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

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Harry spent most of the day shut away in his room, checking over his homework and finishing the last few bits and pieces that needed doing. It was the first time since turning thirteen that he hadn’t had a nagging urge to go out looking for a mate. No doubt the urge would return soon but he was making the most of being able to concentrate fully on his homework. Hermione would be proud.
When he finally emerged from his room for food - he could only eat cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs for so long before his body demanded real food - he was surprised to see Rick sitting at the bar. Without Timothy’s massive form looming over him the fashion-conscious werewolf looked much bigger. The muscle mass didn’t bother him, as used to being towered over as he was, but the jittering leg and massive grin made him wary. He really hoped he wasn’t about to be dragged off for another impromptu shopping trip, his trunk would explode if it had to hold any more clothes.
Harry had barely moved three steps into the room before the werewolf spotted him.
“Harry!” Rick shouted, springing up off the barstool and grabbing the demon into a hug. “Finally! I’ve been sitting here waiting for ages. I was going to go up and find you but Alpha says I shouldn’t do stuff like that because people don’t want to be disturbed if they’re busy and I figured you were busy because Timothy says you usually sit outside. What were you doing?” he asked, looking quizzically at Harry. He carried on talking before Harry had chance to process the words being thrown at him. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter, you’re here now. The plans for tonight have changed, if you don’t mind putting off our night out until tomorrow? Are you doing anything the day after tomorrow?”
“Er, I don’t think so?” Harry answered hesitantly once he was sure the werewolf wasn’t going to continue talking and was waiting for an answer. Had he even taken a breath since he started talking?
“Do you want to go to a quidditch match? We have a spare ticket,” Rick offered, speaking at a normal pace now the pent-up excitement was out of his system.
“Really?” Harry said, surprised. “Who’s going?”
“The pack,” Rick shrugged. “Not all of us, but those who are interested. Which is most of us. Well, most of us not counting the pups but they aren’t coming because they’re in trouble for something. Not that they’re actually pups but they are young and they got in trouble with the Boss so they’re in even bigger trouble with Alpha and they’re working overtime to make up for whatever they did. I’m not sure what that was, something to do with attitude to customers or something. Anyway, we have a spare ticket if you want to come?”
“Are you sure?” Harry asked. “I only know two of you, would the rest of the pack not mind a stranger tagging along?”
Rick shrugged. “Alpha said I could invite you so it’s fine. The pack will love you, you should come and meet them.”
“If you’re sure I’m not imposing, then thank you,” Harry said with a grin. “Who is playing? It’s the Harpies isn’t it?”
“Harpies vs. Wasps,” Rick nodded, returning Harry’s grin. “Half the pack support the Wasps. That’s why so many of us are going. It’s like the default team to support if you don’t already support one before joining the pack.”
“Gryffindor’s default team is Puddlemere United. Even people who did support a different team originally are sometimes converted by the end of first year. Oliver is fanatical like that,” Harry laughed.
“A United fan? I bet Timothy loves that,” Rick snickered as he followed Harry to the bar to order food. Never one to pass up an opportunity for food Rick ordered something as well before they made their way over to a table in the corner.
“So what were you doing all day?” Rick asked curiously once they were sitting down and the food had appeared on the table. He’d been in Harry’s room and knew there wasn’t much to keep him entertained.
“Homework. It’s surprising what a difference it makes to your concentration when you don’t have your instincts screaming at you to find a mate,” Harry shrugged. “Even Snape can’t doubt that I put effort in this time. Not that something as measly as the truth has ever got in the way of his claims before.”
Rick screwed up his face in distaste. “Ick, homework. If there is one thing I like about university it is the lack of summer homework. Though the work we get throughout the year more than makes up for it.”
“You go to university?” Harry asked, surprised. Not many magicals bothered with a muggle education. Even muggleborns usually gave up their muggle roots in favour of living a magical lifestyle.
“Yep. Contrary to popular belief I do in fact have a brain and it is used for more than just giving fashion advice to those unfortunate souls with no taste who don’t know how to dress themselves.”
“What do you study?” Harry asked curiously. He felt a little bad about his previous opinion of the excitable werewolf. Like most people, he’d just seen the giddiness and somewhat childish behaviour and made the assumption the werewolf wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. Admittedly he had known Rick for less than a day but he had thought he knew better than to jump to conclusions like that.
“Economics,” Rick replied, looking amused at Harry’s surprise. “The Boss Man sponsors any of us who want to go to uni or do an apprenticeship or something, as long as the skills we develop will be useful to him once we’re qualified.”
“Boss Man?” Harry parroted with a laugh.
“Most of the pack works for him, what else would we call him?” Rick defended. “Even I work for him in the summer, in an undergrad work experience position, and I’ll work for him when I graduate too, so Boss Man works perfectly. Unless Alpha’s around, then it’s Mr. Calvey or Sir. Alpha gets twitchy about disrespect.”
“So is economics interesting?”
“The reading can be dry but I think it’s interesting - I wouldn’t study it otherwise. It’s useful too. Not many wizards bother with stuff like that because purebloods own a lot of the market - though not quite as much as they like to think because they tend to ignore us Creatures and any investments we have - and they see muggle stuff as beneath them and won’t study any ‘muggle’ subjects. Some of the purebloods have good business sense but a lot don’t, which makes it easy to fleece them. It’s interesting comparing the muggle and magical economies because…” Rick was on a roll and didn’t look like he would be stopping his enthusiastic babbling any time soon.
Harry tried to focus because he didn’t want to offend the likeable werewolf, and some of the endless flood of information was interesting, but with his limited frame of reference a lot of it went over his head. It didn’t take long for the demon’s eyes to glaze over as he hmm’d and nodded at what he hoped were appropriate points. It was like listening to Hermione explain magical theory while he and Ron understood little past ‘wand movement’ and ‘incantation’.
Just as Harry began thinking up polite ways to get the subject away from economics he was saved by the arrival of Timothy.
“Oh you poor soul,” Timothy laughed as Harry sent him a pleading look. “How long have you been here?”
“A while,” Harry said, giving a mental sigh of relief as Rick finally stopped talking economics and greeted Timothy.
“Did you ask him about the match or have you just been yakking on about economics?” an amused Timothy asked.
“Of course I asked him!” Rick huffed. “I was sitting here for ages waiting for him, I wasn’t going to forget what I came for!”
“Just checking,” said Timothy, holding his hands up placatingly. “Are you coming then?” he asked Harry, who grinned and nodded.
“Definitely! I’ve never been to a professional match before. We listen to them in the common room sometimes but I’ve only ever seen House Cup games,” Harry said with an excited smile.
The werewolves couldn’t help but smile back. The demon’s smile lit up his face and he was almost vibrating with excitement. There would be a lot of competition to have Harry as a mate, Timothy thought, wondering idly if Shax had any idea how innocently appealing Harry could be.
“This will be a heck of a first match for you to see, then,” the older werewolf smiled. “The Wasps have been playing better than ever and the Harpies rarely have a bad game. It should be a close match.”
“And we have box seats,” Rick added enthusiastically.
“We do?” Timothy asked with raised eyebrows. While they did sometimes get box seats thanks to Shax’s fondness of discussing business deals at games, they usually stuck with ordinary tickets when it was just the pack going.
Rick nodded happily. “Alpha is coming too,” he explained. “And there’ll be a big group of us. It’s not as fun if we’re all spread out so we’re using the box.”
“Alpha’s coming?” Timothy repeated in surprise. “Why does nobody tell me anything?” he grumbled. He supposed he should have seen this coming. Domovoi had said that he wanted to meet Harry and going to a quidditch match was an easy way to avoid awkward moments. This way it seemed less like Timothy presenting Harry for his alpha’s approval. And didn't that sound all kinds of wrong, even in his head?
“Of course he is. This is shaping up to be the Wasp’s biggest game this year, it’s not one he’s going to want to miss,” said Rick, looking at Timothy like that should have been obvious.
“Good point well made,” Timothy nodded. Rick was right, Domovoi would have been going to the game anyway, demon submissive or no demon submissive. The fact that it gave him an easy way to meet Harry was just an added bonus - or a contrived bonus. Though it did raise the question of whether Shax would be joining them. Timothy didn’t even know if that would be allowed; the rules surrounding demons and mating didn’t make much sense to him.
“…this evening or are you staying here?” Timothy surfaced from his thoughts in time to catch the tail end of Rick’s question. The other two hadn’t noticed his internal musing and had carried on chatting.
“I hadn’t thought about it really. I’ve spent all day correcting my homework and the most of being able to really concentrate on it. It would be nice to be spend the evening in Leena’s, if you’re sure you don’t mind taking me.”
“You’ve put up with my yapping for the last couple of hours, least I can do is walk you to Leena’s,” Rick grinned.
Timothy smiled softly as he watched the younger werewolf joke with Harry. He doubted the demon knew how much it meant to Rick that Harry listened to his rambling and put up with his hyperactivity without ever making it seem like a chore. Even with the pack getting along as well as they did, Rick was often something of an outsider with many of the pack being less than patient with the excitable werewolf’s exuberance. The older werewolf hoped that the Alpha would like Harry as much as he thought he would. Regardless of how well Shax’s attempts at mating were, Harry would make a good friend to the pack. Timothy also suspected that the pack would help fill a gap in Harry’s life that the demon never acknowledged but felt all the same.
“Come on then, if we’re going,” he said eventually, after spending a while watching the younger two talk. “We’ll be here ’til Christmas if I leave you two to your yakking.”
“Pot, kettle, black!” protested Harry. “You can give a jabberknoll a run for its money once you get going.”
“Yes but unlike you two I was gifted with many skills, one of which is that most difficult art of walking and talking at the same time,” Timothy smirked, chivvying the spluttering youngsters out into Diagon Alley.
The trip through the Dark District was uneventful, with Harry sticking close to the werewolves and doing his best to ignore the skin crawling feeling the Darker shops gave him. Timothy still wouldn’t let him get too close to the place called Veela’s Promise, though Rick giggled at the discomforted look on the older werewolf’s face as he herded Harry along.
Leena’s was busy again, a constant trickle of people coming and going and several of the tables filled with chattering customers. Leena herself was happy to see Harry, less happy to see Timothy, and surprisingly affectionate towards Rick.
“I feel unloved,” Timothy declared as the dryad gave Rick a one-armed hugged over the counter and berated him for not visiting more often.
“You, feel free to visit as infrequently as possible,” retorted Leena, jabbing a finger into his huge chest. For a short woman with flowers braided into her hair she could be scary. If it wasn’t a magical impossibility Timothy would have sworn her tree was Devil’s Snare; unassuming until it was already too late.
Harry was pleasantly surprised to spot Damian, the young Dominant he had met yesterday, sitting at one of the tables. He made his way over after paying for the drink Leena handed him, leaving the werewolves at the counter.
“Hello again,” he smiled, sitting down across from the other demon, who once again looked surprised that Harry had approached him.
“Harry!” the answering smile was blinding. “How are you?”
“Fed up of homework,” Harry said pulling a face. “Potions was horrible and Transfiguration wasn’t much better.”
Damian pulled a sympathetic face. “Transfiguration was never my strong point. Potions wasn’t too bad. I managed to get a NEWT in it. That was a while ago though - some of the potions on the syllabus now weren’t even invented when I was at school.”
Harry blinked. He knew Damian was 100 years old but he’d never really thought about what that meant. The dominant gave off such a young and inexperienced vibe that Harry has trouble thinking of him as a hundred years old and not an unsure teenager.
“You’re not missing much,” Harry said after a moment. “Some of the potions are vaguely interesting but Snape effectively kills any enthusiasm we might have. Transfiguration is hard but at least Professor McGonagall doesn’t expect you to be NEWT ready in your first lesson,” he rolled his eyes.
“My potions professor wasn’t too bad,” Damian said. “He was pretty new and still all bright-eyed and eager about teaching. He just had an annoying habit of trying to get close to students with famous relatives and people who stood a good chance of being famous in later life. He was a decent teacher though.”
“Can we swap?” Harry pleaded playfully. “I can deal with someone fame-seeking if it means I never have to see Snape again.”
Damian laughed. “He can’t be that bad.”
“He hates me,” insisted Harry.
“How much of that is your fault?” Damian asked dryly. It seemed he had taken Harry’s lecture about not handling submissives with kid gloves seriously, or at least he was more confident about disagreeing with Harry specifically.
“It’s not my fault!” Harry protested. “At least, it wasn’t my fault at first. It might be slightly, maybe, a little bit my fault now,” he conceded at Damian’s disbelieving look.
Their conversation this time was more successful than yesterday’s attempts. Damian’s more confident attitude, and the lack of ignorant dominants interrupting, made it a much more enjoyable experience for Harry. As conversation moved away from school and onto other topics - careers and Damian’s family - Harry found himself revising his opinion of the young dominant. If this new found confidence was a permanent change he wouldn’t make a bad mate.
Harry’s thoughts ground to a halt. Where had that come from?
He had thought about mating in an abstract way, and had even discussed it with Timothy, but this was the first time he had seriously thought about it in a this-is-actually-happening way. It suddenly seemed a lot more real when he found himself subconsciously slapping a mental ‘definite maybe’ sticker onto a dominant.
“Harry?” Damian said, waving a hand in front of the submissive’s face. “Are you alright? You zoned out.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said dazedly, shaking his head a little. “Sorry, I got lot in thought. Homework killed my concentration,” he joked as Damian continued to look concerned. Perhaps the dominant wasn’t quite as over the whole ‘submissives are made of glass’ thing as Harry had thought.
Damian gave a small smile, still not looking entirely reassured, “Maybe you should call it a night? Not that I don’t enjoy talking to you but you must be tired for your eyes to glaze over like that,” he said, half teasing, half concerned.
“Yeah that’s probably a good idea,” Harry nodded, still feeling a bit dazed by his sudden sort-of-revelation. An early night would give him chance to completely digest the idea this was really, actually happening.
“Is that werewolf you were with yesterday here again? You shouldn’t walk back on your own,” Damian fretted. “Maybe you should ask Leena if you can use her Floo. I’d offer to walk you back but I don’t want to be presumptuous, my Dad would kill me if he found me being so forward - then my Mum would dig me up, revive me and lecture me on appropriate behaviour around Scouting submissives before killing me again.”
Harry laughed. “Breathe Damian! Timothy should still be around and even if he isn’t I can see Rick over by the counter. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“Right, sorry,” the dominant blushed, shifting sheepishly. “I’ll see you tomorrow maybe, or later sometime? If you want to, of course.”
“I don’t know if it will be tomorrow but I’ll see you before I go back to school,” said Harry before Damian could launch into another round of second guessing himself. The confidence from their conversation seemed to have evaporated and they were back to the don’t-offend-the-submissive behaviour from yesterday.
“Ok then, I’ll see you later at some point. Are you sure you can get back-“
“I’m fine,” Harry said firmly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He smiled at Damian’s sheepish look. As annoying as the fretting was, Harry also found it slightly endearing. The young dominant didn’t seem to be able to keep himself from worrying, even knowing Harry was in safe hands, but it was borne out of a genuine concern, not a belief that Harry was incompetent.
Giving Damian a cheery wave, Harry made his way over to Rick and slid into the seat next to him.
“Are you done already?” asked Rick, looking surprised. “I thought you’d take longer, or at least be talking to more people.”
“I had an epiphany and it’s only just really sinking in,” Harry said, rolling his empty mug in his hands.
“Oh?” Rick turned more fully towards him, flicking a glance at the rest of the cafe over Harry’s shoulder before focusing on the teenager’s face. “What epiphany would that be?”
“I’m looking for a mate-”
“Didn’t you already know that?” Timothy’s voice interrupted from behind him, making him jump.
“Timothy!” yelped Harry. “For the love of-! Do you have to do that every time?!”
“It’s funny,” shrugged an unrepentant Timothy.
“I’m going to buy you a collar with a bell,” Harry growled.
“I didn’t know you were into games like that,” Timothy said with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.
Harry buried his head in his arms as Rick burst out laughing.
“You’re both evil and I hate you,” Harry declared, voice muffled. He lifted his head to look pleadingly at Leena, who was watching with amusement. “Leena, they’re being mean to me, make them stop,” he whined.
Timothy yelped, glaring down at the offending plant that had just nipped him.
“Not fair!” he pouted. “Rick was involved too, why isn’t he being attacked?”
“I like Rick, but both of you leave Harry alone. He’s the only sane one here, I don’t need you two rubbing off on him,” she said sternly.
Timothy yelped again.
“I didn’t do anything!” he protested, rubbing his stinging leg.
“You were thinking it, I took preventative measures. Not everybody’s mind lives in the gutter,” Leena scowled. Timothy pouted but didn’t deny it.
“So,” the werewolf said, turning to Harry, “about your epiphany. How can you have only just realised you are looking for a mate? What were you doing the rest of the time?”
“I haven’t only just realised,” Harry said exasperatedly. “It’s just…it has only just really sunk in. I’m looking for a mate.”
“This isn’t the start of some beginning-life crisis is it?” Timothy asked, peering at him warily. “Because I’m really not good at emotional stuff.”
“He’s really not,” Rick agreed cheerfully. “Once, Alpha left his niece alone with him when she was upset. We came back to a sea of balloon animals. For a young cub it would have a cute way to cheer them up but Jasmine is twenty.”
“It worked!,” Timothy defended. “She stopped crying.”
“Yeah, because she was too busy wondering what kind of insane person her uncle had left her alone with. She was probably trying to devise a way to escape without provoking the crazy person. There were, like, sixty balloon animals in your flat and they were all animated. Noisily animated. It was actually quite impressive for half an hour’s work,” mused Rick, as Harry shook with laughter and Leena - who had been listening as she made drinks for customers - rolled her eyes.
“I’m not having an emotional breakdown,” assured Harry once he had calmed down enough to talk. “It was just a bit of a shock to realise I’m subconsciously judging dominants’ suitability when I’m not even fully aware of it or thinking about it.”
The two werewolves looked unsure how to respond but Leena snorted.
“Instincts will do that to you after an inheritance,” she said dryly. “These two won’t know much about it, being bitten not born, but I remember coming into the main part of my inheritance. Before it I was just a girl who liked plants and had a special tree, then almost overnight I grew a small forest in my bedroom and I could feel the needs of every plant I came across. I was exhausted for days and the plants around me just kept growing. It came as quite a shock to realise I was subconsciously using magic to fulfil the plants’ needs,” she shrugged. “Other people can tell you what will happen, and you think you understand it and know what to expect, but it is still a shock to the system to discover all these extra instincts you didn’t have before,” she sighed as she handed fresh drinks to the three.
Harry was listening intently, he always enjoyed learning about other Creatures and how their race worked. Timothy was surprised the dryad was willing to share so much with him there. Usually he was snarked at or ignored.
“I can’t give much advice on the mating front, Dryads aren’t the mate-for-life type, but the advice for dealing with any new instincts is pretty much the same,” Leena continued, wiping down the coffee machine as vines holding a cloth and spray bottle appeared to wipe the counter. “Take them as they come, don’t try to fight or force them or you’ll get frustrated at best or, more likely, do yourself some damage. If you are blindsided by something try and take a bit of time to get used to the idea before carrying on. You can push through and carry on without a timeout if you need to but doing it too often is a sure-fire way to end up stressed and overwhelmed by it all. Everything will come in time, trying to rush it and grow up too fast will just make you burn out.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for the advice. The stuff we learn in Gryffindor is useful but there’s not much on how to actually cope emotionally with the influx of new instincts. Plenty on what to expect physically and ability-wise — for some races, at least - and lots of information about ruling bodies and etiquette, but not a lot on how to handle the stress of all the changes.”
Leena glanced over her shoulder from where she was rearranging syrup bottles, giving him an odd look. “I don’t expect there would be,” she said, turning to look at him fully. “The House is there to allow Creatures to get an education without revealing ourselves to wizards, and to give children an opportunity to interact with members of other species on neutral ground. They teach you a bit about most Creatures to help prevent fights caused by ignorance of each other’s culture and habits, and to give those who don’t have another source of information a fighting chance. Guiding and supporting children emotionally through their inheritance is the parent’s responsibility, not the House’s; everything I told you is advice your parents should have given.”
Timothy shifted uncomfortably as Harry stared in silent surprise. It was the first time anyone had explained the reasons behind Gryffindor House’s founding to him. Most people just said it was the House for Creatures and left it at that.
“Uh, Leena?” Timothy muttered uncomfortably, glancing at Harry, trying to see if the demon had been offended by the comment about his parents, and giving the dryad a pointed look. Harry didn’t look upset or offended but the werewolf didn’t think it was appropriate to talk about what his parents should have been doing, and he doubted Harry would be willing to discuss how helpful his current guardians should be either. Leena seemed to get the message from Timothy’s uncharacteristically serious look, as she didn’t mention Harry’s parents again.
“Anyway,” she said briskly, drawing Harry out of his thoughts, “the point is, you don’t need to thank me and if you need any more advice, ask away. It doesn’t cost me anything and the more help you have the easier you’ll find things.” She walked off to the other end of the counter as soon as she finished speaking, not giving a startled Harry chance to respond.
Harry looked at the two werewolves; Timothy looked as surprised as Harry felt, but Rick was staring after Leena with an amused look.
“That was…abrupt,” Harry said after exchanging bemused looks with Timothy. Rick snickered.
“That’s Leena’s way of dealing with embarrassment,” he grinned. “If I didn’t know better I’d say she was feeling maternal with the way she’s worrying about you pushing yourself and overdoing it. I didn’t know Leena knew how to be maternal. Poor Harry. With werewolves, demons and a dryad being all protective of you, it’ll be a miracle if your sanity lasts until the end of the year,” he said, patting Harry’s head commiseratingly.
“As long as the maternal dryad isn’t as clothes obsessed as the protective werewolves, I think I’ll be fine,” Harry retorted. “But if anyone tries to make me go clothes shopping again I’ll…er…” he wracked his brain for a suitably horrendous threat. “I’ll make them spend an evening with Lockhart! He was enough to put me off caring about fashion, ever.”
“Why?! Why would you say that?” Timothy exclaimed, giving him a look of exaggerated horror. Harry turned to look at him questioningly but before he could ask what the problem was Rick started talking. And didn’t stop.
“Fashion isn’t as pointless as people think,” he started, in the same tone Oliver Wood used when someone asked what was so great about quidditch. Harry had a feeling it was going to be one of those talks, the kind only a true fanatic can give. The resigned expression on Timothy’s face was not reassuring. Harry was reluctantly impressed with the length and speed of Rick’s rant. He was talking as fast as Hermione had the time when Ron had suggested that homework didn’t matter as long as they could pass the end of year exams (Harry had privately agreed with the redhead but he wasn’t foolish enough to actually admit it out loud in Hermione’s earshot).
Timothy was clearly used to Rick launching into rants like this and had come prepared, pulling out a notebook that he was now scribbling in. When Harry glanced over to see if it was anything he could also use a distraction, he was surprised to see the werewolf using a muggle notebook and pen. Even muggleborn students quickly converted to using a quill and parchment once in the wizarding world, as the stationery they were used to would quickly disintegrate when put under the stress of magic with the simple spellcheck and correction spells all students used. Animal products could withstand far great magical exposure than the highly processed muggle products and quickly became the go-to option for all magicals, unless they spent a lot of time among muggles where parchment would attract attention.
Interest over the muggle origins of the werewolf’s stationery aside, the contents of the notebook seemed to be lists of names, numbers and little notes in illegible handwriting. Nothing Harry could use as a distraction. That left him with no option other than smiling, nodding and being told more about fashion than he’d ever wanted to know. After what seemed like an eternity to the bored stiff demon, the ranting werwolf finally drew his lecture to a close, prompting Timothy to give an exaggerated look at his watch.
“It’s a new record!” he cheered. “Harry is now the official holder of the record time for listening to one of your rants without having something to distract him or looking for an escape route. Really, he should get a medal or something for feats of inhuman endurance. Or in-demon endurance, whatever.”
Timothy’s comment sparked another round of bickering between the two werewolves and Harry shook his head, snickering. It was like listening to Hermione and Ron, only the two werewolves ended their squabbles on friendly terms, not in huffy silences and cold shoulders that could last for days. The two were still making sarcastic, snippy comments to each other as the trio left the cafe, with Harry chipping in with his own comment every now and then. He refused to pick a side but egged them on, amused by their antics.
The werewolves’ squabble came to a premature end when they parted ways in the square. Timothy headed further into Knockturn towards the heart of the werewolves territory, while at Rick’s insistence Harry decided to take the advice Leena had offered earlier and have an early night - the werewolf hinting that doing otherwise would be asking for trouble from the dryad - and Rick accompanied him through the Dark District.
Rick was about to bid Harry goodbye at the entrance to Knockturn when the demon surprised him, grabbing his sleeve and towing him along to the Leaky Cauldron.
“Harry? What are you doing?” asked the confused werewolf. He and Timothy may have escorted Harry back to his room last night but Rick had been under the impression that Harry didn’t mind navigating Diagon Alley alone, especially as the Alley was still open for business. Timothy had never said why Knockturn Alley was an issue beyond the normal wariness that surrounded an inexperienced person navigating the Dark District alone, but he had implied that it was only Knockturn that was a problem.
“Kidnapping you and dragging you to the Leaky Cauldron,” Harry answered cheerfully. “Don’t tell me that you of all people have a problem with someone spontaneously dragging you away?” he teased.
Rick laughed. “Touché. Although I think I prefer being being the kidnapper to being the kidnapee.”
“Ah well, I’ll release you soon,” Harry grinned. “I just need you to confirm where I’ll be tomorrow so I don’t accidentally cause another panic by going missing,” he explained as he pushed open the door to the Leaky Cauldron.
“A panic? Why would it cause a panic? And what do you mean another panic, when did you cause a panic?” Rick asked curiously, but Harry was already talking to Tom at the bar and didn’t answer.
“Hey Tom,” the demon greeted cheerfully. “I just wanted to let you know I won’t be here tomorrow night, or for most of the day after.”
“Oh? Where’ll you be instead, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tom questioned, giving Harry a look he wasn’t sure how to interpret.
“I’m going to the Harpies vs. Wasps match and the night before I’m staying with friends,” Harry explained excitedly, waving a hand towards Rick as he said friends. Rick waved awkwardly, still looking slightly bemused.
“He’s staying with you?” Tom asked Rick, looking at him carefully. Rick nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, me and some of my other family and friends are all going together. Harry will be fine with us and we’ll bring him back in the evening after the match. Well, provided the match doesn’t end up being an epically long one, but that’s not really likely and if it did happen we’d just bring him back at whatever time it finished,” the werewolf reassured.
“Aye, ok lad. Thanks for letting me know, and you lads have fun. It should be a heck of a match,” the bartender said with a nod and a smile.
Harry thanked him and said goodbye to Rick before making his way upstairs with a grin. He couldn’t wait to see his first professional quidditch match!
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The Path Less Traveled