Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Path Less Traveled	By : bezo93 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 16680 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: This is the last of the pre-written chapters. Also, something I forgot to mention in the first chapter's note (there is always something): I intend for my Creatures to be Creatures, not just humans with some quirky mating habits, which means they have different diets and behaviours to humans, i.e. vampires drink blood, wendigoes eat humans etc. and the Creature District provides for all types of diet. In other words, in this chapter human is literally on the menu (though nobody actually gets eaten) and such things will crop up again. It is only really mentioned in passing but the squemish have been warned.

It was several hours later that Harry rejoined Rick at his table in Leena’s coffee shop. Alexander had offered to buy Harry a coffee and had spent a little while chatting with him, getting to know one another a little better. Unfortunately he hadn’t been able to stay long and left as soon as he had finished his drink. Harry had extracted a promise to owl him before letting the dominant go (not that getting the dominant to agree had been difficult).
Since then he had been picking dominants at random and going over to introduce himself. Some conversations were over before they had barely begun, Harry knowing quickly that he and the dominant would never get along well enough to be mates. Others lasted longer before Harry found himself rejecting them as prospective mates, sometimes for reasons he himself wasn’t entirely sure of. A few, however, managed to catch his attention and hold it. Those dominants he agreed to meet with again or asked them to owl him if they weren’t sure they would be able to get back to Knockturn before Harry started back at school.
All in all it had been a successful day so far, so he was annoyed to have his good mood ruined by the sight of a group of werewolves gathered around an uncomfortable looking Rick. Although the werewolves must be packmates - an outsider group of werewolves hassling a Knockturn Pack member would have been seen off by now - Rick did not look happy or comfortable to be around them. The situation reminded Harry of Slytherins cornering one or two lone Gryffindors - a situation Harry had been in often enough with Malfoy and his cronies.
“Hey Rick, I’m not interrupting am I?” he asked as he planted himself next to the werewolf. Subtlety was not his strong suit, but as long as it got the other werewolves off Rick’s back he didn’t care how unsubtle his approach was.
“Hi Harry. No you’re not interrupting. I was just talking to some of my packmates,” the werewolf replied with a strained smile and a gesture towards the others sitting at the table. “Did you get tired of the adoring masses fawning all over you?” he asked with a grin that was a bit more genuine.
“Uh, don’t” Harry groaned, thudding his head on the table. “I swear some of these people have the maturity level of a three year old, and about the same manners. A few of them aren’t too bad though - they can at least go five minutes without making stupid innuendos. But enough about the exasperations of my love life, introduce me to your packmates.”
“Oh, yeah,” Rick said, smile dimming slightly. “Harry this is Rikin, Jason, Andrew - who prefers Andy - Edward and Leo. Guys this is Harry, the demon Timothy invited to the game tomorrow,” his tone held a slight hint of warning to Harry’s surprise.
The other werewolves all greeted Harry politely, wary of upsetting him. While they didn’t know much about the young demon, they did know that the Alpha had made it abundantly clear that upsetting the submissive, should they meet him, would be a Very Bad Thing. Anyone with half a brain knew that this meant the Boss was interested in the submissive, as little else could make Domovoi so insistent about behaviour, which made upsetting the submissive more than their hide was worth. As troublesome as Rikin and his little posse could be, even they had lines they knew not to cross.
“Will you be at the game tomorrow?” Harry asked innocently, correctly deducing that these were the ‘pups’ who had been forbidden to go to the match because of misbehaviour.
“No, we were asked to stay behind,” Rikin said with a tight smile, striving to be polite while in grumbled internally. “We can’t all go off and leave the territory unguarded, it’d be asking for a take-over.”
Harry hummed noncommittally. He didn’t even have to glance at Rick to see the irritation and denial at the made up explanation, the werewolf was so tense he could practically feel the outrage pouring off him. Besides, it was more fun if Harry acted ignorant to the reality of the situation. It was clear the werewolves didn’t want to offend him, and that Rikin had the same self-entitled attitude Malfoy had - poking the snake’s nest was always fun when they couldn’t bite back.
“I thought Timothy said some of your pack weren’t coming to the game because they don’t like quidditch?” he asked with a confused frown, giving a puzzled glance to Rick. “How many pack members need to be on the territory at any given time?” he directed his question at Rick, who was much more relaxed now he had realised Harry would not be taking Rikin’s side.
“Two or three normally,” Rick shrugged before one of the other werewolves could attempt to exaggerate the answer. “Depends how long the rest of the pack is gone for, how far away they’ll be, how hard they’ll be to contact, how difficult it would be for them to return at short notice, whether we’ve had trouble recently, how experienced the people left behind are, stuff like that. For the game, which is easy to get back from in a couple of minutes, only two people really need to be left. Of course it’s also-”
“Oh, shut up already! We don’t need your life story,” snapped one of the younger werewolves - Andy, Harry thought Rick had called him. Rick flinched slightly and snapped his mouth shut, making Harry frown.
“No, please continue,” he smiled at Rick and shot the others a dirty look that made them wince slightly. So much for not upsetting the demon. Hopefully he wouldn’t mention it to anyone so it wouldn’t make it back to the Alpha. Hoping to salvage the situation and get the demon on their side, Rikin gave Harry a sheepish smile.
“Sorry, Andy shouldn’t have snapped. That was rude,” he said, giving the other werewolf a pointed look to quell any protests, “but you have to stop Rick before he really gets going, otherwise he never shuts up. He doesn’t have a brain-to-mouth filter. If you get him started he’ll talk you into a coma and still carry on while you’re unconscious. You’ll see what I mean if you hang around the pack more; it gets on everybody’s nerves in the end,” Rikin explained, seeming to somehow miss the glare Harry was giving him as Rick shrank back in his seat.
It was only when one of the other werewolves elbowed him in the side that Rikin realised he’d made the situation worse. He flinched internally at the icy stare Harry was giving him.
“Just because you-”
“Oi!” A shout from across the cafe interrupted what would have been a spectacular dressing down. Harry twisted in his seat to see who had interrupted him. Whoever it was, the sight of them had made the pups blanch.
Striding towards them with a scowl was Timothy and another werewolf. Harry’s eyes widened as he took in the other werewolf’s size. He was huge. If Harry didn’t know better, he would think he was looking at Hagrid’s clean-shaven little brother. Even Timothy, as big as he was, looked almost averaged sized in comparison. The werewolf must have been seven feet tall, and wide enough to struggle fitting through normal sized doors. He also had the distinct feel of an Alpha werewolf which only made him seem even more intimidating, despite the perfectly calm look on his face.
“What do they feed you people?” Harry exclaimed, turning to Rick, who chuckled.
“Miracle-Gro?” Rick suggested with a laugh.
“I’m amazed you even know what that is, abysmal gardener that you are” Timothy, who had just reached their table, snorted. Then he rounded on the younger werewolves. “Where the fuck have you lot been? Do you think we don’t have better things to be doing than searching all over Knockturn for five pups who can’t even put the fucking effort in to make it to work on time?” he snarled, truly pissed off that he had had to spend the last half hour searching for them instead of enjoying his time off. To find them lazing around in Leena’s - undoubtedly making life difficult for Rick and, judging by the demon’s expression, getting under Harry’s skin as well - just pissed him off even more.
“Thank you, Timothy,” the gigantic werewolf said calmly, placing a hand on the angry werewolf’s shoulder and gently pushing him aside. “I don’t want to hear it,” he said, raising a hand as the pups started to make excuses. “You can explain to Alpha why you are over half an hour late for work. I’m sure he and Mr. Calvey would be fascinated to find out why you spent the last half hour here, upsetting a packmate and, if I’m not mistaken, the demon submissive who has been invited to join the pack at an event you yourselves will be missing due to previous infractions.” The pups paled even more. They hadn’t been expecting to have to explain themselves to the Boss directly. “All I needed was to know where you were. Now that I know you are safe and not in need of assistance, I trust you can make your own way to work? I needn’t remind you how displeased I will be if I have to come looking for you again. Next time I may be inclined to let Timothy deal with you,” he said, voice still mild as Timothy fumed next to him.
“Yes sir,” Rikin stammered as the group clambered to their feet, looking torn between fleeing the giant werewolf’s well hidden anger and waiting to be dismissed so as not to invite more anger because of poor manners.
“Go, and if you are not in front of the Alpha in ten minutes I will want to know why,” the werewolf dismissed them, a faint hint of a growl finally showing in his voice. The pups went, filing rapidly through the door and sprinting off as soon as they made it out.
“I apologise for that,” the big werewolf said, turning to face Harry. “I am Aaron Firmin, the Knockturn Pack’s Second,” he introduced himself.
“Harry Potter,” Harry greeted, quiet enough that people at the surrounding tables couldn’t here over the chatter in the cafe.
“Yes, Timothy is quite taken with you,” Aaron teased with a smile. “The rest of the pack is looking forward to meeting you in person after listening to him natter on about you. I am sorry that you had to meet the pups before you met everyone else; they can be rather crass. I hope they did not upset you too badly?” he asked with a small frown. Rikin and his lot had caused enough trouble recently, without upsetting a submissive they had been specifically ordered not to offend.
“Not really,” Harry sighed. “Not directly, at least. I was more angry at the way they treated Rick. They were relatively polite to me,” he clarified at Timothy’s disbelieving noise, ignoring Rick’s murmur of protest.
Aaron nodded slowly, “Yes, I will be having words with them about that. Treating a packmate so reprehensibly will not be tolerated. I hope you will not judge us all by their example, the rest of the pack are far more tolerable.”
“I look forward to meeting them,” Harry smiled, already liking the calm, slightly formal sounding werewolf.
“Then I shall see you at the game tomorrow,” Aaron said with a nod. “Timothy, you have the rest of the day off. Thank you for your assistance.” With a farewell nod, Aaron turned on his heel and left to find his Alpha and the pups, who had better have shown up where they were told to.
“So,” Harry said after a moment of silence, “how dead do you think they are?”
“Fed-to-a-nundu dead,” Rick answered without missing a beat. Timothy nodded in agreement.
“Skipping work is bad enough. Being found spending that time picking on a pack member and annoying someone who is joining us as a guest of the pack tonight and tomorrow? They’ll be praying for the full moon to come faster by the time Alpha is done with them,” Timothy said, sounding slightly more gleeful at the prospect than he probably should have. “So what are you two munchkins up to now?”
“Munchkins?” Harry exclaimed in mock outrage.
“Harry was taking a break from all the IQ-less dominants he’s been humouring,” Rick grinned as Timothy cackled at Harry’s outburst.
“They aren’t all IQ-less, just a terrifyingly large number of them are,” Harry corrected. “Maybe I should just adopt a kneazle? They offer the same level of companionship and intelligence as some of the idiots I’ve talked with in here,” he mused, setting off Timothy’s cackling again.
“They can’t all be bad,” Timothy reasoned once he had calmed down. “Maybe you need a different way of choosing who to approach? You should throw a dart into the crowd and go to talk to whoever it hits. At least you’ll have a conversation starter.”
“I am not throwing darts at potential future mates,” Harry said, smacking Timothy on the arm. “I think my random selection process is disturbing them enough without stabbing them with pointy things. And Leena would kill me! Or kill you for suggesting it and kick me out for doing it.”
“I think you should try the blonde in the corner,” Rick interjected. “He looks like he’d be good in bed,” he added.
Silence followed this proclamation as the other two stared. Several seconds passed before Harry blushed and Timothy howled with laughter.
“You are a special kind of evil,” Harry moaned as he buried his head in his hands. After spending several minutes ostensibly ignoring the cackling hyenas, Harry lifted his head. “You know what, I think I will go and say hi,” he said decisively. “If nothing else you’ve given me a talking point,” he grinned.
“You’re going to ask the unfamiliar dominant what he’s like in bed?” Timothy asked dubiously.
“Of course not!” Harry exclaimed. “I meant the insanity of my friends. Honestly, what kind of demon do you take me for? Don’t answer that!” he said quickly, pointing threateningly at the two werewolves, who were grinning at him. He huffed as they continued to grin at him. “Alright, I’ll go stammer and blush at the poor dom who will think I’m insane thanks to you two.”
“Good luck,” Timothy said cheerfully. “We’ll give you a shout when it’s time to go and get ready for tonight. Rick will want plenty of time to torture, I mean help you get ready.”
Harry chuckled and stood, waving goodbye to Timothy as Rick rounded on the bigger werewolf. The sound of the two squabbling was quickly lost in the background noise as Harry approached the demon Rick had pointed out. Despite the werewolves’ best efforts, Harry managed to control his blush as he sat in a chair across from the dominant. He was getting more confident about this whole approaching dominants thing. Even knowing lots of dominants were watching from a distance didn’t feel as overwhelming as it had at first.
“Hi, I’m Harry,” said Harry, offering a hand to shake. He’d also gotten much better at remembering to introduce himself before launching into a conversation.
“Owen Derwen,” the blonde smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Harry.”
“You’re much calmer about it than some of the others have been,” Harry said wryly. “I half expected some of them to collapse in shock.”
“You have caused quite the stir,” Owen admitted. “Nobody was sure what to make of you confronting a dominant, or all the time you spend with werewolves who aren’t family. It’s unusual.”
“Good unusual or bad unusual?”
Owen shrugged. “That depends on the dom. Some like the predictability of a lot of submissives’ behaviour. Personally, I like the unusual. At work it makes my job more interesting, and at home I imagine it would make my life more interesting too,” he winked.
“What job do have?” Harry asked curiously.
“I’m a curse breaker. Maybe not the safest of jobs but it is interesting and the pay is good.”
“Really? My friend’s brother is a curse breaker. He works in Egypt,” Harry said, happy to have something less generic than school or quidditch to talk about, even if he didn’t know a great deal about curse breaking.
“He works for Gringotts then?” Owen stated more than asked. “Most Egypt-based curse breakers do. I only spent a couple of months there for training. Nobody does horrifically slow and painful deaths like the Egyptians,” the dominant paused for a moment, checking Harry’s reaction as he remembered he was talking to a submissive. A lot of submissives were squeamish about the details of his work but he needn’t have worried about Harry. The young demon was fascinated and it would take a lot more than the mention of a few deadly curses to put him off. “Once I finished my training I got a job with a private company in Norway and specialised in Nordic enchantments. It is based a lot more in rune-work than pure spell-work but the Norse ‘gods’ could be tricky bastards when they wanted to be.”
“Gods?” Harry repeated, eyes wide. He had never been a religious person - his aunt and uncle only attended church because it was the ‘proper’ thing to do, not out of any real belief, and they never took him - so it had never occurred to him that stories about gods may have some basis in fact.
“They weren’t real gods, just extremely talented families of magic users. They probably would have been on par with the Founders but they used runes more than spell casting,” the curse breaker explained, pleased to have an interested audience. “It’s a pity most of Europe focuses so much on spell work, it is amazing what a good understanding of runic magic enables you to do. Most people only use runes for setting permanent or extremely strong wards, it’s a waste. A true runes master can create enchantments more complex than spells alone can achieve, and the crafting possibilities are immense!” he enthused.
“I didn’t know runes could do so much,” Harry admitted. “I chose Ancient Runes as one of my options but nothing like that was mentioned in the information about the application of runes.”
“It wouldn’t be. Even so called ‘masters’ nowadays don’t make proper use of runes,” Owen snorted derisively. “Too much of it has been deemed dangerous or Dark. Blanket bans on entire branches are slowly killing the art. Spell-work is easier and is considered safer and more modern. Runes are not forgiving if you make mistakes whereas a good Healer can fix most spell damage quickly. Spells are easier to regulate as well. If someone is learning Dark spells it is obvious but everyone learns the same runes - it’s how you use them that matters. A benevolent runic array that purifies water uses the same runes as a harmful array that poisons, the difference lies in the orientation of the runes within the array. You wouldn’t know which array someone was using until they finished setting it, by which time it is active and takes a lot of work to undo. Then there are the branches I don’t know much about: body enhancements, rituals, scrying - though that is a cross between enchanting and divining. Lots of them have been banned in most countries for being ‘Dark’.”
Harry was fascinated. As a Realm-sired demon he had something of an affinity for magic languages, both written and spoken, and found their potential applications fascinating. Unfortunately, thanks to the wizards’ superiority complexes, very little was known about many of the languages used by various magical beasts and beings. They were seen novelties at best or signs of evil and Darkness at worst, so while being able to speak Gobbledegook and Mermish was deemed a fairly impressive, mildly useful skill, nobody cared to research the possible further applications of the languages. To find out that runes - which was really the wizards’ own magic language - had also fallen prey to the ridiculous Dark stigma was disappointing.
Still, Harry was interested and he doubted Owen would care too much about sticking to Ministry approved topics when discussing runes. They broke the laws just by being demons and having the audacity to continue breathing, what was a bit of forbidden knowledge going to hurt?
The raven haired demon spent the next few hours pestering the dominant with questions about runes, with the occasional question about curse breaking thrown in. Owen seemed amused at all the questions but answered them all patiently, no doubt delighted to have held Harry’s attention for so long. Not once had the green eyed teen’s attention wavered or shown signs of growing bored.
“I think your werewolf friend is trying to get your attention,” Owen said a few hours later as they sat in comfortable silence while Harry thought over everything he had learned.
Looking over in the direction of the table he had left the werewolves at, Harry saw that Timothy was indeed waving like a lunatic trying to get his attention. Once the werewolf saw that he had Harry’s attention, he started miming…something.
“Do you have any idea what that is supposed to mean?” Harry asked the blonde dominant. Owen looked equally as baffled as Harry felt.
“Not a clue. It looks like someone jinxed him with a miscast Tarantallegra,” said Owen raising an eyebrow. “Why doesn’t he just say whatever it is he’s trying to communicate? He’s close enough that he wouldn’t even have to shout much.”
“Don’t ask me. I fear the day I understand how his mind works,” Harry muttered in reply, before raising his voice slightly to carry across the cafe. “Timothy, I don’t speak interpretive dance! What is that,” he copied the arm-flailing movements the werewolf had been making, “supposed to mean?”
“It’s time to go,” Rick translated, electing to walk to Harry’s table and talk like a normal person rather than wave his arms around like a gnome that had stepped on a lightning bug.
“Why couldn’t he just say that?” Harry sighed exasperatedly. “Owen, it was brilliant meeting you. Will you be around in the next couple of days? I’d love to see you again and continue our chat,” Harry asked with a bright smile.
“Of course,” said the dominant, looking extremely pleased. “I have the rest of the month off so I’ll be around most days.”
“Great,” Harry grinned. “It’s been fascinating talking to you. Not many people can keep my short attention span focused for so long, Hermione will be owling you for tips when I tell her,” he laughed. With a last goodbye, he left with the werewolves.
The second they were out of earshot, Timothy and Rick burst out laughing.
“What are you two hyenas laughing about now?”
“Oh Merlin, did you see his face?” cackled Rick. Timothy nodded, laughing so hard he wasn’t making any noise, while Harry looked confused.
“I think you made him a very happy demon, Harry,” Timothy laughed once he had his breathing under control enough to speak.
“What?” Harry looked completely perplexed.
“Merlin, he was so proud he was preening,” Timothy gasped, setting Rick off again as Harry rolled his eyes.
“He was not. He was just happy he hadn’t bored me to tears like so many others did,” Harry grumbled. “Honestly, you two are like children! If this is what me and Ron are like when we’re together then I suddenly have a lot of sympathy for Hermione.”
That declaration did nothing to shut the two werewolves up, who were now laughing so hard the patrons of the Dark District were giving them sideways glances. They were still letting out the occasional chuckle as Harry let them into his room at the Leaky Cauldron.
“Right, into the shower you,” Rick ordered, recovering quickly and prodding Harry into the bathroom. “Do you have conditioner? No, of course you don’t, why bother taking care of your hair? Here take this, use it after shampooing.”
Harry blinked as a bottle of hair conditioner was shoved at him.
“Have you been carrying this around with you all day?” he asked incredulously.
“Shower!” Rick barked in reply, striding back into the bedroom and shutting the bathroom door. “And don’t take too long!” came the muffled order through the door.
Five minutes later a freshly showered Harry stuck his head around the bathroom door. “Do I have clothes or…?”
“Here,” Rick said, passing him a bundle of folded clothes. “Towel off your hair first then put these on. Put a dry towel over your shoulders once you’re dressed so you don’t drip water all over your shirt,” he instructed.
Doing as ordered, Harry quickly rubbed his hair with the towel before pulling on the chinos and sapphire blue, long sleeved shirt he had been given. He had a suspicious feeling the chinos were new, as he didn’t remember buying them, and he really hoped this would be the last of the clothes Rick would buy for him. He already had more than he knew what to do with.
Slinging a dry towel around his shoulders he padded back into the bedroom. The sight of Rick standing by the small dressing table (which Harry had been using as a desk until now) wielding a hairbrush seemed oddly foreboding. At some point the smaller werewolf must have made Timothy change as the older werewolf was sitting on the bed, pouting, wearing a polo-shirt and slacks rather than his previous shirt, vest and jeans.
“Time to get that mop you call hair under control,” Rick announced, dragging Harry over to the seat. The demon eyed the various bottles lined up on the table dubiously.
“Seriously, have you been carrying these around all day?” he asked again. “And did you bring a change of clothes for Timothy? Where did you carry it all?”
“I carry a lot of these bottles shrunk down in my pocket all the time in case I need them. The clothes I tucked into the storage pouch of my wallet to keep them clean. A quick ironing spell removes any wrinkles, and this way he can’t sneak off to pretend to get changed,” Rick explained as he attacked Harry’s hair. The teenager marvelled at the werewolf’s ability to make it sound like what he had done was a perfectly normal thing that everyone did.
Several bottles of hair products later, plus a few charms that Harry didn’t recognise, and the demon was getting fed up of the grooming session.
“How much longer can this take?” Harry whined. As far as he could tell his hair looked the same as ever. Maybe slightly fluffier and tidier than usual but nothing to justify the amount of time Rick had kept him pinned in the chair for.
“You know, you are a submissive, I thought you were all supposed to love pampering sessions like this,” Timothy teased with a smirk.
Harry threw one of the bottles at him.
“Git. You’re lucky Rick won’t let me move or I’d hex you for that. Contrary to popular belief we aren’t all born with an innate love of clothes and fashion.”
“Don’t let me hold you back, you’re done,” Rick grinned, stepping back.
With a wicked grin, Harry jumped up and snatched his wand from where it was lying on the windowsill, shooting a hiccuping jinx at Timothy.
“Ha-hic-rry,” whined the werewolf. “No f-hic-air.”
“I think its very fair,” shrugged the demon. “Maybe next time you’ll think before you speak.”
Over by the dressing table, Rick snorted, “Don’t hold your breath, nothing else has worked on him. Now, can I trust you children not to mess up my hard work while I get ready?” he asked. When the only answers he got were an innocent look from Harry and a rude hand gesture accompanied by a hiccup from Timothy he shook his head exasperatedly and disappeared into the bathroom.
“So how long do you think he’ll be?” Harry asked, eyeing a vengeful looking Timothy warily.
“Ha-hic-rry,” Timothy said warningly, “remove the da-hic-mn jinx.”
“Now let’s not be too hasty,” said Harry, backing away as Timothy advanced. “Rick will kill you if you mess up my hair,” he squeaked, darting to the side as Timothy lunged at him.
When Rick emerged from the bathroom it was to find Harry kneeling on the floor, clutching his sides and giggling uncontrollably, and Timothy releasing bubbles from his mouth every time he hiccuped or tried to speak.
“A-are we g-going now?” Harry stuttered through his giggles.
“I left you alone for five minutes!” Rick said throwing his hands up.
“Finite incantatem,” Timtohy muttered, pointing his wand at himself then doing the same for Harry. “You have never only taken five minutes to get ready for anything,” he snorted at Rick.
“You’ve made a mess of your clothes,” Rick complained, ignoring Timothy’s comment in favour of inspecting the damage the two had done to their outfits. “Right, both of you stand still. You look like you just got out of a fight with Devil’s Snare.” Several spells later and Rick declared the two neat enough to leave.
“Finally!” Harry exclaimed, darting for the door before Rick could haul him back for any last minute adjustments. He had no idea how anyone could take so long to get ready for a night out and he never wanted to experience it again.
“It didn’t take that long,” Rick grumbled as Timothy copied Harry’s speedy exit. He caught up with them at the top of the stairs. Harry had stopped to pull his wand out, not wanting to use magic in front of everyone in the Leaky Cauldron and risk getting in trouble for underage magic.
“What are you doing?” asked a bemused Timothy as he watched the demon mutter something and tap his lightning bolt scar with his wand.
“Avoiding fan mobs,” Harry said, tucking his wand back into his pocket. “I usually only cast it once a day but your finite will have cancelled the one I cast this morning.”
“Fan mobs? How does it stop fan mobs?” the werewolf asked, following Harry down the stairs and over to the bar.
“Just a sec,” Harry said to Timothy before turning to Tom behind the bar. “Hey Tom, I’m going now. I should be back tomorrow at some point but I’m not sure when - depends how long the game takes,” Harry said with an excited grin. Tom smiled indulgently at the teen’s enthusiasm.
“Aye lad, enjoy yerself. Send us an owl if yer gonna be gone longer so I can hold off the search party,” he said with a wink, returning the wave Harry gave as he left.
“What were we talking about?” Harry asked as Timothy held the door open. “Oh, yeah, the spell. It hides my scar. If people don’t notice the scar, they usually don’t recognise me.”
“I can still see it,” Timothy said, peering at Harry’s forehead.
Harry nodded, “That’s because you’re looking for it. It’s just a masking charm to make it harder to notice, if you already know it’s there or I make it obvious by having my forehead uncovered then you can see through the spell. It stops people noticing it when I’m just chatting to them though, which is all I’m bothered about. It’s how I’ve been able to talk to so many dominants without having them salivating over the possibility of having the Boy-Who-Lived for a mate,” he explained.
“Huh. So is that why I didn’t notice it when I first met you?”
“Nope. I wasn’t using it then.”
Rick laughed.
“In my defence you have a really long fringe and I wasn’t exactly expecting it. And you spent most of the time with your head down, buried in books,” Timothy said defensively.
Harry laughed. “Calm down, I was joking. Yes, I was using it when I first met you,” he grinned. “You can relax, your excellent powers of observation are not being questioned.”
Rick laughed harder as Timothy pouted, “Meanie.”
By the time the trio made it to the square that marked the beginning of the Creature District, the switch over from diurnal businesses to nocturnal ones was almost complete. Leena’s cafe was still open, as were a couple of restaurants, but many of the shops were shut. Although, Harry realised as he looked around, some had not so much shut as changed. Before his eyes, a shop that sold specialised food stuffs and potions ingredients rotated until it showed a new front. The new shopfront had flyers in the window advertising a discount on A-negative blood and a buy two get one free offer on - Harry shudder slightly - human liver. Demon or not, the idea of eating human flesh turned his stomach - he didn’t judge those who needed or even just liked it but he tried not to think too hard about it.
The mix of Creatures in the square had changed too. While there were still a lot of goblins about (Harry wondered whether they ever slept or if they ran on the power of hostility alone) most of the Creatures he was used to seeing in the day - leprechauns, animagii, dryads and the rest - had gone. Instead, the square was filled with vampires, hags, oni and other nocturnal Creatures. Harry was pretty sure that the scruffy black dog with glowing white eyes, lying under one of the restaurant tables, was a full-blooded púca but he wasn’t about to test that theory.
“Is it just me or are there a lot of vamps out tonight?” Rick muttered to Timothy, glancing around the square.
Timothy shrugged. “A few more than normal, maybe. They don’t look like they want to cause trouble though, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”
“I don’t like it,” Rick complained quietly. “It creeps me out having so many around.”
“Relax, it’s just your instincts messing with you. The old vampires-are-the-enemy instinct fades the more exposure you get. Give a few years and you’ll barely notice it unless they’re being threatening,” Timothy reassured the younger werewolf. As Harry listened to Timothy coaching Rick on settling his instincts he wondered how long Rick had been a werewolf. He’d never really given it much thought but seeing the younger werewolf’s obvious inexperience like this made him wonder.
For the first time since coming to Knockturn Alley, Harry left the square and moved deeper into the Creature District. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but at first the place looked a lot like Diagon Alley, albiet more Creature friendly. Doorways wide enough for wings to fit through easily, iron and silver kept tucked safely away to avoid accidental contact, plaques giving blanket permission to enter to any non-hostile being, and other little things that didn’t seem like much but made the lives of Creatures who wanted to shop a little bit easier.
As they moved deeper, the buildings changed from shops to apartments, a few public service buildings - emergency blood blanks, a clinic for Creatures who needed a Healer but were unable or unwilling to hide their lack of humanity for St. Mungo’s, a financial advice office, various help points for getting in touch with different race’s ruling bodies, and a few other official looking buildings that had no sign to indicate their purpose - and the odd pub and club dotted around.
“Through there are the pack’s apartments,” Timothy said, pointing towards a short, gated side alley that opened out into a small courtyard. “You’ll get a better look later when we go to my place for the night.”
“Does all your pack live there?” asked Harry curiously, peering through the sturdy gate into what he could see of the dimly lit courtyard.
“Not always. Everyone has to stay for full moons but we can live where we want for the rest of the month,” explained Rick. “I live in student Halls during the semesters at uni, so I only live here for about half the year. Timothy and a few others live here full time and of course the Alpha lives here as well - it can’t really be the pack’s home if the Alpha lives somewhere else.”
“Do all packs have a communal home wherever their Alpha lives?” Harry asked, thinking of Damian’s father who was a werewolf. How did it work if an Alpha had a non-werewolf mate? Harry wasn’t sure he would like to live constantly surrounded by his mate’s pack, if he chose a werewolf as a mate.
Rick seemed surprised at the question. “As far as I know. I can’t think of any pack that doesn’t,” he replied, looking questioningly at Timothy.
“Maybe not exactly like our set-up but every pack has something similar,” he shrugged. “Most urban packs do what we did, buy a block of flats or an apartment complex big enough for everyone. Rural packs tend more towards having one or two houses with a lot of land, like a farm or a house out in the Lake District - if there isn’t enough room in the house, some of the pack sleep outside. And obviously wild packs don’t have houses at all and they usually stick together all the time. Most are nomadic but even the fixed packs prefer caves or dense forest for shelter over anything man-made - just using a tarp to shelter from the worst of the rain is looked down on by them. Completely nuts, the lot of them,” Timothy said shaking his head. Just the idea of washing in streams and cuddling together under animal hides for warmth made him long for a hot shower and his apartment’s central heating.
Harry pondered the new information. He’d have to ask Damian about his father’s pack and how he and his family fit into it. It wasn’t urgent information but he’d like to know in case he was ever considering a werewolf mate in the future.
He was brought out of his musing by a nudge to his side.
“This is it,” Timothy grinned, nodding his head at the building ahead of them.
The front of the building was black with cursive purple lettering spelling out ‘Fantastic Beasts’ above the door. A small animated dragon weaved through the letters, watching passersby and occasionally letting out a burst of flame, as a slightly larger nundu lounged beneath the words, tail flicking lazily as it washed a paw and eyed the people below. Small windows enabled Harry to see into the club, though it was too dark to see much more than a few tables and chairs. A queue was already starting to form outside but the bouncers on the door, both werewolves, called Timothy and Rick over.
“I hate you both right now,” the older of the two bouncers said in lieu of a greeting.
Timothy laughed, “You’re the one who decided you’d rather be on the doors than watch recalcitrant pups. If you’d sucked it up and spent an afternoon pup-sitting you could have been joining us.”
“Carry on like that and I’ll send you to the back of the line,” the bouncer growled playfully.
“Would you do that to your own packmate?” Timothy asked, covering his heart in mock hurt, prompting a laugh from the other werewolf.
“Lucky for you Alpha’s orders say I can’t. So who’s your friend? Looks a little young to be around here.”
“This is Harry. Harry, meet Lukas. Lukas, learn how to use your nose. If you can’t tell that Harry’s reached inheritance age, and is looking for a mate, then you need your nose checked,” Timothy said with a huff.
After a deep inhale Lukas shifted sheepishly, “Ah. In my defence the place is pretty busy and single scents are hard to separate. And the place has been swimming with demons recently.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Timothy teased. “Now, are you going to let us in or make us stay here listening to you prattle on?”
“This is why people don’t like you,” Lukas scowled jokingly, pushing open the door. “In you go. Have fun, I’ll be around bright and early in the morning with an air horn.”
Chuckling, Timothy led the way inside, pausing as Harry stopped to read the sign stuck to the internal doors:

We ask that customers please refrain from: spell casting, enthralling, biting of any kind, changing or feeding from other patrons. No animal forms permitted on the dance floor or in the bar area. Please enquire at the bar for any special dietary needs. Thank you for your cooperation.
Raising an eyebrow Harry commented, “We should get one of these for the common room. It’s like living in a zoo sometimes.”
“And a sign would fix that?”
“Probably not but I can always hope,” shrugged the demon as he followed Timothy through the doors.
The inside of the club was split into three levels. Off to the left a short set of stairs led down to a dance floor with a stage along the far wall - Harry presumed there was a muffling charm on the stairs because while he could hear the music it was nowhere near as loud as he expected it to be. The middle level, that the trio were currently on, had a large central bar with tables and chairs scattered around. Towards the back of the room there were crowds of people gathered around what looked like pool tables but they had levitating balls and appeared to be shouting advice (or abuse) at the players. To the right another short set of stairs led up to an area filled with much more luxurious looking seating, with a smaller, fancier bar in the corner. A sign at the bottom of the stairs proclaimed the area to be ‘VIP Only’ and a well built werewolf (seriously, what were they feeding these people?) standing at the bottom of the steps deterred anyone from trying their luck at sneaking in.
The animal theme Harry had seen on the sign outside continued inside. A few tamer magical animals - unicorns, salamanders, erumpents - were carved, painted or otherwise depicted on table tops, the backs of chairs and dotted around in a few other places, but by far the most prominent creatures were the dragon and nundu that had been on the sign outside. All of the animals moved; tossing their heads, blinking and mimicking the actions of their real life counterparts. The dragons patrolled their territory protectively, letting loose small bursts of flame, while the nundus were silently watchful, causally washing themselves with the dismissive attitude cats excelled at. Sitting on the bar - Harry did a double take - was a velociraptor, of all things, that seemed to be acting as a tips jar. Occasionally someone would flick a coin in its direction and it would snatch the coin out of the air and gobble it down.
“Why is there a small dinosaur sitting on the bar?” Harry asked bemusedly.
“It collects tips. At the end of the night the staff tap it and it doles out their share. Anyone trying to claim a share that isn’t theirs gets bitten,” Timothy explained cheerfully.
Harry paused to digest this before asking, “But why a velociraptor?”
“Jurassic Park is a film that resonated with us deeply. By which I mean we saw film and decided we needed a pet raptor, so we made one in a combined, not-so-sober effort. Then we had nowhere to put it and it kept eating random things and biting people who tried to retrieve anything that didn’t belong to them. Now it collects tips for us.”
“That is…” Harry trailed off, lost for words.
“Completely ridiculous but also kind of amazing?” Rick suggested with a grin. Harry nodded wordlessly, watching as the raptor ate another shiny sickle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought when I first saw it.”
To Harry’s surprise, Timothy led them in the direction of the VIP area. The tattooed werewolf by the stairs eyed them curiously as they approached, gaze lingering on Harry.
“Is this a reward for good behaviour or because of your friend here?” the werewolf asked as they reached the bottom of the steps. Harry shifted uncomfortably under the werewolf’s gaze, the cold, blue eyed stare more intimidating than he had been used to receiving from his few meetings with other members of the pack.
“Alpha loves me,” Timothy grinned, earning a snort from the other werewolves.
“Because of your friend, then,” the unfamiliar werewolf concluded. “Unless you’ve done something amazing while I was busy?”
“I’m hurt. My own packmates don’t believe in me!” Timothy exclaimed dramatically.
“Your packmates know you spend as much time in trouble as you do making up for the trouble you caused,” Rick said dryly. “Thomas, this is Harry. Harry, this is Thomas - he’s not as scary as he looks once you get to know him.”
“Harry?” the blue eyes flicked back to Harry, less cold this time. “The same Harry Alpha mentioned?”
“Your Alpha talked about me?” Harry asked startled. He’d guessed that the pack Alpha knew about him, what with all the time Timothy had Rick had spent with him, but he didn’t expect to be a topic of conversation with the rest of the pack.
“Yes and yes,” Timothy answered both questions, turing to Harry. “You’re spending tonight and tomorrow with us, Alpha told the pack so they know you’re allowed to be around pack territory if they come across you on your own at some point,” he explained. Thomas raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Rick. Nothing Timothy had said was untrue but the Alpha’s warning hadn’t been quite as run of the mill as Timothy was implying. Harry, however, remained oblivious to the byplay between the werewolves and after a glance from Timothy, Thomas stayed quiet.
With a quick farewell to the tattooed werewolf, Timothy chivvied Harry up the stairs and told him to pick a place to sit. After a quick glance around he chose one of the booths that gave him a good view of the rest of the club. As they sat down, a menu materialised in front of each of them along with a guide for how to order without going to the bar and advice on how to use the various privacy options the booth offered.
“Should we get drinks and snacky foods or do you want something more filling?” Timothy asked as the other two perused the menu. The menu offered a much more varied range than could be found in any muggle or even wizarding establishment.
“We might as well get a bunch of finger foods and appetisers,” Rick said when Harry shrugged and said he didn’t mind what they did. “We’ll end up getting them later anyway, even if we eat a full meal now. Why don’t we get some of everything? Harry can try everything to see what he likes and there’ll be enough to keep you from whining about getting the hungries once you’ve had a few drinks.”
“As long as we avoid the specialised diet stuff, that’s fine by me,” Harry agreed, looking at some of the menu option with distaste. Knowing that some Creatures had diets he found a bit disturbing did not have the same effect as seeing long pig on the menu and knowing no-one would give him a second glance if he ordered it. Some of the other options seemed bizarre and were - for most customers - inedible, such as the variety dish of precious stones that Harry presumed were intended for golems and similar Creatures.
“Yeah, I think we can do without the concentrated blood jelly cubes,” Timothy agreed. “What about drinks? I know what Rick will have but what do you want?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said, reading through the drinks menu with a lost look. “Nothing alcoholic for now, unless you want to be carrying me out in a couple of hours.”
“Light weight,” Timothy teased. Harry shrugged.
“Thirteen year old teetotaller,” he pointed out. “I might be mature mentally but my body won’t catch up for a while yet. Besides, I’m like the size of one of your arms, I’ll always be a lightweight compared to you even if you didn't have werewolf metabolism.”
“Virgin cocktail then?” Rick suggested. “No alcohol but more interesting than spending the night on pumpkin juice and butterbeer.”
Harry shrugged a little and nodded, “Ok. Any suggestions? I don’t even know what half of this stuff is.”
“Well what sort of drinks do you like?” Timothy asked, flicking to the cocktails section of the drinks menu.
Harry shrugged again, “I don’t know, fruit juice? I like sweet things,” he offered hesitantly. It was difficult to know what he liked when he was used to water, milk or pumpkin juice being his only options. The Dursleys bought all sorts of different fizzy drinks and fruit juices - the latter for Petunia, as Dudley and Vernon wouldn’t drink anything that didn’t shave five years off their life expectancy with each bottle - but Harry was lucky if he got something as simple as orange juice or milk. At Hogwarts he could choose what he wanted but they didn’t have a great selection, the usual choices being milk, water, pumpkin juice or tea - even during House parties the first and second years were kept away from anything containing even small amounts of alcohol, including butterbeer, to prevent it from affecting their magic.
“How about mojito?” Timothy recommended. “It’s sweet and tastes good even without the alcohol. If you don’t like it I’ll drink it and we’ll get you something else to try.” Harry nodded in agreement.
Rapping the table with his knuckles three time, Timothy gave their order by speaking to the table. As he finished listing the huge variety of food they wanted he rapped the table again. This time a small section of the table stared glowing and the werewolf placed a Gringotts key into the glowing square. A bright flash confirmed the key as valid payment before their order started to appear. First to appear were their drinks, which were quickly followed by plates on bowls filled with finger foods until there was almost no space left on the table.
“I love VIP service,” Timothy grinned, reaching across the table to snag a bowl of olives. “Service at the bar is good but nothing beats the instant service you get here.”
“How do you cope in the muggle world? You’re barely patient enough to wait when the Leaky Cauldron is busy. Being in the muggle world must kill you, having to wait longer than five minutes for food,” Rick chuckled.
“I don’t eat out in the muggle world if I can avoid it,” the older werewolf said pulling a face. “They do everything so slowly. Thank Merlin for house elves, I don’t think I could cope with muggle-speed service everywhere.”
“There are house elves here?” Harry asked in surprise, thinking back to Dobby and the mad elf’s antics.
“Of course, most businesses have at least one and eating establishments usually have a crew of them. It’s cheaper than hiring people on to do all the cooking, cleaning, serving and so on. Most elves wouldn’t take money if you tried to make them and unlike your average wizard or Creature, they adore being given extra work. You’d need five wizards in place of one elf and they’d still probably do a worse job,” Rick replied.
“Huh, I’ve only ever met one house elf. He kept trying to kill me.”
“On the orders of his contract holder or…?”
“He was trying to save my life.”
“Right,” drawled Timothy. “That makes perfect sense. Do you know anyone normal?”
“Apparently not. Though in Dobby’s defence, anyone would go nuts serving the Malfoy family.”
“Hypocritical tossers,” Timothy sneered, surprising Harry with the venom in his tone. “Acting oh so superior to us inferior ‘half-breeds’, ignoring that their blood is hardly a shining example of purity. The wizards’ superiority complex is bad enough on its own without their hypocrisy thrown in.”
“You know, you used to be a wizard too,” Rick interjected with the air of one who has had this conversation many times before.
“Yes and I was an ignorant prat. And that was being a half-blood without the pureblood stick up my arse,” scowled Timothy.
“Right, anyway,” Harry interrupted, derailing an argument they had clearly had many times before. “Dobby was acting on his own. He was trying to keep me safe by keeping me away from Hogwarts but decided the best way to do that was have me maimed enough to not be able to stay there. In his own mind it made perfect sense, even if I could have done without the broken arm.”
“You have really weird friends,” Timothy decided after a moment.
“Oh believe me, I know,” Harry said, giving a pointed look at Timothy, who folded his arms and stuck his tongue out.
“You’re mean. I don’t want to talk about this any more,” Timothy sniffed with an exaggerated pout. “We should talk about something else,” he nodded decisively.
“We could persuade Harry to go and talk to whoever it is he keeps staring at by the bar,” Rick suggested innocently.
“What is it with you and my love life? I’m not staring at anyone,” Harry protested.
“Of course not.”
“I’m not!”
“I believe you. I’m obviously just imagining the way you don’t look away from the crowd down there for longer than it takes to have a drink,” Rick said agreeably while Timothy snickered.
“It’s just weird seeing so many demons in one place. There are at least three families and even more mated dominants without their submissives around,” Harry said defensively.
“It is pretty odd,” Timothy admitted, looking over the crowd curiously. “We don’t get that many demons in here normally. Are they here for you?”
“The unmated dominants are but I don’t see why the rest would be,” Harry frowned. “Maybe it’s an Earth-sired thing. Or there are a lot of young doms who are trying to get a mate for the first time and have overprotective parents hovering around. I really hope that’s not it. How awkward would that be?”
“If by ‘awkward’ you mean ‘hilarious to watch’ then very,” grinned Timothy. “Maybe you should go over and ask?”
“Merlin no. I’d be mobbed before I got half a sentence out. The unmated dominants outnumber the mated ones.”
“I thought you had all those ‘no talking to the submissive’ rules to prevent that?”
“Yes but all it takes is one dom who think it’s him I’m approaching, or one prat who thinks he’s above the rules, then it’s open season on the submissive with so many of them around,” Harry said pulling a face.
“Are you not going to talk to any of them then?” Rick asked. “I thought that was one reason for you coming here.”
“I hadn’t really thought this far ahead,” Harry admitted sheepishly. “I wasn’t expecting so many of them either, or for them to be gathered in a group like that. I thought it would be more like they are at Leena’s, not doing all that posturing.”
Very distracting posturing, he added silently, watching as two dominants squared up to each other, the demons around them watching with interest with the exception of a few submissives who hid behind their mates or avoided looking. Harry held his breath as one dominant loomed over the other, trying to use his size to intimidate. It didn’t work. The shorter dominant used the proximity to drive his hand into the other’s solar plexus, winding him, following up with a right hook, breaking the larger dominant’s nose. Harry watched raptly, torn between interest and horror knowing they were fighting because of him but unable to turn his gaze away.
The sudden appearance of two bouncers prevented the fight from escalating. Harry couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed. As much as he disliked violence, watching two dominants fighting over him appealed to his more primal side.
“That’s also been happening more than usual,” Timothy observed as the two demons were separated but not kicked out the club like most trouble makers would be.
“Yeah, that is definitely because of me,” Harry nodded absently as he watched the shorter of the two dominants, the one who he was sure would have won the fight had it continued. A few of the dominants noticed Harry looking in their direction - he wasn’t exactly being subtle - and winked or waved at him. The young demon quickly looked away, flushing slightly at being caught staring.
“Shut up,” he muttered at the snickering werewolves.
“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Timothy teased, reaching over to ruffle Harry’s hair.
“Timothy, you prat!”
Surprisingly the exclamation did not come from the annoyed demon, who had just batted away the offending hand, but an irritated Rick.
“It took ages to get that bird’s nest under control and now you’ve messed it up,” complained the younger werewolf, looking far more bothered about it than Harry did.
“Oops?” Timothy offered apologetically.
“Prat,” Rick said again, rolling his eyes.
“I didn’t mean to mess up your hard work. I was just trying to annoy Harry.”
“Prat,” this time the remark did come from Harry but the demon was grinning. Grinning a little too widely for Timothy’s comfort. “I think you need to make it up to us.”
“No fair! You don’t even care about your hair,” Timothy whined, doing his best impression of a petulant five year old.
“Not as much as Rick, maybe, but I did have to sit quietly while he took forever messing with it. And now you’ve mucked it up. I demand compensation,” Harry said, mimicking the superior attitude he was used to seeing from Malfoy. Rick snickered as the two mock glared at each other, until Timothy sighed and surrendered.
“Fine, you win. I most humbly apologise and beg for your forgiveness. How may this lowly mutt make up for his transgressions?” he simpered exaggeratedly, making the other two burst out laughing despite their attempts at keeping a straight face.
“You should go to the bar and get the next round of drinks,” Harry instructed.
“And invite over that demon. The short one Harry keeps staring at,” Rick added mischievously.
“Rick! Really, what is it with you and my love life?” Harry demanded. Rick shrugged.
“I’m living vicariously, I don’t have my own love life. And you keep looking at him, we should invite him over so you can actually talk to him instead of staring at his arse every time he leans over the pool table,” he retorted. “Not that it isn’t a very nice arse,” he added.
“I’m not staring at his arse!” Harry protested. Except maybe he was, just a little bit. So sue him, Rick was right, it was a very nice arse and Harry was only human…well, demon but the point stood. “I was just watching the hierarchy dynamic to avoid trouble later.”
“Uh huh. And the ‘hierarchy dynamic’ just so happens to have a nice arse,” the werewolf teased. “But really, you should let Timothy invite him over so we can all talk to him. What’s the point of having werewolf friends if you don’t use them to scare the bejesus out of potential suitors?”
Harry burst out laughing at the enthusiasm in Rick’s voice. “Ok, fine, invite him over,” he conceded with an amused shake of his head. “I suppose if he can’t deal with you two he’ll never be able to cope with the insanity that is my life.”
He swatted away Timothy’s hand when the werewolf reached out to ruffle his hair again as he stood. Scooping some snacks out of one of the dishes, the young demon watched Timothy wander off in the direction of the bar, grinning when the werewolf took a detour to talk to the dominant. The dominant looked surprised as Timothy tapped him on the shoulder, then gave a shocked glance over to the VIP area where Harry sat, but wasted no time in following the werewolf.
Harry gave Rick a grin, clinking his glass against the werewolf’s bottle when he raised it. This wasn’t how he had imagined his summer would go, he mused, but he couldn’t imagine it being much better. Befriending the two werewolves was the best thing that had happened to him since getting his Hogwarts letter and he was grateful for all the help they so easily gave him.
Laughing at a comment from Rick and watching a Timothy heading back towards them with an enthusiastic dominant in tow, Harry smiled happily. Tonight was shaping up to be a memorable one.

§`§`§`§`§`§`§`§`§`§

Upstairs, in a room with a window overlooking the club, Shax stood observing the raven-haired submissive. Domovoi stood by his shoulder, though the alpha werewolf was watching Shax more than the scene below.
“Are you going to approach him tonight?” the werewolf asked, breaking the silence. Shax gave him an expressionless look.
“I’m not going to approach a Scouting submissive without being invited,” he answered blandly. “There are enough idiots down there clamouring for attention. If I joined them I’d become another forgettable face in a sea of people who have little chance of being noticed.”
“Right,” Domovoi drawled, giving his boss and best friend of several decades an unimpressed look, “and instead you intend to impress him by hiding up here where he doesn’t know you exist and, what? Hope he’ll have an epiphany and realise the mate he wants is the one who stalks him but never says a word to him?”
“I’m not stalking him.”
“You have Timothy reporting back what he is doing on a daily basis and you are watching him from behind a one-way window as he spends an evening with friends,” Domovoi said bluntly, not one to sugar coat things when he thought his friend was acting like a love struck teenager too nervous to approach his crush. Albeit a teenager with access to an entire underground information network and stupid amounts of money, making it easy to watch the object of his affections from afar. “Short of sitting on his windowsill watching him sleep at night, you can’t get much more stalkerish.”
“This is coming from a man whose courting process revolves around stalking,” Shax said mildly with a raised eyebrow. Domovoi gave him a disapproving look back. As much as he respected the demon, Shax could be like a petulant pup sometimes, especially when he was nervous or worried but didn’t want to admit it.
“We make our intentions known before stalking our intended. You, however, are neither a werewolf nor following proper procedure for if you were,” he pointed out. “The lad goes back to school in September, watching from afar isn’t going to work for much longer,” he cautioned.
Silence fell between them again, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Domovoi was worried for his friend, knowing how much Shax was drawn to the submissive that had unknowingly stirred the demon population into a frenzy. For all the dominant demon’s confidence when it came to business and conducting himself on the shadier side of life, Shax’s experiences with family and mating had been disheartening to say the least. Even if the demon would never admit it, Domovoi knew he was as nervous as a pup going on his first real hunt and the werewolf dreaded to think what it would do to Shax if he was rejected by the first submissive he had shown real interest in for centuries.
“You could come to the game with us tomorrow,” Domovoi suggested half-heartedly. It was unlikely Shax would agree but it was worth a try. “Nobody can complain about you both being invited to the same social event and it would give you an opportunity to meet him without being one of the crowd.”
“I’m not inviting myself into his company and using loopholes in the law to avoid trouble with the Council,” Shax said firmly, his tone warning that further similar suggestions were unwelcome.
“Ah, so using Timothy as a first point of contact is part of some other plan that has nothing to do with loopholes,” Domovoi deadpanned.
“That was as much for Harry’s benefit as mine,” said Shax, not looking away from the window where he could see the submissive in question sitting with the two werewolves and another demon Shax vaguely recognised as one of the smarter youngsters. Smart enough to back down from challenging him, at least. “Having Timothy passing on information is a nice perk but I would have sent him regardless of any benefit to me. Harry’s hesitance to approach the Alley was concerning. Besides,” he glanced at Domovoi out the corner of his eye, lips quirking in a half-grin, “you should be thanking me. Timothy made a new friend.”
“That boy would befriend a bowtruckle if it stood still for long enough,” Domovoi grumbled good naturally. Shax gave him a dry look.
“Then why do you spend so much time complaining to me about how he has no friends you approve of? You seemed pleased when he got along with Harry.”
Domovoi shrugged, “Harry’s one of the few friends he has that isn’t a pack member or connected to his work. He could do with more friends that he doesn’t have to worry about being arrested for associating with.”
“Unless Harry’s species ever comes to light,” Shax snorted. “Last time I checked, knowingly associating with a demon carries a ten year Azkaban sentence.”
“Are you always this miserable when you’re pining?”
“I am not pining. Or miserable. I’m just pointing out the flaws in your argument.”
Domovoi raised a disbelieving eyebrow but said nothing.
The silence stretched, the two men watching the goings on in the club below, until Shax sighed and grumbled, “Your concern is noted and - mostly - appreciated but you can relax. I do know what I’m doing. If I do need your assistance, trust that I’ll ask for it. Until then treat Harry as you would any submissive. And for the love of Merlin, stop trying to set up ‘accidental’ meetings between the two of us before your pack catches on and tries to join in. I’m not sure everybody would survive their brand of ‘help’.”
Domovoi - who had been listening expressionlessly as he tried to work out whether this was his friend Shax complaining or his pack sponsor Mr. Calvey giving an order - snorted, eyes tracking to the result of his pack’s latest bright idea. The velociraptor stalked along the bar, snapping up the odd coin tossed its way and attracting a small crowd of curious onlookers. Habitually his gaze then bounced between the werewolves who had been responsible for trying to recreate Jurassic Park, eyes finally coming to rest back on Timothy.
The beta werewolf, oblivious to his Alpha’s gaze, had somehow managed to gather together a small crowd of demons without a fight breaking out. The seating arrangement had been shuffled around until Harry was sitting between the two werewolves, using them as buffer between himself and the dominants. For reasons Domovoi decided he was better off not knowing, the group had also been joined by a group of vampires, including Dracula’s youngest childe.
“If he causes an inter-racial incident I’ll kill him,” the Alpha said without heat. Next to him Shax hummed.
“Unlikely. Things are steady between your races at the moment and Timothy is quite talented at mixing business with pleasure,” Shax observed, looking over them with the critical eye of the pack sponsor. Then his tone lightened, “I’d be more concerned over who is going to pay for all the drinks they’re consuming.”
The corner of Domovoi’s mouth twitched up, “I almost feel sorry for those demons. The poor bastards won’t know what hit them, or their bank accounts.”
“He is good at his job,” Shax nodded. “Though I prefer him using his persuasive abilities for my benefit rather than to get a few unsuspecting dominants to pay his bar tab.”
“A fight hasn’t broken out yet,” Domovoi pointed out. “I think that qualifies as using his persuasive skills for your benefit.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when a new demon approached the group below, causing a few of the dominants to get to their feet. Shax and Domovoi couldn’t hear what was being said but it didn’t take a genius to deduce that the dominant was shouting at Harry. The other dominants reacted badly to whatever was being said and pounced on the newcomer.
As the two watched, werewolf bouncers flooded the area to break up the fight. Two wrestled with the angry dominant who was responsible for the trouble, eventually managing to restrain him and haul him out of the club. With Timothy’s help, the remaining three bouncers got the rest of the dominants to calm down. The vampires, who had been quietly observing the drama, laughed at a comment made by Rick, relaxing back into their seats. Once everyone was settled again, Timothy ordered a new round of drinks and the drama was quickly forgotten.
“You were saying?” Shax turned to Domovoi, who was still looking in the direction the dominant had been dragged off in.
“What are the chances that there are two dominant demons running around giving submissives a hard time?” Domovoi asked, ignoring Shax’s amused comment. The club owner smiled coldly.
“I imagine it is just the one,” he replied. “A situation I will soon resolve.”
“The lads will still have hold of him by the door if you want to, ah, see him off,” Domovoi said with a slight smile. His tone turned teasing - or as close to teasing as he got, “Better than standing around here, mooning over the submissive you are pining after.”
“The line, you’re toeing it,” Shax said mildly.
“Sorry sir,” Domovoi said neutrally. “Should I instruct Thomas to keep hold of the demon for you to deal with?”
“Don’t bother,” Shax said, turning away from the window and picking up a suit jacket off the couch behind him. “I’ll deal with it now. After all, I need something to distract me from the submissive I’m mooning over,” he said acerbically.
Domovoi winced internally but his tone remained neutral and respectful, “Yes sir. Should I expect you back later?”
“Unlikely. The Council like to drag out even the most cut and dried cases,” the demon said, shrugging the jacket on. “Shut up shop tonight. If I’m not back by morning you’ll need to do the debriefings too.”
Domovoi nodded.
“Right, off to the well of obfuscating and deliberating I go,” Shax muttered. “Enjoy the game tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he left.
Turning for one last glance into the club below before leaving to prepare for the tasks Shax had set him, Domovoi watched the little demon submissive who had befriended two of his wolves and caused such a stir in the Alley. Enjoy the game indeed. Tomorrow should be interesting.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Path Less Traveled