the strange wolf that had the familial link to him. He should have just come back to the pack the first time he had been asked, rather than running off.
The moment he got past the edge of their territory and the wards that protected them he focused himself, preparing to apparate. This method of transportation never felt right to him. He was a big guy and the feeling of being compressed into a tight, air locked tube, always made him feel uncomfortable. He preferred the freedom of running, it mattered very little to him what form he took when he did it. Whether in human or wolf form he had always loved to run.
Arriving at the edge of town with a crack, Fenrir took a deep breath. He told himself that he was trying to catch the scent of the wolf he was tracking whose smell he had committed to memory, however this was only part of the reason. The magical travel always made him a little unsteady on his feet, especially after not having done it for a while.
If the wolf was still here then he clearly didn’t stray this far out of town as there was no trace of his scent here. Fenrir took off at a brisk pace towards the centre of town where they had first bumped into him with hope that he would get a better sense of where to look from there.
FGHP
Lukas Faris hadn’t felt quite right since he had been so rudely accosted by the large werewolf. He had gone to great lengths to conceal what he was to the outside world, only his parents knew that he was a werewolf. Ever since he had been bitten when he was five years old he had had to shy away from others, fearful of their reactions. Not that he minded this too much, he found that he rather enjoyed his own company and that of fictional characters in the many books he read. It was also how he had discovered his great love of numbers.
Though he did often wonder what it would be like to have friends, even a proper family. His own had never really accepted him fully after he had been bitten. They had learnt to cope with his curse and they’d never turned him away but he knew that he had been treated differently because of it. Almost as if his parents had been afraid of him, of catching the curse he carried if they got too close.
He was content in his life now. He owned his own home, his own vehicle, one he was immensely proud of and he had a steady income with his work as an Arithmancer as well. He didn’t see his parents much but that wasn’t too much of an inconvenience as they had never been close. Of course in his basement he had a safe room where he would lock himself in once a month on the full moon but aside from that he couldn’t complain.
Meeting the other werewolf had startled him. He’d never crossed paths with another of his kind before now. He shied away from the wizarding world, all his work came to him via owl. When he had settled in Brucknell a few months back he hadn’t expected to have any contact with those like him or any other magical folk either. Now however he had a problem and it had kept him up at night, worrying about whether or not the brash and rather rude werewolf would come back and try again.
Lukas sighed tiredly, with a wave of his ten inch, walnut and unicorn hair wand his newly completed paperwork folded itself up and tucked itself into an envelope ready for sending. He was officially finished, though with another stack coming to him this afternoon he was going to use his free time wisely. He had a book he would have liked to finish and then grab a couple of hours sleep before the next owl arrived. He loved his work, it was his passion but there were times such as these where he would have preferred to escape into the world of books and fiction where he didn’t have to think about his own life.
Just as Lukas had settled in his favourite armchair by the fire, mug of freshly brewed tea beside him and book in hand, there came a rather loud and insistent knocking on the front door. He groaned, tempted to ignore it and hope they went away. However after a moment of silence the loud, irritating sound came again and he knew that he wasn’t going to escape that easily.
Putting down his tea and book, he got up to go and investigate the reason his peaceful morning was being so rudely interrupted. Swinging open the front door he immediately tried to close it again, regretting not checking through the peephole to see who it was first.
On his doorstep was a large man, the same man who had confronted him in town almost a week ago, clearly a werewolf and an Alpha one at that. He’d put his foot inside the door to prevent it from being closed on him.
“We need to talk,” the Alpha wolf grunted; Lukas gave him an apprehensive look though he knew that he didn’t stand a chance of getting rid of the other man without first hearing him out. He’d barely stepped to one side before the stranger came inside.
Lukas looked at him in disdain, the other werewolf looked far too large to be in his tiny cottage. Clearly over six foot four, his head brushed the ceiling, his broad shoulders, clad in brown leather, almost didn’t fit through the doorframe. The jacket he wore over a bare chest had certainly seen better days, but then everything about him had that air about it, from his well-worn working boots and faded jeans to his untidy mass of blonde hair that he had tied back out of the way.
“Tea?” Lukas offered automatically, his manors kicking in, though his tone was more that of exasperation than actual politeness. Fenrir looked stunned at the offer and shook his head, an offer for tea had not been what he was expecting upon barging into this man’s home uninvited.
“I want you to join my pack,” Fenrir said bluntly as he was offered a seat on the sofa. Lukas was determined to at least be cordial to this man as he declined him. He watched as the Alpha wolf perched upon the sofa, acting as if his weight alone would crush the old piece of furniture, which it might well have done as it was a few years past its expiration date.
Lukas sat back in his favourite armchair and surveyed the man with interest. He could at least see that he was trying to be more tactful than he had been the last time they had met. However he didn’t even know his name, it was as if pleasantries just weren’t worth his time somehow or he had better things to be doing.
"It’s nice to meet you, my name is Lukas Faris,” he said pointedly, offering out his hand to shake. The Alpha glared at him, his teeth clenched as he struggled to keep a hold on the threads of his limited patience.
“Fenrir Greyback,” he responded gruffly, taking the hand and shaking it roughly.
“I’m honoured you want me to join your pack but I don’t think I’m interested Mr Greyback,” Lukas said as he withdrew his hand and settled himself in his armchair, trying to keep himself confident and poised when he felt neither.
“You were bitten by one that I sired, your place is with us,” Fenrir said and this caught Lukas’ attention. He had said this before, when they had first met but it hadn’t really registered then, not really. He couldn’t be sure that he had heard him right but it had been undeniable this time.
“I don’t know the person who bit me. I was five years old at the time and have no recollection of the incident. Whoever turned me never came back, my parents adjusted and we learnt to cope. I have no interest in joining a pack; I have a home, a job and I am perfectly happy here.”
“Keep the job, the house. Joining the pack won’t change anything other than your loyalty will be to us.”
Lukas looked at Fenrir sceptically. He had heard that a lot of werewolves were being recruited by Deatheaters to join the Dark Lord, it was part of the reason he had fled from London and settled here. He had no desire to join the forces of darkness anytime soon, he knew he wouldn’t have the stomach for it and he had no inclination to follow that path in life.
“Do you as Alpha have another master?” Lukas asked sceptically, not wanting to offend Fenrir by asking outright if he was in league with Tom Riddle who was currently recruiting as many as possible to join his cause before he made his move. The papers had been filled with speculation about his movements and strange disappearances.
At the question Fenrir’s eyes narrowed but he found that he oddly respected him for having the guts it took to ask. “I have been free from him for almost fourteen years and have no intention of allowing him to dictate anything to my pack.”
Lukas nodded, taking in the information that was given. Clearly Fenrir Greyback was a man of few words, something that he found endearing. “How big is your pack?”
“You will bring our numbers to nine,” Fenrir informed him, startled at the ease of the conversation. He had expected more resistance, for the man to run again. Clearly the time between encounters had given him a chance to consider things.
“And if I refuse?”
Fenrir growled at his question, not liking the idea that the man was considering refusing the offer. “I will leave but I include this town as part of my territory, if you remain here then you will be part of the pack.”
Lukas considered this for a moment, “I’ll be able to still work and retain my residence?” Fenrir nodded in annoyance, he had already said that and he didn’t like to repeat himself. “And what about full moons?”
“You will transform with the rest of the pack and spend the full moon with us, that is non-negotiable,” Fenrir said firmly.
“How do you prevent us from hurting humans if you allow us to run free?” Lukas asked with genuine curiosity, he had always locked himself away. The idea of running free, giving in to his animalistic tendencies scared him a little. He had never allowed his wolf to run free or to hunt, too scared that he might hurt someone.
“My pack has never hunted a human during the full moon. I am a good Alpha, I wouldn’t allow for it to happen,” Fenrir growled with some warning, not liking that his competence as the leader of the pack was being challenged. Lukas however seemed to ignore the offended tone and nodded.
“And if I agree to come with you?”
“We will leave now and apparate to our territory. It is not far from here. You will need to meet the rest of the Pack.” Lukas considered this for a moment, thinking of the owl currently winging its way to him with several days’ worth of work contained in its delivery.
“I will be free to come and go as I please, to work and such?”
“It would be better for you to sleep in pack territory, full moons you must spend with us but otherwise yes, I have another wolf who also works, the same rules apply to him.”
Lukas had had no intention of joining with this man. However the prospect of moving again, constantly on the lookout for Deatheaters, it lacked any appeal to it. He could see that Fenrir Greyback could offer him protection from all of that and still allow him some elements of freedom while he maintained his old life.
“If it doesn’t work out …” Lukas began hesitantly, “You’ll let me leave?”
“I do not run a prison camp!” he bit out with hostility in his voice. Lukas could see that he had clearly over-stepped the mark with that question.
“Sorry,” he said and genuinely meant it too. “I’ll come with you; I’ll give it a chance.”
FGHP
Damon had been watching Harry as he had sat by the fire, curled into a ball, having made himself as small as physically possible. His eyes were red rimmed from his tears but it seemed he had even run out of energy to cry now. He just sat, unmoving, staring into the embers of the fire, lost in thought.
Clay had attempted to sit with him an hour before but hadn’t received so much as a nod or any other form of acknowledgement that he had made any effort at all. Damon hated how badly Harry’s withdrawal was affecting his adopted son. Clay loved Micha, whom he had bonded with instantly, but he was not Harry. The two teens had grown up together, causing countless numbers of sleepless nights for Damon, and no doubt for Severus too, with their antics. It was strange to see the two of them being anything less than best friends.
He was distracted by his thoughts when a crack ripped through the air, signalling someone had apparated into the territory. The sharp sound caught everyone’s attention, including Harry. The entire pack was suddenly on their feet in case they were required to defend their territory from the intruder. Harry on the other hand just turned his head to the source of the noise and upon seeing that it was their Alpha, just turned his attention back to the fire, uncaring.
The rest of the pack visibly relaxed at the sight of Fenrir returning, all suddenly curious about the new werewolf that trailed behind him looking a little overwhelmed. Micha was the only one to recognize him of course and again he liked what he saw. Just as he had when he had first encountered him, from his short, curly chestnut hair to his slight build, at least what was considered slight for a werewolf.
Without a word from the Alpha everyone gravitated toward the fire so that they could be introduced. Unlike when Damon, Clayton and Harry had arrived, Fenrir wouldn’t go long without introductions. He had gone out to specifically acquire this wolf for the pack, the other three had arrived unannounced, a whole year before they should have done.
“This is Lukas,” Fenrir said, “He’ll be joining us from now on.” Everyone nodded and then realised that that was all they were going to get from their Alpha as he motioned for Damon to come with him. They would have to make their own introductions individually it would seem but no one considered this to be odd, it was just Fenrir’s way.
Fenrir stalked off toward the far end of the clearing so that he could talk to his Beta privately while remaining in eyesight of the pack. Partly to make sure no one bullied or scared the newest member into leaving straight away but also because he wanted to be able to see Harry.
“He’s been fine,” Damon said before Fenrir could ask, “he doesn’t appear to be crying anymore but he still isn’t talking to anyone.”
“Has anyone tried?” Fenrir asked. He was pleased that his mate no longer cried, he really didn’t feel comfortable dealing with tears as there wasn’t much he could do about them. He liked to be faced with problems he could solve, not ones that made him feel powerless. However, from the look of Harry. he was more like a statue than anything else, withdrawn into himself, tranquil and uncaring almost as if he had just given up and was waiting to shut down.
“Clay did earlier, Harry didn’t even acknowledge him. The only time he moves is to eat. I’m worried about him; he doesn’t appear to be dealing with the loss of his father very well. I don’t think he understands why and, to be honest, neither do I; all we can do is guess.”
“What do you suggest then?” Fenrir asked, he hated to see his mate in so much pain. He had hoped that once Harry joined the pack when he turned sixteen that he would be happy with the new life he was offered, apparently it wasn’t going to be that easy. Perhaps he was going to have to consider the possibility of looking into who the child had been before Severus had taken him. He wanted his mate to have peace of mind, which would mean he would need answers. Also, Fenrir could admit that it would be good to know why Aurors wanted him in the first place.
“I could look into it if you would like. We have some names and some assumptions. I could start there.” Damon suggested and Fenrir considered this for a moment, looking over to where Micha seemed to be shamelessly flirting with Lukas, before nodding and switching his gaze back to Harry, who hadn’t moved, though seemed to be surveying the new pack member with something close to interest.
FGHP
Harry cast a cursory glance over the new man that Fenrir had brought back, wondering how often this happened, the Alpha bringing back new wolves for the pack. He seemed nice enough, though unlike some of the others he appeared less bulky and more serious. It amused Harry slightly to see that Micha was flirting with him, completely unabashed. Romy hung back a little behind Callie, clearly shy of new people, as Jenson went forward confidently to shake his hand. Clayton not far behind him in greeting the newcomer. Harry however was not in the mood to be welcoming and didn’t make any attempt to go and say hello.
Fenrir and Damon returned to the group soon after but neither of them bothered Harry, which he was glad of. He was more than content to just sit and think. He knew that it had been Aurors that they’d found in his home when they’d returned and he couldn’t understand why Ministry of Magic Aurors would want to hurt his dad. Though it had seemed that they were after him rather than his father and that was something else that confused him.
His dad had ensured that they wouldn’t get to him and there must have been a reason for that. He knew nothing of the Dark Lord that had been mentioned in the letter or what it meant that he had murdered his mother. Harry hated not knowing, he hated being stuck here and he hated that he felt so small and useless. He would have given anything to be back in his own bed with everything back to normal but he was realistic enough to know that that wasn’t likely to happen.
One thing was for sure though and that was that Harry wanted to go back to his house. He wanted to get some of his things from there but he knew that he couldn’t go alone. Not if there were Aurors out there after him. He may not have felt much like talking to any of the pack but he was not foolish enough to consider going alone. He might have risked it with Clay by his side but he was still feeling slightly betrayed by his supposed best friend and didn’t want to ask. He would have to bite the bullet and ask Damon, the only other person in the pack that he really knew.
FGHP
It felt like an age since he had been in such a good mood; the past few years had been cause for concern and frequent worry, but not anymore. Dumbledore felt nothing short of relieved that everything was finally looking as though it might work out as he had always planned. Having confirmed that Harry was indeed alive was a great relief; it would have been such a nuisance having to find or train some other weapon to defeat Tom with. However, with his current speculation regarding the diary with which Tom had returned, it was always more probable that Harry was alive, though that was only if his theory was correct.
Finding Harry with Severus, however, was not something he had expected. Dumbledore had wondered occasionally over the years if that was what had happened, but it still surprised him. He had halfway hoped that Severus had been so distraught over the death of his precious Lily that he had died. He had never truly considered that he would steal her child and have, what seemed to be, an attempt at a paternal relationship with the boy. It was most peculiar, though admittedly useful to him.
He smiled a self-satisfied smirk as he dipped his flamboyant quill into his well of emerald green ink and went to lower it to the parchment. The realisation that he wasn’t quite sure how to address the letter gave him pause. Severus had mentioned that the boy went by Harry Prince now, however the headmaster refused to acknowledge that more than absolutely necessary. Best to start as he meant to go on, he decided. ‘Dear Mr Harry Potter,’ he wrote. Prince wasn’t his name and Harry would have to get used to being a Potter again.
He gave himself a moment to revel in the joy of having being able to write that; he was going to bring this boy to heel and it would all work out perfectly, just as he had planned it; on that he was certain. Dumbledore wasn’t sure, though, if Harry even knew that he was a Potter, so he supposed some basic explanations were in order. The gentle scratching of the nib against the parchment was soothing to him as his looping handwriting told Harry of his birth name. He made a point not to include many details, of course; it wouldn’t do to shatter the boy’s belief in Severus as his father just when that could be used to their advantage.
It had been ten days since the first day of the new school year, when the order had broken into the house in Ingleton. Dumbledore was so pleased with how well the spell was holding on Severus; not bad for the first time it had truly be used. He was admittedly curious as to how long Severus’ sanity would hold out. Not that it was of much consequence; Harry would surely still want to save his previous ‘father’ regardless of his mental state. Dumbledore was still hopeful it wouldn’t come to that and that the boy would agree to attend of his own free will, which would make the whole thing a good deal more pleasant. Not that it mattered either way, if Harry wouldn’t cooperate then Albus didn’t have any qualms about forcing the boys hand.
Turning his attention back to the letter once more he continued to write, forming his words with precise care and attention.
‘Due to the lack of a formal tutor I have been informed by the Ministry of Magic that you currently require a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so as to complete your magical education. It is therefore with great pleasure that I, as Headmaster of this fine institution, have agreed to grant you a place, starting on the 3rd January 1996, where you will start in your fifth year.’
He was, of course, doing it out of the kindness of his heart, he thought sarcastically with a little chuckle to himself at his joke. When this was over the wizarding world would see Albus Dumbledore as a hero, a great man. He hated that his fall from grace had been caused by the death of two eleven year olds, one of whom he thought might have taken Harry’s place. He was a great wizard and deserved to be recognized as such. He would have that again and Harry would be the one to get it for him.
Oh how he loved it when people recognised their place in the world; he was happy to be back in control, his little pawns doing as he instructed them. He thought of Remus obediently watching the Prince house in Ingleton, just in case Harry chose to return; he thought of Tonks and Moody traipsing all over the country attempting to get an approximate location on wherever the unknown man that had attacked them had taken Harry. It was of little consequence really, but should Harry be foolish enough to deny him, or to try to vanish again, it would never hurt to have such information. Besides, he was simply curious.
Dumbledore added a large swirling and curling signature to the bottom of the letter and found a copy of the usual ‘required equipment’ list for fifth years. It was best to show assumption that Harry would attend and not let the boy believe that refusal was an option. Folding the two pieces of parchment together he slipped them into an envelope and sealed it closed with the Hogwarts seal. He had no address so simply scrawled ‘Harry Potter’ on the front; he paused but then added ‘/Prince’. It would hardly help anyone if the boy didn’t even open the letter at all.
He had already decided that he would take the letter and leave it in Harry’s old bedroom. It would be worth checking up on Remus as well anyway; that man had a penchant for thinking far too independently for Dumbledore’s liking. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long, he had other places to be; he had a new possible location he wanted to visit before the day was out. (too cryptic?)
He got to his feet, and took the letter in his hand, as he made his way across his office, letting his fingers trail over the long yew and phoenix feather wand that was kept in a little specially made stand on his desk. Of course, no one knew the true significance of it; it was largely dismissed as one of Albus Dumbledore’s many eccentricities, but in truth it had belonged to one Tom Riddle. Dumbledore had always found it a comfort to keep it close to hand. It was the only way he could be sure it wasn’t being used to commit terrible atrocities; though apparently the monster had unsurprisingly found another, given the trouble he had been causing since his return.
He was glad that he had thought to connect house in Ingleton to the floo network, it really did make it far more convenient. Not dawdling any further, Dumbledore through floo powder into his personal fireplace and stepped through into the former home of Severus and Harry Prince.
FGHP
Harry had been in pack territory for a grand total of twelve miserable days. He had so far slept more than he should have done, eaten far less and spoken to no one. Today however he was going to get it over with; he was going to talk to Damon. He desperately wanted to go home; he wanted to see the house he had happily grown up in, with his father, it felt like he needed the proof that it had been real when he was now faced with the completely different life as part of a pack. He knew he wouldn’t be able stay there but he wanted to collect some of his more personal belongings. He was missing his dad and he needed to go back there to come to terms with what had happened; what had happened to both of them. More than anything he wanted a photo of him and his dad together, happy and smiling.
He took his chance when Damon was coming back from the stream after washing. He was alone and that was just how Harry wanted him. “Can I talk to you?” he asked with determination. Damon looked startled at being accosted so early in the morning. He hadn’t heard Harry speak since they had arrived there. Silently he nodded, dumping his stuff on the ground and motioning for Harry to follow him, figuring that the teenager would want some privacy; he could have asked Harry to wait but he didn’t want to discourage this breakthrough.
“What did you want talk about?” Damon asked with concern. He kept his voice soft and gentle, aware that the poor child was probably still struggling to cope with things.
“I want to go home,” Harry began.
“Harry….” Damon said in a comforting tone of sympathy; he hated that the first thing the young werewolf asked him for would have to be denied but Harry had to accept that this was his life now; there was no going back.
“I want to get some of my clothes, photos … please,” Harry went on. Even though this was the main motive for going there was something else too, something that he wouldn’t admit to. Severus had been brewing and giving him a heightened version of the wolfsbane potion every day of his life and since arriving here he had been failing to take it. He needed to go home and collect the store of it that his Dad had kept. If it would get him through to the next full moon then he would be grateful but then he would have to brew more; luckily though his dad had taught him how and he was more than competent in the art of potion making. He was the son of a potions master after all.
“I’m sorry, Harry …” Damon said and he genuinely sounded sympathetic. “It isn’t up to me.”
“Damon, please …” His wide emerald eyes were pleading.
“It isn’t my decision to make, little one, you’ll have to ask Fenrir.” Harry looked at him as if he had suggested he walk across broken glass or inject himself with silver. He didn’t want to talk to Fenrir and he certainly didn’t want to take the Alpha back to his home. In that moment he almost made the decision to go alone, Aurors be damned. However he knew he couldn’t be that reckless, not when his dad had died to keep him alive.
Turning on his heel in a grump he stormed off, Damon sighing in exasperation, shaking his head. At least Harry was talking again, that was a bonus. Whether or not he would actually go and talk to Fenrir was another matter entirely but it was certainly an improvement.
Harry threw himself down at the base of what was swiftly becoming his favourite tree, feeling entirely grumpy and kicking at the dirt beneath his feet. He was still wearing Clay’s shoes and clothes, not having any of his own which did nothing to improve his mood. It was like his whole identity was being deny to him and he wanted his own stuff. It infuriated him that Damon, a man who had been so important to him for so many years, was unwilling to help him.
“You okay?” a voice asked and harry’s head snapped up to see the newest member of the pack approaching him, two steaming mugs in his hand. Harry gave him an odd look; they hadn’t spoken a single word to each other since the other werewolf had arrived a week earlier. Harry shrugged in response; he wasn’t okay, not close to it, but it wasn’t like there was anything anyone, let alone this complete stranger, could do to help.
“Everyone’s worried about you,” Lukas told him as he handed Harry a cup of tea which was accepted gratefully and sat down beside him.
“Good for them,” Harry replied moodily glaring into his mug, and he felt a twinge of malicious pleasure at that; after all it was them who had brought him to this place against his will, even if he didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“You know, I didn’t want to be here either,” Lukas informed him, taking a sip of his drink as he gave Harry a moment to process this. “When Fenrir first approached me about being in a pack, it was honestly the last thing I wanted.”
“Then why are you here?” Harry asked, nursing his mug between his cold fingers, allowing the boiling liquid to warm them before taking a tentative sip; he wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but he did appreciate the gesture. Besides it meant he had something to focus on other than the person standing next to him.
“The world isn’t as nice as it used to be and it’s safer here than living on my own. Besides I was bitten by a man that was sired by Fenrir; apparently I belong here,” Lukas said as he shrugged his shoulders. He still felt doubts about some aspects of being part of the pack but for now, at least, the benefits outweighed the cons.
Harry snorted in amusement; it was not a sentiment that he could relate to because belonging there was definitely not something that he felt right now. He felt awkward and out of place, there was no feeling of belonging. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to feel that, but he supposed that if he was going to have to stay with the pack long term, then it would, at least, help make it easier to cope with.
“Come on, drink up,” Lukas encouraged.
Harry glanced at him, not really sure what to make of him, but he sipped at the tea, as instructed, anyway. Admittedly the other werewolf could make a good cup of tea and he drank a little more before Lukas was apparently appeased and went on.
“He isn’t a bad guy you know,” Lukas said, “he’s a bit intimidating at first but he isn’t that bad.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Harry admitted, as he thought back. “He hasn’t spoken to me at all since I got here. Just looked at me a lot.”
Lukas couldn’t help but laugh, he had gathered from some of the others exactly why Fenrir looked at Harry as much as he did. It was clear however that Harry had no clue and he was not going to be the one to enlighten him. “Damon’s been telling me you’re an excellent student, how’s your Arithmancy?”
Harry shrugged his shoulders, “Okay I guess, it isn’t my favourite subject but my Dad taught me. He said it would be useful for me to know it. He got me up to N.E.W.T level last year.”
“That’s impressive that you’re at N.E.W.T level already, how old are you?”
“Fifteen,” Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders.
“And your dad taught you at home?” Lukas asked kindly.
“Yeah, he didn’t want me to go away to school, he was worried about the full moons so he decided to teach me at home.” Harry explained, his mind going back over the hours they had spent studying together, “He was great,” Harry added a fond smile on his lips. For a moment he thought he was going to cry, but he distracted himself with another sip of tea.
“You and your dad were close then?”
“Yeah, we were,” Harry said sadly, “He died right before I came here.”
“I’m sorry, he sounds as if he was a great man.”
“He was,” And then after a moment of deliberation he added, “I miss him.” It was more open and honest than he had been with anyone. Opening up to Lukas however seemed easier than talking to anyone else. Perhaps it was because he didn’t really know him, which made it less intense, but whatever the reason Harry felt a little better for admitting it.
“Do you have a picture of him?” Lukas asked him and watched sadly as Harry shook his head.
“I want to go and get one, as well as a few other things, but Damon says I have to ask Fenrir. I haven’t got anything of my own here,” Harry grumbled unhappily.
“I’m sure Fenrir won’t mind going with you if it means that much to you,” Lukas said with a wry smile. He didn’t have a mate but he had read enough about werewolves to know that once they found their mate they would do anything to keep them content and happy, and they would never leave them either. Lukas found it hilarious that the Alpha hadn’t even come to talk to the teenager yet, but that was not his business and he wasn’t about to get involved in their relationship or lack thereof. “He really isn’t a bad guy you know, you should talk to him.”
Harry looked to Lukas, reevaluating the thoughts he had had on the man after first seeing him. He had thought that he looked serious and a little unhappy but now he saw that the man had a kind heart. “I will,” Harry said giving Lukas a weak smile which was returned in kind before the older of the two climbed to his feet. “Oh and thank you for the tea,” Harry added quickly.
Lukas grinned, “No problem, little one.”
FGHP
Fenrir had watched with curiosity as Lukas had managed to entice Harry into a conversation with something as simple as a cup of tea. As soon as he had realised that his mate had spoken to Damon he had summoned his Beta too him and asked what it had been regarding. Harry had still not spoken to him or vice versa.
“I told him to talk to you,” Damon said, “But he wants to go home and collect a few things.”
“Understandable,” Fenrir grunted.
“Indeed,” Damon said, “Though perhaps not a good idea, Aurors will no doubt be watching the house and you are a wanted man.”
“I’m aware,” Fenrir snapped, “If he asks me I’ll take him, I wouldn’t ask anyone else to take that risk.” Damon nodded his understanding. It would be dangerous to return there regardless of the reason behind it. He was also aware that the Alpha would not allow his mate to go into such a perilous situation without being by his side to protect him. “Have you found anything out about the Aurors yet and what they want with him?”
“I managed to find a photograph from the Daily Prophet, it was attached to the article regarding the attack on the Potter’s. I thought you might want to see it.” Damon withdrew the picture of a smiling young couple holding a little baby. It was unmistakable, the baby was Harry. Even if Fenrir hadn’t recognized him, the man in the picture was the spitting image of the boy Harry had grown to be, there was no doubt that these were his parents.
“It’s him,” Fenrir said, studying the photograph.
“Yes, I don’t know what they want with him yet but it is him they want.”
FGHP
He had been back at Hogwarts for a grand total of thirteen days and so far he hadn’t been hugely successful in achieving anything. Dolores Umbridge was a pain in the arse and the Carrows … well Draco couldn’t say what they were without resorting to language his mother would have frowned upon. With the headmaster seemingly absent or else held up in his office things at the school were starting to get out of hand.
Umbridge had rather unique ideas about the way in which things ought to be done. She liked things to be neat and tidy, black and white. Anything that didn’t fit in her neat little boxes was deemed highly dangerous and in need of elimination. Draco had heard a fair few students complaining of a rather unique quill that she had for them to use during her detentions. He was hoping that he never got first-hand experience of it, but given he had every intention to keep his head down and do nothing other than get on with his school work and the mission from Voldemort, he wasn’t too concerned.
The Carrow siblings were not much better. Draco had seen them at Deatheater meetings and he knew all too well just how sadistic they could be, but thankfully they hadn’t resorted to using any unforgivables or dark magic. At least not yet, but Draco was painfully aware it had only been a couple of weeks and he suspected that it was primarily only because Albus Dumbledore was still in charge, despite his absence. The majority of the students and staff remained loyal to their headmaster and so he still has a great number of informants throughout the school; Draco was in no doubt that he was being kept informed.
High Inquisitor Umbridge was liberally introducing new rules and regulations, apparently with full approval and backing from the Ministry of Magic; which Draco took as confirmation that the Dark Lord’s hand was at play in her manipulations. The changing regime had made it more or less impossible to sneak off and look for the Room of Requirement where his mother had said that he would find it.
He finally got the opportunity while everyone else was at dinner, two weeks after the start of term. He had watched, concealed by a suit of armour, as all three of Hogwart’s tyrants, the people he wanted to avoid, entered the Great Hall. Knowing that they would be occupied for a while he raced up the marble staircase.
Draco had been so blind in his haste that he hadn’t been watching where he was going and literally had into the last group of people that he had wanted to see at that moment. Ron Weasley, the leader of the Gryffindor group, backed up by Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Hermione Granger also flanked them as the only girl. Draco had collided with Ron and with enough force that they both went flying.
“Watch where you’re going, Malfoy!” Ron hissed in annoyance as they both picked themselves up off the floor, Draco dusting himself off, all too aware that he didn’t have much time before someone realised that he wasn’t where he was meant to be.
“Sod off, Weasley!” Draco snapped back. He was itching to draw his wand but he had very little time for a duel and his patience was already frayed past breaking point. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene and get himself thrown in detention and he reminded himself that he was supposed to be keeping his head down. He needed to leave before the Gryffindor’s took the matter out of his hands and attacked first, however he knew better than to turn his back on an enemy.
“Leave him Ron,” Hermione said gently in his ear, “he isn’t worth it.”
“Listen to your girlfriend, Weasley,” Draco sneered, unable to resist. “Least she has some sense.”
Dean and Seamus had brought out their wands in their friend’s defence but, with Hermione’s hand on his arm, Ron had not. The redhead was fuming, his cheeks matching his hair but his mudblood girlfriend was trying to drag him away and Draco knew that wherever Weasley went Thomas and Finnegan would follow, like the good little minions they were. It was fortunate this evening that they had been able to part ways without resorting to dueling. Draco didn’t enjoy it, he would rather have just ignored the lot of them. He had no interest in them at all, but he would never allow them to think he was weak for that would only encourage them to harass him further.
Waiting long enough for the Gryffindor’s to go on their way and forget about him before he resumed racing up to the seventh floor. The corridors were thankfully quiet and he followed the instructions his mother had given him and soon he had located the tapestry she had described. It depicted Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls how to dance the ballet. It was a fairly unique thing and not easily forgotten.
However the problem was there didn’t appear to be a door where Narcissa had said there would be. Feeling like a right prat he remembered her strict instructions and began to pace back and forward along the length of the corridor, thinking about needing somewhere to hide something. He hadn’t realised his own scepticism until, on the third pass, a door appeared. It was alike to every other door in the castle but trusting his mother he went inside.
He stopped and stared in wonder at the sight that met his eyes when he entered the room. He couldn’t believe that he had never known about this room before now when he had been attending the school since he was eleven years old. It was huge! And a little overwhelming if he was honest with himself. How he was meant to find a single cabinet was beyond him. There were mountains of broken and damaged furniture, thousands upon thousands of books piled, so high he couldn’t see the top, haphazardly all over the place and so many odds and ends that he wasn’t quite sure what to look at. He was there for a reason though, so he focused on making his way into the depths of the room; taking great care, as he dodged around the stacks that were everywhere, not to knock anything over .
There were shelves of congealed potions, piles of abandoned cloaks, a heavily blood stained axe propped against a suit of armour that he didn’t like to go near, old hats, several rusting swords and more than a few fanged frisbees too. He was particularly taken by a beautiful, though slightly tarnished tiara that was sat upon the bust of an ugly old warlock which sat on top of the cabinet which he had been looking for. There was no mistaking that this was what he needed, it was identical to the one in the room that would be his brother’s nursery. This was what he had been looking for.
With his baby brother due to be born in a little less than a month he would have to work quickly. Finding the damn thing had been the easy part, he knew that, and now all he had to do was figure out what was wrong with it and mend it. How hard could it possibly be?
FGHP
The day after his talk over tea with Lukas, and after a great deal of deliberating, Harry gathered up every ounce of courage he had and went to talk to Fenrir. This was the first time the two of them were going to talk. To say that he was nervous was an understatement. He couldn’t deny that he had cast a few interested glances whenever the Alpha wolf was around and he couldn’t help but admire the brief glimpses of bare chest that were offered frequently, but Lukas was right, he was intimidating.
Fenrir was manually chopping logs for the fire, which Harry couldn’t understand, it ought to be easier to use magic he was sure Not that he minded the sight of the Alpha wolf completely naked from the waist up and glistening with sweat from the effort of chopping the fire wood. It was a sight that made something stir in Harry’s nether regions. Though he dreaded to think what the Alpha would think if he knew that those thoughts were going through his head. He could probably be kicked out of the pack for it and he couldn’t risk that because he had nowhere else to go.
“Can we … I need to talk to you,” Harry said after he took a deep steadying breath but still struggling to get the words out right. Fenrir seemed to have that effect on him and he didn’t like it. Fenrir looked up and seemed more than a little surprised to see Harry stood before him, actually talking.
Fenrir said nothing, giving only a curt nod as he brought the axe he carried down onto the tree stump and left it there. Harry’s heart was racing as he watched the older man do this, the muscles in his arms rippling with the effort of it and to Harry the sight was nothing short of mesmerising. “Over here,” Fenrir said, motioning for Harry to follow him. Unfortunately for Harry however the Alpha made no move to cover himself up as they headed off to find a more private place to talk.
“I… I want to go home… Damon said that I should ask you… it’s just to get some stuff, please… it would mean... I really want… please.” Fenrir watched Harry with interest as he stumbled over his words, struggling to get them out. He couldn’t figure out why the boy was so nervous, he didn’t want Harry to feel nervous around him.
Harry was trying to look anywhere but at the well-defined torso, the dustings of light blonde hair, light pink nipples that were erect in the chilly September weather and beads of sweat trailed down his abdomen making Harry want to fall to his knees and lick it off. He had seen Clay shirtless before, his Dad and Damon too but they were his family… they also had nothing on Fenrir.
“You want to go home,” Fenrir clarified and Harry nodded. “And you’re asking permission?” Again Harry nodded. “Damon said you didn’t do that a lot. I’m honoured.” Harry scowled at this, wondering what else Fenrir had been told about him. He could feel the beautiful golden eyes watching him as he studied the ground. All Fenrir had done was look at him since Harry had arrived in pack territory and it was beginning to feel a little creepy. Harry couldn’t understand what the Alpha was looking at, sure he was a little shorter and less bulky than some of the others but he didn’t think he looked odd or anything.
“Please,” Harry said looking up and meeting Fenrir’s gaze with determination. He knew that it had been a bad idea to ask, the Alpha was going to say no, that it was just too dangerous because of the Aurors hanging around. It had been a bad idea to even ask and he was going to make sure he stayed grumpy at Damon longer for even suggesting that he speak to Fenrir.
“Alright,” The Alpha said taking Harry by surprise. “But we’ll go in a few days, you stay within my line of sight at all times and, if there is any sign of trouble, we’ll leave whether you have everything you need or not. Understand?” Harry nodded quickly, stunned at the easy acceptance and not caring about the terms that came with it. He could accept those terms if it meant he could collect some photographs and more importantly his potions.
FGHP
Sirius’ patience was wearing very thin as September rambled on and he remained stuck in his old family home, a place he despised. Admittedly having the slimy git imprisoned and at his mercy was at least entertainment for him that meant he wasn’t bored but it seemed that nothing helped to ease his frustrations. Though making Severus Snape bleed and knowing he could do nothing about it helped a little.
He was almost sad that the potions master wasn’t able to react, it would have be so rewarding to hear his suffering while inflicting it, to have him be able to beg for him to stop, or to just end it all; either would have been sufficient after what that Slytherin bastard had done to Harry. He was angry at Dumbledore too, for allowing a deatheater to get close enough to be able to do this, though at least the old man was trying to rectify his mistakes.
Even toying with Snape wasn’t enough to completely ease back the resentment he felt at not having managed to rescue his poor little Harry. He couldn’t help but worry constantly about where James’ little boy was now. It wasn’t helping that Remus had been absent since that day they had captured Snivellus. He had grown so used to having his lover around since he had escaped from Azkaban. Sirius found that he wasn’t quite sure how to manage without him.
That blasted house-elf, Kreacher, made him meals, but they were bland and unsatisfying, even when he could bring himself to stomach them, which wasn’t often recently. He was sure the decrepit house-elf was doing it deliberately, a thought that was backed up by Kreacher’s incessant and usually rude ramblings, which mentioned blood-traitors and ungrateful sons. He was sure that the house-elf was in cahoots with the portrait of his bitch of a mother who had been known to scream the place down, though only when he was trying to sleep waking him up and giving him a headache.
The only blessing of being alone in the dank and miserable house during the day was that it was usually quiet, the horrendous painting of his mother in the hallway rarely woke, seemingly saving her energy for her night-time efforts of driving him round the bend. Though at least once he had heard his mother speaking in hushed whispers, with the house-elf, as though concocting some great conspiracy, which always worried him.
He had too many thoughts in his head, and he was halfway ready to go looking for Remus if he didn’t turn up soon; he strongly suspected that the meddlesome headmaster had given him instructions to stay at the house in Ingleton. He couldn’t be sure about this though. Wherever his lover was, what he didn’t doubt was that it was on Dumbledore’s instruction for him to be there and so it was with great ease that he could direct at least some of his anger at the much older man.
Right now though, he needed to let off some steam, and given his limited options he headed towards his father’s old study, where he had put Severus. He hadn’t been kidding when he had joked about the memories of the room; it was never a place he had been permitted to go as a child and the few times he had dared to venture in there, on one of his childhood explorations, he had paid for it dearly. Orion Black had not been a man who was hesitant to raise his hand to his children, believing it was best to beat obedience into them while young. Sirius shuddered with the memory of his father; the odious man would have been so proud to see his eldest son now, torturing another with such spiteful vindictiveness.
It had seemed appropriate for Sirius to dole out his own punishments in that room. Replacing the ghosts of his past with viciously pleasing images of his childhood rival sprawled helplessly across the floor which now had a pretty splattering of crimson across the fine oak boards.
The door creaked as it opened and Sirius really hoped that Severus had already learned to associate it with the inevitable suffering that would be inflicted upon his arrival in the room. Of course, Snape couldn’t move, so he had no way of telling but he really hoped that he was flinching mentally at least.
“Are you not even going to get up and greet me,” Sirius mocked as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, grinning at his victim with malicious delight. The bruised and battered body of Severus Snape looked very little like the man they had taken from the Prince house on the Second of September. Fourteen days had passed since then and the man was swollen and discoloured from the torture that Sirius had inflicted upon him.
FGHP
Severus’ mind was in torment and that was far worse that the pain in his body; he just wanted to stop thinking but he was unable to switch off thanks to Dumbledore’s spell, which forcefully held him conscious and alert at all times. He no longer had any perception of time but it felt like it had been an eternity. The days he had spent raising and teaching Harry were nothing more than a wistful dream now, memories of a past life that he would never see again. There were moments where he honestly had questioned the reality of it, wondering if his life with his son, his Harry was one he had dreamt up just to save himself from the nightmare he lived now. The never ending pain and anguish of being trapped here, the brutal and sadistic torturing from a man he could barely recognize through his blackened and swollen eyes.
He wanted to cry and scream more often than not, he only remember that he had had something other than this when loathed, painful memories pushed their way to the forefront of his mind. They were recollections of his life; his abusive, alcoholic father, screaming that he would amount to nothing and how right he had been.
The things that he could remember with vivid certainty were the worst he had discovered. He recalled how Black and Potter had relentlessly tormented him throughout his school years; the torture that he watched the Dark Lord inflict upon the young and the innocent while he stood by and did nothing, the wonder on the face of Lucius Malfoy who, next to him, was enjoying the show.
Then there was a tiny dark haired boy screaming, blood coating his hand, that was by far the worst of them all because he couldn’t do anything about it, only let the child cry, heart wrenching sobs as the child cried for its mother, for anyone to comfort him. Then a jolt of misery and soul-destroying agony as he saw the beautiful tan and brown flecked falcon that he care for so much flying away from him, never to be seen again.
It was so strange that he had come to almost look forward to the moments when Black would come, to the beating that would break his skin and leave him covered in fresh trails of blood. Even the new pains and the disturbing sensation of trickling blood were welcome distractions; the physical horrors easier to process than the mental anguish that he would be left alone with soon after.
He hoped that one day Black would take it too far and that his suffering would be over. He knew that Dumbledore had cursed him, the spiteful old man wanted him to feel this pain. Severus had always known that if he was ever found that his fate would be something worse than death but he had never expected this.
FGHP
Three days after Harry had found the courage to talk to Fenrir they were finally going back to Ingleton and back to the Prince house. Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had overheard Damon telling Fenrir that he didn’t think it was a good idea, the Alpha had just given his beta a strange look that Harry couldn’t understand but nothing more was said on the matter and no more protests were lodged about them going, just the two of them.
In the three days that he had been waiting for this, Harry had found a little more of a rhythm within the pack. Although he still withdrew from larger group activities he was often found talking to Lukas. The two of them were intellectual and could hold endless discussions about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes which most of the other pack mates found tediously dull. Lukas was so far the only one of them that Harry would properly talk to. If anyone else tried to join in on their conversations he would go quiet and eventually skulk away to be alone.
Fenrir was pleased that his little mate was interacting more, even if it was only with the newest pack member. He had ensured that Lukas knew that Harry was off limits in anything more than a friendship capacity. To this Lukas had laughed and told his Alpha that he had no intentions of being anything more than friends seeing as he was a very heterosexual male and even if he had been gay he had figured out pretty quickly the state of play regarding the young boy.
Harry and Fenrir left the clearing in silence, walking to the edge of the territory together so that they could apparate. Fenrir had insisted that they go together. He was not going to risk anything happening to Harry in the unlikely event that they were separated. The Alpha had even insisted that he be the one to take them until Harry had forced him to admit that he had no clue where he was going, which was how it came to be that the younger werewolf was the one to apparate them to Ingleton.
Tentatively Harry turned to face Fenrir, they would have to be touching for Harry to apparate them both, a thought that filled Harry with both dread and excitement. He looked up into the stunning golden eyes and reached out to take the Alphas hand within his own. Fenrir grunted in amusement at this before grabbing hold of Harry’s waist and pulling them together, chest to chest, Harry’s heart thudding uncontrollably.
Struggling to focus he closed his eyes and tried not to think of how close Fenrir was to him, or the scent of the larger man as it took over his nostrils. The second they appeared in Ingleton Harry tore himself from Fenrir’s warmth, desperate to get away from him but only because he could feel himself growing hard from the contact they had shared. The Alpha appeared startled at his mate’s sudden desperation to get away from him, however it had taken a moment too long and he had felt it. He tried not to look smug; it wouldn’t do for Harry to know just yet, he was still emotionally unstable and visiting this place wasn’t going to help matters.
“Which house?” Fenrir asked a rather flushed Harry, who pointed towards his home. The two of them went round the back where they knew that the door had already been blasted off the hinges. It was with a heavy heart that they approached, wands drawn and ready for an attack.
Fenrir loved his pine and dragon heartstring wand, he had had it since he was a boy, the last gift his mother had ever given to him before she had died. He had taken good care of it over the years and it was the item he owned that he was truly sentimental about. “Stay behind me,” The Alpha ordered as they entered the house. Harry noted that the two Aurors, both of whom Damon had stunned, were now gone.
Harry did as he was told, remaining behind the much larger man, feeling as if he could trust Fenrir to protect him and it was a feeling that hit him quite suddenly, with no explanation. Wanting to be sure that they had no surprises Fenrir waved his wand, casting ‘Homenum Revelio’ and discovering that they were indeed alone.
“What do you need?” Fenrir asked.
“Any chance you’re going to let me go and get it while you wait here?” Harry asked innocently and the Alpha shook his head, “thought not, this way then.”
As they climbed the stairs to his bedroom Harry tried to think how he was going to get into the basement without Fenrir following him. He needed to collect his potions without raising suspicions and of course that was where his silver cage was kept. He wasn’t sure he wanted Fenrir to know about that just yet. However if the older wolf insisted on trailing him everywhere then it didn’t seem likely that he wouldn’t find out because there was no chance Harry was leaving without his potions.
All thoughts about potions and dodging Fenrir fell from him mind as he reached his bedroom door. Harry fell to his knees, unable to breath. It felt as if a hippogriff had sat on his chest and was suffocating him. Nothing inside his room had been left untouched. A single tear escaped from him and trickled down his cheek, his mouth slightly open in shock as he saw his life, his memories, his everything destroyed.
Fenrir went down also, wrapping his arms around the younger boy, holding him close to his chest to prevent him from going into shock. For a long moment they knelt together, breathing in time with each other. The Alpha surveyed the room as he held his mate protectively in his arms, noting the blood upon the floor before anything else. Harry didn’t need to see this, he didn’t need to be here.
After several minutes Harry slowly removed himself from Fenrir’s embrace, crawling to where his golden snitch lay crushed upon the ground, broken in two, unable to believe that it was gone. His hands shook violently as he picked up the two pieces, tears now flowing freely. He pressed them together, clinging to a childish hope that he might be able to undo what had been done but it was in vain for nothing could undo such destruction. He had to look away from the shattered memory he held in his trembling hands, unable to process what had been done. This had been his first snitch, bought for him on his seventh birthday.
He let out a gasped sob as he saw the tatters of fabric upon the ground, they were mangled with blood, that he could only assume was his father’s, and discoloured stuffing from his Baloo bear; he could see where one of the eyes clung on to what was now no more than a scrap end of material.
His Dad had gifted it to him when he was only five years old and he had never wanted to be without it since then. The thought that someone had been here, ripping apart his life, destroying his memories and his happiness made him feel ill. He gripped the torn fabric within his fists, clutching it to his chest as his breath came in heaving gasps. The tatters of material were almost unrecognizable now, having nothing in common with the form they had once held.
Unable to hold on to the contents of his stomach he vomited, every part of him trembling. Fenrir helped him to his feet, steadying him, when it looked like his legs weren’t going to be able to hold him, but not saying a word. Harry had turned several shades whiter than usual and tears were streaming endlessly from his wide, pain filled eyes. He reached up to the shelf of photographs that by some miracle was still intact. However what he searched for was no longer there. His mother's wedding and engagement ring were gone. That was enough for Harry and he collapsed onto his bed, unable to support his weight any longer, the alpha wolf lowering him gently down as he went into shock.
What they hadn’t noticed, and Harry almost sat on, was the envelope, sealed with the Hogwarts crest, that had been rested on the bed. At the sight of it Harry wanted to tear into little pieces and not look or think about it. However he still had some shreds of his mind remaining and they told him that if he wanted answers for what had happened here then he should keep hold of it and read it when he was able to take in what it said. Shakily he put the envelope, addressed to Harry Potter/Prince, in his pocket. He couldn’t deal with it now.
Fenrir looked to the shelf of framed pictures. It was almost as if he could see how much each of the broken and destroyed objects meant to Harry just from them. He had not realised how sentimental his mate had been. He only had a wand, Harry on the other hand had so many things but they were all gone. Not only had he lost his father but he had lost his memories as well; stolen from him just like the man who had raised him had been.
The Alpha wolf scooped Harry up in his arms and held him there, the younger boy resting his head upon Fenrir’s solid chest where he could hear the strong heartbeat within. The small body of the boy shaking, his tears dripping from his chin. He had fallen silent as he took in the posters that had been torn violently from the walls and the blood upon the ground and walls.
“We should go,” Fenrir said, “What do you need from here.”
Silently and regretfully Harry slowly shifted himself from his alpha’s arms, moving toward his wardrobe where he removed a backpack. He hastily began to throw clothes inside, working on autopilot, not wanting to be here a moment longer than he needed to be. He paused long enough to take the time to remove the pictures he wanted to take from their frames. He even took the one of him and Clay that had been taken as they were wrestling. it was one thing harry was grateful for, that the photos had remained intact. It would have irreversibly broken him if he had lost those too.
Harry picked up the broken snitch and put that into his bag. If he could have taken a scrap of Baloo bear then he would have done but it had too much blood on it. Harry almost gave up completely as the realisation dawned on him that this had probably been the room that his Dad had died in.
He bent down and ran his fingers over a spattering of blood on the floor, “They killed him here,” Harry managed to say through his gasped breathes as he struggled to remain calm, it was so much more real with the evidence under his fingertips.
“Don’t think about it,” Fenrir instructed as if it were that simple. He remained close to Harry, aware that it was all too much for him and that they needed to leave. “Is that everything?
When Harry shook his head, Fenrir motioned for him to lead the way so they could get out of there faster. There was no way that he was going to let his little mate out of his sight now. The younger wolf couldn’t get out of his room fast enough. He couldn’t stay in there, not knowing that that was where his Dad had lost his life to protect him, to keep him safe.
Guilt wracked his body. If only he had stayed behind and helped fight. What would have happened if he had woken Clay and Damon that night upon reach their house. The three of them were werewolves, even though he hadn’t known that at the time. Maybe they could have saved him. It could have made a difference. He could have saved his Dad but now he was gone and it was his fault because he hadn’t gone back with help sooner, he hadn’t stayed to fight. He could have done something, anything and yet he had done nothing. He had failed. The Aurors had been after him and he had run away like a coward.
“I’ll be back,” Harry said as they reached the kitchen. Fenrir glared at Harry, not caring how much shock he was in, he wasn’t going to leave him alone. “Please,” Harry pleaded, looking up at him with still wet, red and swollen eyes.
“Not a chance,” Fenrir growled with warning.
Resigned that he wouldn’t be able to free himself of the domineering Alpha he unlocked the basement door with his wand and went down the stairs, Fenrir following after him. His heart was pounding as he flicked on the switch. There were three rooms down here, the main one a potions lab, the second little more than a store where his father had kept all the brewed potions. The third was the one Harry didn’t want Fenrir to find as it contained his cage.
Taking his backpack he moved to the store, subtly shrinking down the wolfsbane potion so that it went unseen and picking up a few less worrying potions for headache relief and blood replenishing. However while Harry had distracted himself with this Fenrir had gone to make sure that they were truly alone down here, not wanting to let his guard down for a moment.
Before Harry could stop him, Fenrir had opened up the door to the room that contained his cage. The silver hung heavily in the air here and the Alpha wolf hissed at the sight and smell of it.
He rounded on Harry in a rage, demanding to know what that room was for, why it was in the house at all. Startled by the sudden volume of his voice combined with the shock from what he had seen upstairs Harry lost control, throwing up a defiant wall to keep Fenrir out. He didn’t want to seem like he cared. He had felt so much in the last few days but it almost hadn’t been real. The reality was hitting him hard now, he wanted to scream and shout, he wanted to be angry. Fenrir was the perfect candidate for his fury.
“We needed it,” Harry said bluntly; he wouldn’t have wanted to answer the Alpha’s questions about this even if his heart didn’t feel like it had just been ripped from his chest, he certainly was in no state to do so now but if the Alpha wolf wanted a fight then he was going to get one.
Fenrir however was livid at what he had just discovered and he wanted answers. “For what?” he demanded, fearing that the thought screaming inside his mind could be true, that Harry had been put in that room. The silver that hung in the air could very well have poisoned him. It was no wonder he never scented out Damon and Clay for what they were if he had been subjected to being in their once a month as he transformed. There was no telling what damage had been done.
“For me,” Harry admitted, his voice soft but strong. It was a shame that his body betrayed him, his hands still trembling and he was unable to stop the flow of tears despite his anger at being challenged over what was such a trivial thing to him. He couldn’t understand why Fenrir was this angry about something that meant nothing more than safety for those he loved from his wolf on the full moon.
The young werewolf met his eyes stubbornly, the way he had the night he had joined the pack, his gaze unwavering. “Why,” Fenrir asked, trying to control the rage that was burning inside him; images of his little mate caged up like some animal, being slowly poisoned by silver, tormenting him. For the first time he was regretting not having taken Harry with him that night at Malfoy Manor. He had assumed his mate would be safer with the man that had called himself his father. Apparently he was wrong.
At the time he had had no pack and no territory. He couldn’t have raised a pup, there wouldn’t been any stability and if he had been caught by the Ministry then he would have been locked up in Azkaban, Harry’s fate would have been just as bad. However judging by what he had been put through in what was supposed to be a loving home he wasn’t sure that it had been any better for him here and it didn’t bear thinking about.
“You know why,” Harry almost whispered. Fenrir growled in fury at the confirmation, “I would have hurt someone otherwise, I could have hurt my Dad.”
“That’s silver!” Fenrir snarled as if Harry wouldn’t know, as if somehow he wouldn’t understand how dangerous that metal was for them as werewolves.
“I know!” Harry snapped back, hating that Fenrir was treating him like a disillusioned, uninformed child. He knew what it was, it had been his decision to use it when he had become older, stronger, especially in his wolf form. He hadn’t wanted to run the risk that he might get out, that he could have hurt someone that he loved. The silver had been his choice, not something anyone had forced upon him.
“Why would your father, who supposedly loved you, let you anywhere near silver,” Fenrir demanded, assuming that no werewolf would ever put themselves through that willingly but not realising exactly how self-sacrificing his mate was. Fenrir didn’t really know him at all.
“HE DID LOVE ME!” Harry bellowed, his temper suddenly rising to match Fenrir’s, he would never let anyone question how much his father loved him. Severus Prince loved his son, he had died for his son, and that was how Harry would make sure everyone remembered him; as an amazing father.
“NOT THE POINT!” The Alpha wolf shouted right back at him.
“YES IT IS!” Harry yelled, stepping forward and actually shoving at Fenrir’s chest; it made him feel a tiny bit better, or at least empowered, even if he was unable to move the Alpha even an inch. “I DID IT BECAUSE I LOVED HIM, I DIDN’T WANT TO HURT HIM OR ANYONE ELSE! I WANTED TO BE IN THERE! I STILL WANT TO BE IN THERE!” Fenrir was going to have to learn he was not going to just sit back and let his life be judged or dictated to him. He was always going to make his own choices regardless of what anyone else thought.
“NO!” Fenrir shouted, horrified that Harry could wish to himself in that cage at all, not daring to believe that the silver poisoning that had no doubt damaged his mates senses was self-inflicted. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend that Harry would rather put himself in that cage than spend the full moon with the pack where he belonged. “Never again. You will be a real werewolf. You are part of the pack now.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be part of the pack, maybe I don’t want to be a real werewolf!” Harry didn’t mean it, he was angry and he was scared. Fenrir was a large and powerful man, words were all Harry had to hurt him with. “I was happy here with my Dad, I didn’t want it to change,” he added with far more honesty and a fresh set of tears streaming down his face.
“Well it did!” Fenrir growled out. He was angry about the cage and worried about Harry’s attitude to being a pack werewolf and found he had reached his limit with Harry’s inability to accept the way things were. “You belong with me now!!” He hadn’t meant to say that; he had meant to say ‘us’ but in the heat of the moment he had let it slip and there was nothing he could do to take it back.
“I’m never going to belong to you! I don’t, and won’t ever, belong to anyone,” Harry said as he turned and stormed off up the stairs, wanting to get as far away from Fenrir as he could. The Alpha wolf just didn’t understand and how could he?
Fenrir couldn’t understand how only minutes ago he had held Harry in his arms, felt his heart beating against his chest, cradled him lovingly, holding him close and now … it was hard to keep up with the emotional whiplash he was bound to get with his mate. He did not enjoy the screaming matches, but what he had seen was cause for concern and he only wanted to protect Harry, keep him from being hurt; even if it was from himself. However it seemed that now he had been the cause of the pain he was feeling, as if the young boy needed to feel anymore.
Not wanting to let Harry out of his sight but still wanting to give him a little space to calm down, he followed in Harry’s wake. Fenrir hoped that his mate had enough sense to return to the pack, despite his clear dislike for being there. He was at least safe in their territory and they could keep their distance from one another while their tempers settled; then they could try to talk again. This time it would hopefully be a little more level headedly.
FGHP
Remus Lupin had been watching the house that Severus and Harry had been found in for weeks, almost two and a half of them to be more precise and that wasn’t even including the whole of August when he and Sirius had been waiting around to try and find Harry in the first place. In all honesty he was completely sick of the place; he missed sleeping in a comfortable bed, he missed having real meals and, most of all, he really missed his lover.
There was no question that Sirius was infuriating and frustrating at times, but despite himself, and probably what would be in his best interests, Remus still loved the man. He truly did believe that Sirius loved him too, but for the moment his best friend and lover had only one focus; getting Harry back. Of course Remus wanted to find Harry too, wanted to know that James and Lily’s boy was safe and happy, but not with the same fervent possessive obsession that Sirius did.
So although he no longer wanted to be there, he would stay and wait and watch, just like Dumbledore had told him to, in the hope that Harry would return. He would do it for Sirius, so that they might be able to give Harry the life the poor boy deserved. It was the only way his and Sirius’ relationship would ever stand a chance. If they failed in regards to Harry the two of them would have nothing and that thought saddened the werewolf.
It was early evening of yet another day where nothing had happened and the light of the day was just starting to dim in the back garden where he was sitting. Remus shifted around to get more comfortable; being careful to make sure James’ old invisibility cloak still covered him completely. His boredom alone was threatening to let him fall asleep despite the early hour and uncomfortable position he was sat in that had made his bum go numb, the mid-September weather not helping in this regard.
“Stay behind me,” a gruff, commanding voice commanded, catching Remus’ attention and making him look up towards the house.
There, just stepping through the broken back doorway into the house, was a teenage boy who was so obviously Harry. He was being led by a much bigger and older man with scruffy, long, dirty blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck and was wearing a very long brown leather jacket that had definitely seen better days. They both had their wands drawn and the older man cast a spell to detect human presence in the house before they very cautiously stepped inside.
Remus listened carefully as the man spoke again. “What do you need?” he demanded.
“Any chance you’re going to let me go and get it while you wait here?” Remus heard Harry ask and he saw the other man shook his head in refusal. “Thought not, this way then,” Harry said as they headed further into the house

Remus was surprised to see that Harry had returned at all, surely Snape would have taught the boy enough to know not to come back, that it would be dangerous and someone would likely be waiting for them. Maybe was Sirius was right about Harry being like James; he would have come back despite the risks too. Remus was more than a little glad it was him who Dumbledore had asked to keep look out, rather than someone like Mad-Eye, who would have stunned first, asked questions later.
He knew what he was supposed to do now, he was supposed to send his patronus to Dumbledore, but he found himself hesitating; if he sent a message to the headmaster then undoubtedly the man would show up with his Aurors and half of the Order of the Phoenix to seize Harry. Then surely the man taking care of Harry would suffer the same fate as Snape had; whatever that was. Remus had already decided that, if Sirius and Dumbledore weren’t telling, then he was better off not knowing.
Getting to his feet slowly, so as to stay as quiet as possible, Remus pulled the cloak tighter around himself. He was curious as to what Harry was back here for, there had to be a good reason and he needed to know what it was before he decided to take action. He felt like too many people were keeping too many secrets and for once he wanted to be the one with the information.
He stepped inside the house and wondered where the two of them would have gone. He took his time checking around on the ground floor but nothing seemed to have been touched and there was no sign of either Harry or the unknown man. Closing his eyes, he focused on listening. It sounded as though they were upstairs, probably collecting a few of Harry’s things Remus supposed, but he couldn’t make out anything that was being said.
Still debating whether or not to risk going up the stairs, Remus had a moment of panic when Harry started to come down them at quite a pace. He quickly moved himself into the living room out of the way, not wanting to risk one of the two of them barging into him and discovering his presence there. He could hear them talking again, in the kitchen this time he thought, and so he crept into the hallway where he pressed himself against the wall to listen, but they had gone quiet once more.
Frustrated by missing even the small snippets of conversation the two were having Remus poked his head around the doorway and peered around the room. They were no longer there but given it was the only other door out of the room it seemed as though they had headed down into what looked like a basement. Remus bit his lip for a moment before summoning his Gryffindor courage and stepped into the kitchen. He was still invisible, after all, and he really was curious what Harry could possibly want or need from the basement.
“That’s silver!” he heard the unknown man say angrily and he guessed that whoever it was knew about Harry being a werewolf.
“I know,” Harry argued back, and Remus almost smiled as he thought just how much like James Harry sounded.
“Why would your father, who supposedly loved you, let you anywhere near silver?”
A fair question in Remus’ opinion, thinking about the times he had been close to it and how it made him feel. There was no question in Remus’ mind that Snape must have known about Harry’s lycanthropy. He had asked Severus to help him develop a potion too but the potions master had vanished before Remus had had a chance to ask him about it and that got him wondering.
“HE DID LOVE ME!” Harry bellowed and Remus was actually a little bit stunned by his fervour and the surety in his voice.
“NOT THE POINT!” the other man bellowed back.
“YES IT IS! I DID IT BECAUSE I LOVED HIM, I DIDN’T WANT TO HURT HIM OR ANYONE ELSE! I WANTED TO BE IN THERE! I STILL WANT TO BE IN THERE!”
Harry was yelling at the top of his lungs and whether or not Snape had really loved him, Harry obviously believed it. That was something that surprised him if he was honest with himself; Remus had just accepted that Harry’s childhood with Snape had been less than the one he could have had otherwise and now he found himself suddenly questioning that assumption. He was already certain that neither Dumbledore nor Sirius would want to hear that Snape might have been a good father to the boy; they would never be able to accept it.
“NO! Never again. You will be a real werewolf. You are part of the pack now.”
So this other man was a werewolf too, and Harry was with a pack? He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that; the idea of werewolves running wild but at least he was fair sure Harry would be kept safe, given how protective he had heard packs were over their members. Remus guessed this man was likely their alpha, which made the way Harry had been talking to him very daring; he was a little surprised that Harry hadn’t been dragged out of the house by the scruff of his neck already if that really was his Alpha.
“Maybe I don’t want to be part of the pack, maybe I don’t want to be a real werewolf!” Oh, so the wrong thing to say, Remus thought to himself with a cringe. “I was happy here with my Dad, I didn’t want it to change.”
“Well it did! You belong with me now!!”
“I’m never going to belong to you! I don’t, and won’t ever, belong to anyone,”
He barely had time to process those words before the sound of footsteps hurrying up the stairs made him move quickly from the doorway and it was only just in time because a crying, and obviously angry, Harry rushed through it, and then out of the kitchen, a few seconds later. Remus noted, with a bit of relief, that at least the boy had Dumbledore’s letter sticking out of his pocket. Even if everything else had gone wrong there was that.
Remus quickly hurried after him and got out to the garden just in time to watch Harry vanish as he apparated away. There was a roar of frustration and anger. Remus spun on the spot and jumped to the side when the large man came storming out of the house a few seconds later his face contorted with rage but still it was unmistakable. Remus was trembling as he took in the man before him, the reality of who it really was hitting him like a kick to the stomach.
Greyback. Harry’s Alpha werewolf was Fenrir Greyback. Remus felt sick; Harry had been right there and he had let him leave again to go back to living in a pack of werewolves with the monster who had bitten Remus when he was only four years old. Remus could do nothing but watch in horror as the most feared and well known werewolf in Britain apparated away, presumably to follow after Harry.
Remus knew he would have to speak with Dumbledore, he would let the headmaster know that Harry got his letter but there was something that made him want to keep Harry’s secret. As much as the idea of James and Lily’s son being in the care of Greyback scared him, he couldn’t honestly say that he believed he would be any safer under the devious watch of Albus Dumbledore.
It was only with a little hesitation and doubt that he decided he would tell the man the bare minimum; he had seen Harry and the letter had been taken, everything else was Harry’s business as far as Remus was concerned and nothing to do with the nosey headmaster. Harry would probably be at Hogwarts come the new year anyway, if Dumbledore wanted to know more about Harry’s life he could ask him then. Playing over in his head exactly what he was going to say, Remus threw floo powder into the fireplace and instructed, “Dumbledore’s Office, Hogwarts.”
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Fragmented Soul