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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter Eight
The Hogwarts letter had been playing over in Harry’s mind. He hadn’t shared it with any of the others yet but only because he doubted that he would be allowed to go to the school on a whim; not without stating good reasons for wanting to go and backing them up with logic. That was the only way he was ever going to make Fenrir see reason.
It had been eight days since he had opened it and decided that he would be going regardless of what the Alpha said, though he had no doubt that it would be easier if he agreed. It had taken Harry that long to figure out what he wanted to say to the Alpha wolf and he was still nervous about going through with asking for permission to go. He was aware that he couldn’t act like a petulant child on the matter, demanding to be allowed to go, he had be thoughtful about how he presented it.
He wanted to do it today before he lost his nerve, however it was now the fourth of October and also Damon’s thirty sixth birthday; the pack was having a celebration of sorts for him and Harry didn’t want to ruin that but he knew that if he didn’t get it over with then he might not ever find the courage. After the full moon, waking up cuddled against an aroused and naked Fenrir, and then their resulting discussion, they had been oddly quiet towards one another. Harry supposed that the Alpha was as happy to avoid their issues as much as he was, at least for now.
Fenrir had let the matter, of what else Harry and his Father had been using to suppress his wolf, slide for the time being, which Harry was grateful for; however the Alpha had been keeping an annoyingly close watch on him since then, even though he was not talking to him. He simply gave Harry the space he needed. The young werewolf was thankful for this because every time his eyes locked with Fenrir’s he couldn’t stop the heated blush that rose up onto his cheeks as he remembered his reaction to the naked Alpha wolf.
Getting into the celebratory spirit, Romy had been decorating the clearing with colourful bunting and balloons all morning, conjuring them from her beech and unicorn hair wand. Damon had not really felt the need to make a thing of the day, but the younger pack members and his sister seemed keen, so he didn’t want to spoil their fun. Callie had gone with Lukas into town so that they could collect a cake. Lukas had needed to get some work done over the morning so the two of them were set to be gone until after lunch; apparently he also needed to buy tea, which none of the others had understood as they already had plenty in their store.
In the meantime Clayton was spending quality time with this Dad, the two of them off going off to do who knew what; Harry hadn’t cared enough to pay attention. Harry, though, suspected that it was just a distraction so that the celebrations could be prepared for.
Jenson too had needed to go into work. His job restoring magical artefacts seemed to be unseasonably busy of late, he had also been receiving some rather odd letters recently regarding a piece of furniture that was supposed to have magical properties but currently wasn’t acting as it was supposed to. The owner of the unspecified object was refusing to bring it in to show him and refused to tell him anymore about it. He had also refused to reveal his identity, which made Jenson highly suspicious that it was an object full of dark magic, something that he wanted to avoid, particularly given the uncertain times.
This had left Micha, Fenrir and Harry in the territory alone, along with Romy, of course, but she was too preoccupied with decorations and barely said anything anyway, so she didn’t really count. Harry liked her, she was smart, she’d read more books than Harry had ever heard off but she was wary of people and Harry had no clue why. Even though the two of them could interact on an intellectual level, with Lukas present, they hadn’t really bonded enough to talk, just the two of them yet.
Harry watched in amusement from his place at the base of his usual tree, as Romy accosted Micha, who had been trying to skilfully avoid her. The older werewolf hadn’t wanted to be dragged into helping with party decorations but Romy, despite her small stature, was not a witch, nor a werewolf, to be trifled with. Harry had watched from a distance with a smile on his face as Romy's eyes had narrowed, her wand pointed directly at Micha and she had threatened to write ‘I love Lukas’ across his forehead if he didn’t help.
It hadn’t escaped her keen notice the obvious flirting that Micha had been doing with the newest member of their pack. She wasn’t adverse to using this to get what she wanted from her stubborn pack brother. It was all Harry could do not to giggle at the two of them as Micha begrudgingly agreed to help and started conjuring twinkling fairy lights to decorate some of the foliage around their clearing.
“Something amusing?” a deep, gruff voice asked as a heavy body sat down beside him. Harry hastily closed his backpack and moved it out of sight before turning to smile faintly at the Alpha wolf, still determinedly not meeting his golden gaze.
“Romy and Micha,” Harry said motioning to where he could see her keeping a watchful eye on him to make sure he wasn’t slacking off and she didn’t have to follow through on her threat.
“Ah yes,” Fenrir grunted, watching the two of them in amusement also. He had taken the opportunity, of most of his pack being otherwise occupied, to come and talk to his young mate for the first time in days. However, now that he was here, he didn’t quite know what to say to him, though just sitting with him was enough for the Alpha. He enjoyed Harry’s company.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Harry began nervously. He began fiddling with the hem of his sleeve as he went over the words in his head, making sure he knew exactly what he was planning on saying so that Fenrir didn’t dismiss his request straight away without thought.
“Go on,” Fenrir said, watching his young mate curiously. His behaviour was odd. Harry wouldn’t look at him, or couldn’t. He seemed nervous, on edge somehow and the Alpha was curious as to what was bothering him.
“The letter that we found at my house,” Harry started and Fenrir nodded to show that he was following even though Harry wasn’t really looking at him. “It said that because I no longer had a formal tutor that I’d been offered a place at Hogwarts.” Fenrir had been about to object to this but Harry was clearly determined and ploughed on. “Now I know, bad idea, but if I ever want to find out what happened to my Dad then I have to do it, I have to go. I’ll never know what happened to him if I just stay here. I wouldn’t be leaving the pack, I mean, Merlin, I’d have nowhere else to go. But I just have to go, to Hogwarts I mean. Albus Dumbledore knows something about what happened to my Dad, I know he does,” Harry finished, finally managing to look up at him with pleading eyes.
Fenrir considered this for a moment. “Can I see the letter?” he asked gruffly and Harry nodded, handing it over to the Alpha without hesitation after digging it out from his backpack. Fenrir scanned the contents and he knew what he had to do. “I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I,” Harry agreed eagerly, not hearing a no and becoming decidedly hopeful that this was a good sign. “I just want some answers.”
“I’ll consider it,” Fenrir said and Harry was just pleased that he hadn’t refused instantly. Having the Alpha agree to think about it was a huge step in the right direction and it made his good mood soar.
Fenrir didn’t like the idea of his mate going somewhere that he wouldn’t be able to protect him. However he could understand the young wolf’s need for answers. This was why he hadn’t disregarded the idea completely. He could see how much Harry wanted it, his desire for answers shining through, giving him a healthy glow that had been lacking in recent days. For that reason and that reason alone he was willing to talk it over with his Beta because if he did permit Harry to go, then he certainly wouldn’t be going alone and unprotected.
FGHP
Dumbledore had been unimpressed that Remus had let Harry slip through their fingers once again, but seemed more or less appeased by the fact that the boy had taken the letter. Remus had very deliberately failed to mention the company that Harry was keeping. He was also keeping his lips very firmly sealed on the matter of Harry’s lycanthropy. He had not even mentioned it to his lover, knowing that Sirius would not take that news well at all and, worse yet, would probably run off to tell Dumbledore without a single moment of hesitation.
Given that it seemed unlikely that Harry would return to Ingleton again, now that he had been to collect a few things and seen the damage that had been done, Dumbledore agree that it would be best for Remus to return to Sirius, who was still living at Grimmauld Place. He had flooed into the old Black house only to find Sirius conspicuously absent; which was most odd given that he was still technically a convict on the run. As far as Remus knew Sirius had nowhere else to go. It was a big house though, and it was entirely possible that there were several rooms that he had failed to check.
Sure enough, about an hour later the missing man had walked into the kitchen where Remus was helping himself to some lunch. Needless to say Sirius had been more than a little delighted to see his best friend and lover; it would be sometime before either of them would be able to look at the kitchen table without thinking some decidedly naughty thoughts.
It had now been almost three weeks since their rather enthusiastic reunion and not only had their relief in being back together worn off but their suspicions in each other were starting to grow. Remus was getting tired of Sirius vanishing at all hours of the day and night, sometimes for hours at a time, with no explanation. He was also busy battling his own demons about whether or not to tell someone about Harry being a werewolf; or perhaps even more crucially, about whether he should enlighten them as to the identity of his Alpha wolf.
Knowing whose care Harry was currently in was giving him nightmares; he had more than once woken up, crying out, as he tried to remind himself that the images of a beaten and mauled Harry weren’t real. Or at least he desperately hoped they weren’t. He was also trying to work out how it had even happened; how had Harry left with the still unidentified man and another teenage boy and then ended up in Fenrir Greyback’s pack. He could only assume that the two unknown people were already affiliated with the feared werewolf and had taken Harry to him.
Not that he had heard anything about Fenrir Greyback even having a pack; it had been generally assumed that he had returned to Voldemort’s side after his return, but that didn’t par with what he had witnessed in Ingleton. The two unknown people seemed to genuinely care for Harry and therefore surely they would have kept him away from Greyback if they feared he would turn the boy over to Voldemort. Not to mention, Harry obviously hadn’t been turned over; given that the Alpha wolf had even gone back to his former home with the boy. It appeared as if they were taking care of him and doing it well.
Remus shook his head, it was all too confusing and no matter how many times he thought it over, it still gave him a headache. None of it made any sense. Greyback was supposed to be a fearless, man killing beast. He was the werewolf that had bitten him as a boy. He couldn’t compare that man with the man he had seen being rather protective of Harry.
But it was Sirius’ secretiveness, his frequent unexplained disappearances that were really bothering him. Remus knew full well that his lover couldn't leave the house, so wherever he was disappearing to do it had to be within the Black family residence. However no matter how many times he asked, Sirius refused to tell him anything and, no matter how much he searched, he still came up empty. After this going on for a number of weeks he was getting hugely annoyed; not to mention worried.
Sirius’ mental state was far from stable and, in truth, Remus wasn’t even really sure that he wanted to know what was going on in those missing hours; but when it came down to it he did love Sirius, he wanted them to work out and he wasn’t ready to give up on them yet.
“Where were you?!” Remus demanded; slamming his book shut as Sirius casually strolled into the library where the werewolf had been trying to distract himself, unsuccessfully, by reading. He had been gone even longer than usual and had missed dinner, leaving Remus to eat alone.
Sirius however seemed in a good mood and entirely unconcerned about his lover’s frustrated and almost angry tone. “I was busy,” he simply stated, dropping himself into a chair not far from the one Remus was sat in.
“Busy?” Remus asked in disbelief. “You were gone for two hours, Sirius!” he said through gritted teeth. “I love you but I am getting tired of these secrets, what in Merlin’s name is going on?”
“Secrets? You want to talk about secrets?!” Sirius yelled suddenly, jumping back to his feet and pacing erratically around the seating area, “How about those nightmares? Hmmm?” he demanded in a breathy whisper as he rounded on Remus with an insane glint in his eyes, and a twitchy smile on his lips, “the ones you won’t talk about.”
Remus blanched, the colour draining from his cheeks as Sirius came forward towards his lover who had remained sat down trying not to panic at Sirius’ sudden burst of anger. He couldn’t tell his lover about Harry and Greyback, it would surely snap those fragile threads that were all that remained of the man’s sanity.
“They are just nightmares, Sirius,” Remus said quietly, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.
“I don’t believe you,” Sirius whispered in Remus’ ear, before placing a kiss on his temple. He pushed himself away from the chair and turned his back on his lover.
“Sirius, I just want to know where you are going to…” Remus said in a soft voice.
“And I want to know what your nightmares are about!” Sirius snarled, turning back to face him with narrowed eyes, “seems neither of us is going to be getting what we want.”
Remus sighed, “They are just bad dreams…”
“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!” Sirius yelled suddenly, taking a step closer to Remus, his fists clenched and his whole body tense. Remus stared at him in speechless surprise for a few seconds before Sirius turned and stormed out of the room.
Remus pinched his eyes closed for a second, his hands tightly gripping the arms of the chair, as he took calming breaths, as he tried to work out when he had started being scared of Sirius? 'When you stopped being able to predict him', a little knowing voice in his head answered. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as he realised he wasn’t sure their relationship could survive this, no matter how much, or how long he had loved his lifelong friend. They had both changed, their years apart altering their relationship irreversibly. Azkaban had changed Sirius and not for the better, he wasn’t the man that Remus had fallen in love with all those years ago.
FGHP
Severus was fairly sure his shoulder was dislocated, not that it hurt any more or less than the other innumerable injuries that covered his body. His eyes were both so swollen that it was difficult to see out of them; he supposed it was the next best thing to being able to close them. His brain was foggy and he found thinking difficult as the same nightmarish memories went through his mind repeatedly.
He vaguely wondered if it had been a deliberate choice that Black had made to remove the silencing spells when he left, so that Severus could hear what was going on in the house; it wasn’t as though Severus could make even the tiniest of sounds. It meant that he knew that Lupin had returned but he rarely heard much, so he assumed it was just the three of them.
It wasn’t as though Severus could bring himself to care that the werewolf was in the house, but it did give him occasion to wonder if the secret of his imprisonment had been revealed to Lupin; no one other than Black ever visited him, so he assumed not. In his more lucid moments he found himself curious as to why.
Not wanting to think about two of the people who had made his childhood a misery, he tried to focus on Harry; his son Harry; his precious Harry. Even that was difficult when it felt like every good memory he had ever had was locked just out of reach. Harry is real, he reminded himself when the now usual doubts crept in, Harry is real, he is my son.
He thought that Black had been there recently, hitting and kicking him, but he wasn’t even sure of that anymore. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours, it all seemed the same to him. He could hear voices now, angry voices. He focused on them, it was almost a relief to hear them as though it was a reminder that the rest of the world was still out there, beyond this prison made of his own battered flesh and blood.
“You were gone for two hours, Sirius! I love you but I am getting tired of these secrets, what in Merlin’s name is going on?”
Ah, so Lupin doesn’t know, Severus thought to himself. The declaration of love made his stomach churn with revulsion, and reminded him of a time, soon after Lupin had shown up, when he had had no choice but to listen to them take their carnal pleasure with each other. He had thought that perhaps a punch to the head might have been a more welcome form of torture than listening to that again. Severus felt a vindictive pleasure in hearing the anger in the werewolf’s tone, glad that things were not all peachy for those that had obliterated the beautiful life he and Harry had had.
“Secrets? You want to talk about secrets?!” Black asked dangerously. Could Lupin not hear how unhinged he had become?
The voices went quiet, or at least too quiet for him to hear and he mourned the sudden loss of the only entertainment he had had since his bizarre incarceration. He was left alone in his mind again; longing to stretch his muscles; longing to be able to move even a tiny bit; longing to close his eyes. But more than that, needing to believe that Harry was safe from harm and that it wasn’t all for naught.
“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!”
Black’s bellowing voice carried through the house, followed by a slamming of a door and Severus would have smiled if he could. He hoped Black would lose himself the one person possibly stupid enough to love him. Even Remus Lupin’s patience and sappy heart wouldn’t hold on forever. If only Black might become foolish enough, then he might be able to make eye contact and then he’d be able to discover how much they knew about Harry, find out if he was safe.
FGHP
Four days after Harry had initially asked about going to Hogwarts in search of answers, Fenrir had finally reached his decision and also decided what he needed to tell Harry. He had had a discussion with Damon, and Jenson as well; they both needed to be informed on the matter as he intended on allowing Harry to go but only if Clayton and Romy would go too. They were the only other two pack members of the right age to be enrolling in the school and Fenrir wanted as many of the Pack with his mate as possible, considering the fact that he could not go with him. Fenrir could, as Alpha, order the two other pups to go with Harry, of course, but decided it was best if he at least discussed it with their adoptive Fathers before making his final decision.
He knew that it meant a lot to Harry to go in search of answers, he didn’t like the idea of his little mate being away from him but the Alpha knew that Harry would never be happy or be able to settle with the pack until he had the information he was so desperately seeking. Fenrir found that he could understand this, thinking back to the answers he had yearned for after the loss of this first pack and mate. The deciding factor however had been when Fenrir had spoken to Lukas, who remained the only pack member who regularly spoke to Harry and who Harry actually sought out for casual conversation.
Lukas hadn’t wanted to but after some prompting he had told Fenrir that mainly, when the two of them weren’t discussing academics, Harry was reminiscing about being tutored at home by his Father and how much he missed him.
The others were busy preparing dinner when Fenrir called Harry over to him; Callie and Romy being the two doing the actual cooking, though, in fairness to Jenson and Lukas, they were watching in an attempt to learn. They couldn’t have the two females being the only two members of the pack who could prepare food without killing the rest of them. Harry’s heart had practically skipped a beat when he heard the Alpha call his name and summon him over so that they could talk.
“You can go,” Fenrir said the moment that they were far enough away from the rest of the group and instantly Harry’s eyes went wide in shock, thinking that the Alpha had finally come to his senses and wanted Harry to leave the pack. The inappropriate glances and imaginings had finally disgusted the Alpha enough that he was asking him to leave.
“I can go?” he asked, hoping that Fenrir didn’t mean what he thought. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, as panic rolled through him. He didn’t know what he would do if he really was being kicked out of the pack. With Aurors chasing him he couldn’t go home. Damon and Clayton were the only two people he knew and they would stay with the pack; and even with his and Clay’s friendship on the rocks he didn’t want to be away from him. He felt a little nauseous at the realisation of just how little he had outside of the pack, no matter how uncomfortable he felt here.
Harry was on the verge of hyperventilating when Fenrir said, “Yes, you can go to Hogwarts. But there are conditions.” The Alpha’s voice was stern, making sure that his little mate was listening by getting, and maintaining, eye contact; though he missed the sigh of relief that Harry let out when he realised that he wasn’t being asked to leave the pack. Golden orbs focused on emerald and they just looked at each other. “Clayton and Romy will be going with you.” Harry nodded, willing to accept any reasonable condition that Fenrir gave now that he wasn’t being asked to leave. “All three of you will return to pack territory for each full moon, if we have to tell Dumbledore what you are, then so be it.” Again Harry nodded. “And the minute you have the answers you need you’ll be coming home, do you understand?”
Harry was grinning from ear to ear, the Alpha hadn’t seen him so happy since arriving at the pack. Fenrir thought that the smile suited his beautiful little mate, it was certainly an improvement on the frowning and sulking that he had done for the first few weeks. It was this expression that made him realise that he had done the right thing in allowing Harry to go to Hogwarts, even if he was still a little uneasy about it.
What happened next shocked the both of them. So overwhelmed with his gratitude Harry just didn’t think about what he was doing until it was too late. He flung his arms around Fenrir’s neck and hugged him. Startled, the Alpha wasn’t sure what to do, though this only lasted a few split seconds before his arms wrapped around his mate's smaller frame, returning the embrace. His nose buried in the raven locks, inhaling the scent that so intoxicated him.
Suddenly realising what he was doing Harry gasped, releasing his Alpha and looking abashed, trying to step back but Fenrir kept his hands firmly planted on the younger boy's hips. Harry’s breathing accelerated at their proximity to one another. As golden eyes met emerald green the younger wolf bit his lip nervously.
“Thank you,” he murmured softly. Fenrir kept staring as Harry tore himself from the Alpha’s grasp and hurried back off to the clearing where Callie was beginning to serve up the dinner.
FGHP
Her second son was now twelve days old, nearly two whole weeks, and she was not really sure if she was more relieved or insulted that Lucius had yet to even lay eyes upon the small boy. Narcissa, on the other hand, couldn’t bear to be apart from new-born Abraxus; certainly not with all the dangerous and unpredictable Deatheaters who had access to her home at present. Of course, she was confident that the wards on the nursery would hold and as such she had taken up residence in there; it wasn’t as though she would miss sharing a bed with her darling husband. He certainly didn’t appear to be missing her.
It had been a simple enough task to have a house-elf move all her belongings and that left her with little reason to ever leave her and little Abraxus’ sanctuary. She was sat at her writing desk with the recently fed and grizzling baby in the crook of her arm, singing a lullaby in quite, gentle tones. It was the same lullaby that she had sung to Draco when he was a baby. The two boys were surprisingly alike, even considering they were siblings, and she hoped her second son was every bit as wonderful as Draco had grown up to be.
She smiled as she thought about her first born and pulled over a piece of parchment; they weren’t able to communicate often and she had not sent him a letter since the day of his brother’s birth. Narcissa wished the three of them could be together, but that wouldn’t be possible just yet; if they wanted to all get through the coming years alive they would have to tread with great care in all matters.
Now though, Narcissa wanted to send Draco a picture of his brother; she had had a loyal house-elf help her take and develop it. Draco had replied to her previous correspondence saying that surely the two of them couldn’t look quite as alike as she had claimed; she believed he was likely just angling for a photograph, which she was more than happy to provide.
Narcissa had barely addressed the letter to Draco when there was an impatient knock on the door which made her jump. She cuddled the almost sleeping little boy against her tighter as she stopped her humming of the lullaby that she had absent-mindedly slipped into. She had hoped that perhaps it was Lucius, come to finally see his second son, but, alas, it wouldn’t be.
“Cissy! Let me in…” Bellatrix’s voice carried through the door, slightly muffled by the wards.
Narcissa let out a breath she hadn’t meant to hold, her older sister might be insane and have fallen in love with completely the wrong… person, but Narcissa was equally sure that she would not harm either her or Abraxus; not without the Dark Lord ordering it at least. If he ordered it then it wouldn’t matter that they were sisters, she would only want to please the man she loved and, should that happen, then no degree of warding would protect them from his wrath. She doubted any wards in the world would keep out the Dark Lord.
She carefully got from her chair and relaxed the wards enough to permit Bellatrix, alone, entry into the nursery, before she pulled the door open cautiously.
“Cissy,” Bellatrix greeted, sweeping past her sister, into the room, without even looking at her.
“Bella,” Narcissa returned, cradling her son closer to her instinctively.
“Why do you hide from our Lord, sister? Why do you hide in here away from me?” Bella asked with what seemed like genuine curiosity as her eyes dashed over the room, taking it all in, before finally landing on Narcissa and then Abraxus. “Oooh, the baby, why did Lucius not say?” she cooed in a rather disturbing manner, licking her lips as she stepped towards them, her fingers twitching, apparently unable to stay still as though she wanted to grab out.
“His name is Abraxus Cygnus,” Narcissa told her softly, but not loosening her grip one iota and ignoring the question regarding her wayward and absent husband.
“Oh what a good little pure-blood he will be with that name, just like our Father,” Bellatrix said, pleased that he had a name from his Black family heritage as well as his Malfoy one. She reached out a finger to run over his barely-there blond hair. “Two little pure-blooded boys, you must be so proud, Cissy.”
There was a definite tone of longing in her voice and her fingers still seemed itching to snatch the little boy for herself. Narcissa had always assumed that Bellatrix didn’t have a maternal bone in her body, but apparently something had changed that. She was just getting ready to ask her about it when Bellatrix’s face formed her usual sly grin and Narcissa knew the moment had passed.
“Talking of your boys, Cissy, is Draco any closer to proving himself?”
“I believe so but we haven’t spoken much aside from informing him of his brothers birth,” Narcissa told her.
“If it was my son…”
“Well he isn’t, you don’t have a son,” Narcissa interrupted irritably, “Draco will succeed, you’ll see.”
“He will have to, it would be such a shame if he was too weak,” Bellatrix said thoughtfully, glaring hatefully at her sister for her off the cuff remark about her not having a son. “Well at least you have a spare now, just in case” she added breaking into an insane grin and letting out a little cackling laugh as though she believed this truly was marvellous news.
“I am sure Lucius would agree with you,” Narcissa said dryly, hating the truth of those words, the truth in what Bella said stung. “Not that he’s seen his spare heir yet,” she added bitterly.
FGHP
Dumbledore was getting his way and everything was coming together just as he had planned. He had received his reply from Harry and the boy would be coming to Hogwarts. Of course, he hadn’t expected for two other students to be joining him, nor for all three of his new students to be werewolves and to have certain conditions for coming to the school. To say that he had been stunned to learn of Harry’s lycanthropy would be an understatement, though admittedly it did explain some of the contents of the Ingleton house a little better.
The headmaster scanned the letter he had received. There was no name attached to the response, it was simply signed ‘Pack Alpha’. Whoever this Alpha was, he was claiming legal guardianship over Harry under werewolf legislation that declared werewolf packs to be a family. The Alpha was apparently more than happy for Harry to come to Hogwarts as long as two other of the younger pack members joined him and that permission was granted for all three to return to pack territory on the nights of the full moon.
Considering he was responsible for the safety of the other students at the school, Dumbledore didn’t have a problem with this. It would certainly solve a problem for him, considering he couldn’t very well put three students in the shrieking shack with Remus Lupin, whom he had asked to return to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts come January. The man was an adequate teacher but in truth he had only asked to get him out of Grimmauld Place. Sirius had reported that Remus was starting to get suspicious, asking difficult questions, and the headmaster thought it inadvisable to allow him to discover Severus. Not yet at least. The man had a conscience and that wasn’t compatible with Albus’ plans.
The third condition for Harry coming to the school was another easy request to fill. Secrecy regarding Harry’s lycanthropy. Albus didn’t want anyone else to know about that, anymore than the Alpha wolf did. It wouldn’t do for the wizarding world to know that their saviour was a werewolf, not with the general public’s feelings towards the creatures, thinking them vicious killing machines. Albus was half inclined to agree with the general consensus about the creatures but begrudgingly, he would accept all three conditions because it meant that he would be seen as being cooperative, while simultaneously it would mean he would get his own way; and Albus Dumbledore liked getting his own way.
However, there was something nagging him at the back of his mind. He had sent Remus to watch over the Ingleton house and the werewolf had seen Harry returning with another, apparently unknown, man and yet he had failed to recognize either of them as his own kind. Albus knew that werewolves had a strong sense of smell, all of their senses were heightened, and it didn’t seem plausible that Remus hadn’t known. Dumbledore would have to have words with Lupin, question him about why he hadn’t known, or else why he had simply failed to inform him.
In the meantime, now that Albus knew for certain that his little hero would be coming back into the wizarding world where he belonged, the headmaster could focus his energy on other things. He had a few unique items to find. His theory was so far proving to be correct but it was still a theory. He still had to prove it and that was what he intended on doing. If he could prove it then it could be the key to the undoing of Tom Riddle.
He also had his precious school to consider. The tyrant that was Dolores Umbridge was slowly taking over. The punishments she was doling out to students unsavoury and the new school rules preposterous. Her Deatheater bodyguards ever present at her side. He didn’t care about the three unwelcome additions to his school too much. They were of little importance because regardless of the punishments and new regulations he was still in charge, but they were a nuisance.
What truly mattered was that his teachers were still loyal to him and the school remained under his control; it would take more than the petty meddling of Dolores Umbridge to change that. If he so desired it then he could force them to leave, however he had no desire to do this yet. To force Umbridge and the Carrow siblings from the school, while they were under the guise as being Ministry employees, would send the most unwelcome message that Hogwarts had broken away from the Ministry of Magic.
Even though Albus refused to have any connection with the Ministry, it was still the assumption of the general public that he did and that the Ministry remained untouched by dark magic. Dumbledore knew better but it was still not common knowledge. The Order knew, of course; they all saw the signs that the Ministry had fallen under the control of Tom Riddle but the rest of the wizarding world chose not to see, not wanting to think about it. So far Voldemort was doing nothing more than recruiting. There were a few disappearances, a handful of murders but then there always were. Dumbledore was confident that he would be able to bring down Riddle, especially now that he had Harry Potter back in the fold.
Once he had proven his theory then the boy would be an important instrument to use in destroying them all and finally taking down Riddle. It wouldn’t matter if he was a werewolf, part of a pack or even a reincarnation of Merlin himself. Harry Potter would be brought to heel and forced into his destiny whether he wanted it or not.
FGHP
Harry had found himself in an alarmingly good mood since Fenrir had agreed to let him go to Hogwarts. He had even been making a real effort with some of the less boisterous members of the pack. Harry had taken to watching every day as Callie and Romy prepared all the pack’s meal and, having now reached a point where he thought he was familiar with how the girls liked things done, he had decided to offer to lend a hand.
His Dad had never been much of a chef, but Harry was a good student and read up on cooking, teaching himself with ease; and so it was that, as soon as he was old enough, Harry had taken over most of their meal preparation, initially with supervision, of course. Severus had been so proud of his young son when Harry had been able to place that first completely self-cooked meal on the table with a broad grin and sparkling green eyes full of joy. Since then Harry had never gone so long without cooking, as he had since joining the pack. Callie and Romy looked sceptical when he asked to help but he assured them that he wasn't a bad cook and actually rather enjoyed it.
Micha had made a joke about how Harry couldn’t be as bad a cook as the rest of the men. Romy apparently didn’t approve because she had then hit him over the head with the heavy book in her hand and told him it was just laziness not incompetence, before panicking and checking the hardback cover for damage from Micha’s ‘dense head’.
Harry had to repress his laugh as Micha snuck away with a putout look on his face and rubbing his sore head. Lukas had looked up with disapproval at the rather loud ‘clunk’ and while he didn’t approve of the misuse of literature, in this case he felt he could make an exception; perhaps a knock to the head might do the other werewolf some good.
Romy had given an apologetic smile and assured Lukas that his book had suffered no permanent harm; promising to utilise something like the sturdy cookware for any such occasions in the future. Satisfied that the youngest pack member wasn’t going to make a habit of abusing the texts he was loaning her, he turned back to his own book.
Harry didn’t bother to hide his smile when Romy turned back to him and told him that he was quite welcome to help Callie with the next meal. They all knew they would never let Micha near the food while it was being prepared; meal related pranks were not a good idea. Besides his last attempt at helping had resulted in him somehow managing to make a simple salad taste as if he'd put ash on it.
Damon had already forbidden Clayton from helping, not that the teen seemed even a tiny bit offended or upset about this. Lukas could only just manage beans on toast without burning it, despite the numerous books he had read on the subject over the years in an attempt to learn. Fenrir had never so much as attempted to cook in his life, much preferring to hunt than to cook. Jenson loved his mates cooking too much to interfere, at least that was his excuse. It was his favourite time of day watching her take charge of cooking the dinner. It was a huge turn on for him. Just as watching Romy help her, was a point of great pride.
Harry had been so desperate to prove himself in regards to preparing meals, thinking that it wasn’t fair on the two women of the pack to have to be in solely charge of it, that he had thrown himself into the task without a single moment of hesitation. He seemed to come alive with it, chatting to both Callie and Romy as if it were completely normal to be preparing food with them and had done so many times previously. Both of the women were shocked when Harry, without second thought, started to tell them all about how he had done this at home with his Dad, because Severus, despite being a wonderful potions master, couldn’t cook to save his life either and how up until Harry had started to help cook they’d lived off canned goods and pasta.
Fenrir looked on with warmth in his heart as his little mate smiled and talked as he chopped up vegetables for the stew. He truly belonged here and slowly he was starting to integrate into the pack as he should have done when he first arrived over a month ago. It was hard to believe that he’d been here for five weeks already. Even though he was starting to accept his life here, the Alpha could see that the young wolf was still in a great deal of pain, it was there for all to see whenever you looked into his eyes. He couldn’t hide everything behind that a smile.
Harry was in fact so busy talking to Romy about the book she was reading, Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms, so involved in the conversation, that the stew on the fire had started to bubble over. With a low spoken profanity Harry grabbed at the pot with his bare hands, removing it from the flames. He did it without thinking and the reaction that it got was instantaneous.
Fenrir was on his feet and grabbing at his mate the moment he smelt burning flesh. Gripping his wrists tightly and making him release the large pot, which fell to the floor on its side, tipping the contents onto the ground. Harry made to protest, trying to save their meal, but he was the only one. Callie and Romy were making noises of panic, as Fenrir turned Harry’s hands palm up and showed him the already developing blisters.
“Oh …” Harry said in shock, “It doesn’t hurt. I didn’t even feel it.”
“How could you not feel THAT!?” Romy asked in obvious alarm, to which Harry just shrugged; Lukas and Callie struck dumb with horror at the sight of blisters that were growing in size before their eyes, the skin around them an angry red. The rest of the pack had now begun gravitating towards the fire to see what all the commotion was about.
“Silver poisoning wouldn’t do that,” Fenrir growled in annoyance, not letting go of his mates wrists, his grip bruisingly tight, Harry struggled to get him to let go but the Alpha was clearly enraged about the situation and refused, wanting to keep a firm hold on his injured mate.
“Let go, please, it doesn’t hurt,” Harry insisted again, “I’m fine.” He was more in shock than anything else but he could feel the pressure around his wrists, an odd tingle in his palms but there was no pain to speak off. He could see the damage that had been done but he still couldn’t understand why they were all making such a fuss. He had never really felt much in the way of pain, even as a young child. He had put it down to his werewolf traits but clearly it had been wrong for him to do so.
“FINE?!” Fenrir roared.
“Harry, look,” Callie said, coming and trying to pry the Alpha’s vice-like grip off him a little, seeing that Harry was clearly distressed by it.“You clearly aren’t fine. Not only are you badly burnt but not being able to feel that is very worrying.”
“What did you do to yourself?!” Fenrir demanded in a deep warning tone. He had had enough of waiting for Harry to be ready to give them the answers. This was too much, he couldn’t allow his mate to accidentally injure himself and not even notice.
“Nothing!” Harry insisted, “It was just the silver!”
“YOU’RE LYING!” Fenrir yelled, releasing his wrists and instead taking a grip on his mate's hair to turn Harry’s avoiding gaze back to meet his eyes. His instincts as Alpha told him he had to punish Harry for outright lying to him; mate or not, he wouldn’t be disrespected in such away. He had given the younger wolf enough free passes where his behaviour was concerned, he needed to learn to fall in line like the others.
“PROVE IT THEN!” Harry snapped, glaring up into furious golden orbs as Fenrir continued to fist a handful of his hair, forcing them to maintain the eye contact. He was challenging the Alpha to find even a shred of evidence that he had been doing anything else other than just locking himself in the silver cage. Of course he couldn’t, Harry had been so very careful to hide his potions, even as he continued to take them at a fraction of the correct dosage.
“Alpha….” Damon said hesitantly, not wanting to risk interfering but equally worried that Harry might push Fenrir’s temper too far. This was not how they would get answers from the teenager and it would certainly do any favours, as far as Harry’s trust in their leader went. No one wanted for Harry to retreat back into his shell and refuse to talk to anyone again. Damon knew Harry well, after watching him grow up he ought to have. He knew that Fenrir’s actions would only bring out the teenagers stubborn refusal to cooperate and make things even more difficult for all of them.
“Let me go!” Harry demanded, his comparatively small fingers trying to pry Fenrir’s larger ones from his hair. He wanted to run, to get away from the domineering male, feeling a little scared about what he was capable of. Harry was smaller, weaker in comparison. It wasn’t the first time that he had thought the Alpha might snap him like a twig, however he hadn’t considered that it might be in a rage.
There was a small part of him that just wanted to confess it all, so that they might understand, but he was so certain that Fenrir’s reaction to that would make even this seem like child’s play, that he didn’t think he would ever dare to. The looks of concern on the faces of his pack mates gathered around them tore at his insides, filling Harry with guilt that it was his secret that was causing them such worry. He might only just be getting to know most of them, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t come to care about them all.
“Not until you tell me the truth,” Fenrir growled.
“You’re hurting me,” Harry lied, his burnt and blistered fingers still trying to pry at the Alpha’s grip. He was not against using emotional blackmail to get what he wanted. Truthfully the werewolf’s grip was painless. It wasn’t all that weird for him, but their alarmed expressions were what was worrying him, if he was honest with himself.
“You can feel that but not the burns?” Damon asked curiously.
Harry said nothing, glaring at the Alpha in defiance. “Answer him,” Fenrir demanded.
“I can feel it, and… Well it should hurt!” Harry bit back in anger, feeling quite humiliated at being manhandled and called a liar by the Alpha in front of the whole pack.
“But it doesn’t?” Fenrir asked, more in fear than anger now, loosening his grip slightly on his young mate.
Harry took his chance; pulling himself free, he ducked under the Alpha’s arm and started to run for his usual tree, needing to be away from them all. Damon made a grab for him and managed to wrap an arm around his waist, but when Harry looked up at him with tear filled eyes and mouthed ‘please’, he reluctantly allowed the boy to go, trusting that he wouldn’t attempt to leave the territory.
“Something’s wrong, seriously wrong,” Callie said softly, watching the teen run to the other side of the territory, to his place of safety, where he curled up on himself, facing away from them.
“Whatever he’s been doing, he’s been doing it for years, this is normal for him,” Damon said to the worried looks that the rest of the pack had. Fenrir couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from Harry.
“That bastard Father of his poisoned him with something more than silver, I am sure of it,” Fenrir said with barely restrained anger, every inch of him tensing as he tried to control his breathing, wanting to let a roar of anguish rip from his lungs at the thought of his mate being poisoned in this way. If the man wasn’t already dead then he would have had the overwhelming urge to track and kill him for what he had done to Harry.
“Severus loved Harry, he wouldn’t have deliberately…” Damon said in an attempt to defend his friend. He would never believe that Severus would have wanted this for his son, that he could have done anything to put Harry into harm’s way.
“I never said it was deliberate,” Fenrir interrupted. “I have come to understand that he probably meant well,” he admitted, “but still; he acted with a wizard’s stupidity in things he knew nothing about.”
“Do you suppose it was that Wolfsbane potion they have?” Clayton asked, he knew a little about the subject, having known Severus too.
“No, that wouldn’t be as extreme as this, this is something else, something worse.” Damon responded to his son’s question.
“Wasn’t his father a potions master?” Callie asked
“You think Severus made him a specific potion? Why would he have done that and then given it to Harry without knowing all the risks and side effects?” Damon asked.
“Because he was a fool!” Fenrir growled.
“Or because he was desperate,” Jenson said, speaking up for the first time. He knew what it was like to take drastic action to help a child in need; he had come to the pack that night with Romy knowing it might mean both their deaths and he had hardly known her, they hadn’t had a chance to bond yet, when he made the decision and put their lives on the line to save her.
“I don’t care!” Fenrir grunted, “We need to fix him.”
“My Alpha, please, it isn’t going to be that easy,” Callie tried to explain, “we don’t even know what he’s taken; and that is assuming it is even a potion, or that it can be undone at all. But I will do what I can,” she added quickly.
“I don’t care! We fix whatever it is that’s been done to him!” Fenrir insisted again, his tone heated, his anger bubbling, almost ready to boil over.
“Alpha … we all know that you care for him …” Damon said and the instant these words had left his mouth he regretted them. He hadn’t thought before speaking and the look of fury that the Alpha was giving him made him realise what was coming next.
Fenrir, enraged at Damon for bringing his feelings into his, turned on his Beta, grabbing hold of his neck with a fierce grip, growling in warning. He was not going to have his Beta wolf make him out to be weak or portray Harry as a weakness. He was the Alpha, he wouldn’t stand for his subordinates acting this way.
Jenson had been a werewolf in a pack long enough to know how quickly even a small disagreement between the Alpha and Beta of a pack could spiral out of control, and like hell he was going to stand there and let any of the pack’s pups get hurt, let alone his adoptive daughter. He wrapped a firm arm around Romy’s waist, easily lifting her up, despite her protests, and then took a firm grip on the back of Clay’s neck and made quick work of removing both of them from the situation. He was glad to see that Callie too had had the sense to move out of the way.
“We need to move,” Micha whispered to Lukas, and it was the seriousness of his tone that made the newest pack member obey without question. He knew that Micha had spent his whole life dealing with pack dynamics, now was not the time to doubt him. It seemed the other wolf had been right because when he looked back at Damon and Fenrir, the Alpha had his hand round his Beta’s throat and was growling his dominance.
Harry turned to look at the rest of them at the sound of Romy’s protesting shouts and that was when he saw that Fenrir had Damon by the throat and all he could think was that it was his fault. The Alpha and the Beta were both large men and the sight of them locked together, preparing to fight was terrifying to behold.
Harry still clutched at the bottle of dittany that he had taken from his backpack to treat the blisters on his hand, one of which had burst during his struggle with Fenrir who had refused to let him go. It still didn’t hurt. He wished he had had the forethought to take some bruise salve from his Dad’s store cupboard, as where Fenrir had grabbed at him fiercely around the wrists was already starting to purple.
Clayton was screaming and shouting, struggling against Jenson as he tried to reach his Dad, wanting to help him. Micha had to help restrain him as Lukas stood with Callie, who held Romy protectively against her, he wanted to make sure that neither of the women were caught in the crossfire.
Harry watched, horrified as Fenrir seemed to pick Damon up by the throat with only one hand as if he were no heavier than a rag doll and slam his body forcefully into the ground. Harry swore that as Damon’s large body came into contact with the floor he felt a tremor beneath his feet. He dropped the bottle of dittany, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth in shock at what he was seeing.
Harry had fooled himself into believing that the attractive Alpha male had some tenderness about him, he had been so stupid to believe this. Looking at him now, this was the real Fenrir, he was feral and more beast than human. The man who had taken him back to Ingleton, held him as he had cried over the wreckage that was his bedroom, he wasn’t real. The man who had agreed to let him go back to Hogwarts and had seemingly cared how he was feeling, he was a figment of Harry’s imagination, he could see that now.
Damon submitted completely, rearing back his head, exposing his throat and baring his belly to his Alpha as a form of apology for what he had said, whimpering. Fenrir gave a final, violent growl before releasing him. He then turned to the rest of his pack, he could see the fear on their faces, the tears that were streaming down Clay’s cheeks as he fought against Jenson, who held him back. Callie, cradling Romy close to her. He then turned his gaze to Harry who had come forward but still stood back from the rest of the pack and he looked nothing short of terrified.
The Alpha’s keen eyes could see the bruising marks on Harry’s wrists and he knew that he had been the one to cause them, he had hurt his mate, scaring his entire pack in the process. He might have felt something at the sight of the bruises but other than that he wasn’t sorry. He wouldn’t have his Beta challenging him, whether he had meant it or not.
Jenson finally let Clay go and the young wolf ran to his Dad, who was already getting to his feet, seemingly unharmed by the exchange. “I am sorry, My Alpha,” Damon said with a low nod of his head as he pulled his obviously shaken teenage son into his tight embrace. Fenrir grunted his acceptance of this before turning and heading to where they chopped the firewood. He had a lot of pent up aggression that he needed to get rid of before he spoke to any of them again; it was one thing to assert his rightful dominance as Alpha, but he did not wish to take any more of his anger out on the pack.
With Damon’s apology the tension began to ease. None of them, apart from Harry, thought much more on the matter. It was always bound to happen with so many dominant males in the group. Those who had been in packs before knew that fighting was par for the course and wouldn’t split the pack, not unless the Alpha was challenged for his position, something that Damon would never attempt to do. Micha had already lived through a struggle for dominance once, he had no desire to do so again. Although, with this being the first power struggle the pack had experienced, it had left them all a little shaken.
Harry however had seen enough and he was sure that he didn’t want to be here anymore. Despite his attraction to the older man, he was scared of him too. Harry didn’t want to be around him, not when he had the capability to hurt him. Even if Harry couldn’t feel pain he could see the bruises forming on his wrists and was aware that they should hurt, he knew that they had been caused by the strong and powerful Alpha without him even thinking.
Even as the Alpha watched, Harry turned and huddled back into his place of sanctuary, his tree. So much for all the progress they had made with one another.
FGHP
Draco stared at the letter in his hand again; it was from his mother and he had reread it many times in the week since it had arrived. He pulled the picture out of the envelope and smiled at the only image he had of his little brother, Abraxus Cygnus Malfoy. Draco shook his head; what on earth was his mother thinking with that name. He knew that they were the names of his two grandfathers but he would be finding a suitable abbreviation whether his parents approved of it or not; that was surely his prerogative as an older brother. Brax maybe, he thought with a crooked smile, thinking of the day he would finally get to hold the little boy.
His smile slipped though, as he looked up from where he had sat himself on the floor opposite the large magical cabinet. He hadn’t even bothered trying to move it from the room where he had found it; it wasn’t as though there was a more suitable location he could think of and at least here he, himself, was well hidden too.
The whole thing was maddening and frustrating to the highest degree. His mother and baby brother were on the other end of the cabinet’s broken magical connection and yet he couldn’t even complete the one simple task of repairing it. He glared at the stack of decidedly unhelpful textbooks at his side, borrowed from the school library and kept in the come-and-go room, so that people wouldn’t ask difficult questions. People seemed to like asking him difficult questions at the moment, whether it was teachers asking why his grades had dropped, Umbridge querying why he had missed so many meals, or supposed friends interrogating him about his unexplained absences.
Thirty six. That was how many days he had failed and now the sun outside was settling on yet another day of failure. He had been so foolish to think that he was smart enough, that he was powerful enough to fix the cabinet’s magic, which was so badly broken that it had been discarded and forgotten. He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his head on his knees, trying to think about what else to try.
He had even written to several professionals in the hope of at least being pointed in the right direction. Of course, without being able to tell them the details of the cabinet, or even his own name, they were less than willing to assist him; one or two of them had offered to help him discreetly if he would only bring the item to them but it wasn’t as though that was a realistic option. Options, that was exactly what he was short on and it was driving him crazy.
His mother was counting on him; almost three week old Brax was counting on him. Draco knew that the two of them would likely have to remain at the manor even if he did fix it, but at least he would be able to rest easier knowing that they had a viable escape route. Even the concept of escape seemed somewhat hopeless, it wasn’t like their supposed headmaster even seemed to care for the safety of the students.
Draco was fairly sure he wasn’t even in the school a lot of the time and the blond was starting to wonder if Dumbledore was going to just let the Dark Lord take Hogwarts without a fight. He dreaded to think what would happen to all the students should that ever happen. Though perhaps it would be for the best because if Albus Dumbledore was no longer headmaster then maybe he wouldn’t be expected to kill the old man anymore. Draco didn’t think that he would ever be able to take a life … at least not without good reason.
On the other hand, the anger he felt towards the headmaster, who was seemingly abandoning so many school children into the care of two Deatheaters and a truly monstrous woman, would, at least, make it easier if it did come to that, if he had to murder him in the end. If he had to choose between the lives of his mother and brother, and that of the old headmaster, it was barely a choice at all; he would protect his family, it wasn’t like anyone else would.
- 7
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- 9
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Fragmented Soul