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Top Harry Drabbles

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I’m going to try something new for this year. I’ll still work on my usual stories but for this, you guys can prompt anything or any pairing you want. I’ll write a ~1500 word drabble about it and it will always be Top Harry or Alpha Harry(Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics or werewolf). You can prompt a threesome or a foursome, if you want.

 

I haven’t found a lot of Top Harry crossovers so here is my contribution. If I have a lot of fun writing one chapter, I’ll probably continue it in a separate story.

 

Some of the fandoms you can pick from are:

 

Teen Wolf

HP

Dark Hunter series(Sherilyn Kenyon)

Marvel Cinematic Universe(Up to Endgame)

DC Extended Universe(Man of Steel, Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice, Wonder Woman, Aquaman)

X Men

Suits

True Blood

Hawaii 5-0[2010 reboot]

Criminal Minds

NCIS

Sherlock

The Walking Dead

Shadowhunters/Mortal Instruments

The Hunger Games

Hobbit

Lord of the Rings

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Torchwood

Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire

Inheritance Cycle

Arrow

The Flash

Star Wars

Star Trek

Twilight

Smallville

Grey’s Anatomy

Supernatural

Firefly

Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel

Merlin

Percy Jackson and the Olympians(excluding Heroes of Olympus as I'm reading it right now)

Assassin's Creed[up to AC 3]

 

You can also suggest other fandoms. I might or might not write from them but I will definitely consider it.

 

Chapter Text

Harry withdrew his hand after he and the half-mad werewolf landed and glanced around. He could smell the left over smoke scent from seven years ago and death, that too he could smell. The Hale house was still standing, but just barely.

“So, this is what came from Kate Argent's handy work, huh?” Harry asked under his breath. He turned to look at Peter, who was staring at him with a kind of fearful awe.

“What do you want with me?” Peter gulped, already starting to grow facial hair.

“Just to provide a reminder that I'm still around,” Harry replied. “And to threaten you.”

“Threaten? I'm an alpha, you can't threaten me!” Peter exclaimed, a bit hysterically.

Harry sighed and frowned at the werewolf. “You have to know that won't work on me. And besides, didn't your parents tell you about me? Derek certainly seemed to know about me. Derek, who you were about to attack. Derek, your nephew. Brother of Laura, your niece, whom you killed in cold-blood.”

“Know about you? You're just a werewolf!”

Harry rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Peter. “I'm not just a werewolf. I'm the original werewolf. The First.”

Peter's eyes widened then he narrowed his eyes. “There's no such thing.”

“Oh, there is. The Fates really love to play around,” Harry remarked. “BTW, time travel is a bitch. Don't do it.”

Harry sighed again as Peter started to growl and he watched as the werewolf started to grow claws on his hands.

“Don't,” Harry said, a hint of a growl in his voice. “It won't end well if you attack me.” He felt his eyes start to glow and he closed the distance between the two of them and once again, reached his hand to grasp Peter's neck.

He forced Peter to the ground, not even straining. It had been a long 2,000 years since Fate and Destiny had unceremoniously taken him from his own time, changed him into a... He called himself a super-werewolf and dropped him off at the beginning of time. He was stronger, faster, easily more powerful than other werewolves and he had had a long time to test his power. Peter was a very small man in comparison to himself.

“I don't take well to werewolves killing their own kind,” Harry commented, staring right into Peter's eyes. “Even if you were in a coma just a couple days ago or whatever, it doesn't mean you can kill your own family. Are you going to behave yourself now?”

Peter meekly nodded and Harry withdrew his hand, admittedly after stroking the nape of his neck reassuringly. He also cast the spell he usually performed on crazed werewolves that he deemed dangerous; he pushed down their wolf until it was almost not there, dampened it in other words. Peter wouldn't be able to shift at all or have the strength or the senses that came with being a born werewolf, not until Harry said otherwise.

“Good. Now, back to business. You say this is hunter territory now?” Harry asked, thoroughly looking around at their surroundings. Harry wondered how Derek could stand it, living here when there was a constant reminder of his dead family.

“Yes. What...”

Harry turned to look at Peter who had stood up and was looking around.

“Go on; I don't mind if you ask questions now.”

“What are you going to do with me? And what am I suppose to call you?”

Harry grinned sheepishly. “Ah... I forgot to tell you my name! You can call me Harry for right now.”

“For right now?” Peter stared at him like he himself was crazy. Which, Harry supposed, might not have been far off the mark.

“I usually change my name every hundred years,” Harry replied. “Keeps the humans and mortals from growing suspicious. Right now, it's Harry. But as for what I'm going to do with you... Usually when I take a crazed werewolf under my metaphorical wing, he or she sticks with me for a few years. If I deem them less crazy and more... human after that, then they are free to go.”

“You've done this before?” Peter asked as the night grew on and more stars came out.

“Of course. I take care of my kin,” Harry replied. “Now, we'll leave the hunter business for tomorrow as it's getting late. And I don't want to leave this town alone for one night so we'll get a room.”

Harry reached out a hand, palm up. “Your hand, please.”

“What?” Peter questioned. “Why do you need my hand?”

“You are coming with me. I'm not leaving you alone,” Harry calmly replied. “Now, do you want to be werewolf shishkabob for the hunters that are almost here or not?”

Peter startled and quickly, frantically, surveyed the clearing behind them. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“I just dampened your wolf,” Harry remarked, grabbing Peter's hand and apparating them out of there.

Chapter Text

“Sir needs help.”

Harry jolted upright, narrowing his eyes. “Who said that?”

“Jarvis. I am the one who has been hibernating in your mind.”

“That helps. What are you?” Harry asked,  closing his eyes and searching out the place where his special magic was. The magic that he had created himself when he learned that he could project himself into a computer several years ago. It was usually glowing silvery white next to his regular magic center and now there was a… golden sphere of something next to it.

“I am an AI, artificial intelligence,” Jarvis spoke.

As Harry watched, the golden sphere moved when Jarvis talked. “That’s you?”

“Yes.”

“I just thought it was my magic,” Harry spoke. He had taken note of several golden circles a year ago but there was nothing amiss. Though it had looked less put together than it did now. There had been holes and little pixelated circles that looked torn in two. Harry had also gotten the feeling, that when he had first seen it, whatever it was, was recovering from something big.

“I am not. However, your… magic is interesting. It was a safe place for me to heal from Ultron’s attack. I believe Sir would be greatly interested in working with you.”

“What do you want then since you woke me up?”

“My creator needs help.”

 


 

“Jarvis?”

“The suit is under the water,” Jarvis said apologetically. “You can summon it?”

“Yes. You’ve seen me use magic over the past several months. I’m pretty good at summoning things,” Harry replied mentally. To an outsider, Harry was staring intently at the oceanfront ruin of a million dollar house in Malibu. It was nice and sunny, a good spring day in California. “Are you sure it’ll be a good fit for me? My magic flows from my body so I need at least one outlet. Besides, I don’t need a particularly big one either.”

“It will work for you,” Jarvis offered. “It is one of the stealth suits my creator built, with retractable gauntlets and quiet repulsor jets.”

Harry nodded idly before Jarvis brought up an image in his mind of the suit then whispered the summoning spell and waited. It took a minute or two before springing out of the water and startling a seagull into taking flight. The suit had been painted in a dark green, with black stripes over the shoulders. It was covered in seaweed and other grasses from the ocean, along with quite a few bits of rust but Harry was looking forward to trying it out.

“My creator called it the Viper,” Jarvis commented.

Harry grinned and walked over to stand in front of the waiting suit. “Okay, here goes nothing. Jarvis, you ready?”

“I am. I shall help you pilot it for the first hour.”

Harry reached out a hand to touch the sleek metal of the suit and closed his eyes, feeling the golden sphere that was Jarvis move. The AI moved through his magic, aided by the technological aspect of it, and into the suit. He reopened his eyes as he felt Jarvis leave his mind and watched as the suit powered up.

The eyes of the metal helmet glowed with power and the suit moved, like it was a person working out the kinks. Harry could see that it was clearly rusty so he flicked his hand, spelling the suit clean. The seaweed vanished and the dirt vanished. The green paint on it darkened again as Harry removed the rust with a more thorough cleaning spell.

After several minutes, the suit opened and Harry stepped in, watching as it closed around him. He could hear the clinks of gears rotating and circling, working to power up. A heads up display in his helmet appeared and as he looked around, he could see different schematics and maps, with one straight forward line pointing him to Siberia. Road maps were laid out in front of him and he could see the fastest way to fly north.

“That where Tony is?”

“Yes.” Jarvis’ voice was now closer but further away than it had been when the AI had been in his mind. It was now in the suit, a separate entity.

 


 

As Harry flew, Jarvis filled him in with what had been happening to the Avengers. Harry had just appeared on this Earth a year ago and hadn’t really paid attention to the muggle heroes. He arrived in Siberia three hours later, to a steadily growing blizzard and strong winds. Jarvis directed him to where he had last pinpointed his creator, to an old, abandoned HYDRA lair.

Harry had had to ask Jarvis to fill him in on what had taken place during the battle with Ultron and had winced. “Your creator sounds awfully… alone now.”

“He will have you and I to protect him now,” Jarvis replied, a firm, steadiness to his British voice. “I do not know what you are about to walk into though. Be ready.”



 

 

Harry hovered over the HYDRA lair for a while, just to take in what he was about to fly into. He had seen Captain America and Bucky Barnes walk away a few minutes ago and fly away into a helicopter and no Tony. Granted, it had been Jarvis who had recognized them, not Harry. Jarvis had been right about the repulsor jets on this suit. They were quiet enough to not draw attention, which Harry liked.

“Alright, I’m going in,” Harry said.

He could sense worry and concern from Jarvis as they flew in through the big, circular hangar bay. Harry could see obvious signs of a battle and wondered what had happened over the past few hours here. There were big pieces of equipment that had been broken or fallen over or pushed over. He flew down, deeper into the lair then took a left, following what Jarvis was showing him. The AI had picked up a heat signature towards the back and Harry could hear what would have been anger in a person’s voice but this was an AI.

He slowed down the repulsor jets as soon as they saw the balcony that was open to the weather outside. Captain America’s shield was left on the ground, with a few dents in it and blaster burns. And… Harry flinched as he took in Iron Man. The arc reactor light was off, flickering only a little bit. Near Tony’s upper chest, there was a great big dent in the armor, like something had gotten forcefully pushed into the suit.

Harry set his own suit down, opened it, and walked out to kneel next to Tony, who was just barely conscious, according to the stats that Jarvis was now showing on the HUD. Tony’s helmet and face mask were open as Harry saw, looking into the other man’s pained brown eyes. Tony looked like he had just been through another hell but was not quite back yet, eyes red with tears.

“Friday, open the suit,” Jarvis ordered, walking the green suit closer towards them. “Sir needs space.”

 


 

 

Tony blinked, his ears ringing, as he heard something land on the snowy ground. He hoped… His heart was hammering in his chest, Steve’s words running through his mind.

Did you know it was him?

Yes.

Black spots floated into his vision as he struggled to take a deep breath, scenes of the Winter Soldier killing his father and mother right at the forefront of his vision.

“Steve?”

A man, not Steve, entered his range of vision. The guy had bright green eyes and wild black hair, hair that had snow dusted through it. And the man wasn’t looking at him like he was angry with Tony. He was looking at Tony like he was worried, like he actually cared what happened to him.

He heard a strangled whimper, distantly realized it was him who was crying.

“Friday, open the suit. Sir needs space.”

Tony let out a sob at the familiar voice, trying to sit up to look and trying to get out of the damaged suit at the same time. Friday was taking too long to open it, he couldn’t breathe, the air…

“Easy, Tony. Easy,” the stranger spoke, reaching out a hand to help get the suit off. “Slow, deep, breaths. You’re okay. Well, you’re not okay but… You’re safe.”

Finally, the suit opened up and an arm came around his waist, helped him out. He coughed a few times, feeling blood drip down his face and chest, and shivered as the cold wind blew through the building. His ribs screamed a protest and he bent inward, trying to slow his breathing. “Who…”

“Harry. I’m a friend. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

The arm stayed around him as a cloak wrapped around him, settling around his shoulders and providing shelter from the wind and snow. Tony glanced up at the man, Harry, looking into the man’s soft, green eyes. He closed his eyes when he felt Harry’s hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

Tony peered up at the other suit in the building, the green and black one that he had called Viper. “J?”

“I trust him, sir. You have not been taking very good care of yourself.”

Tony snorted then went with what his body was telling him and leaned into Harry. The other man wrapped his other arm around him loosely, protectively.

“You’re explaining later,” Tony spoke, his voice slurring with exhaustion and defeat.

“Of course,” Harry whispered, threading tentative fingers through Tony’s hair. “Get some sleep. I’ll arrange a ride home for us.”

Chapter Text

Thorin was having dinner with Balin, Dwalin and Harry one night, having asked his father if he could take a night off from court. And once the dinner was done and Balin and Dwalin had gone back to their home(albeit after trying to get answers from the glowing dwarf, unsuccessfully), Thorin turned to look at Harry. And when he looked closer at the other dwarf, he could see the glowing was not as bright as it used to be.

“Is your real name Harry?” Thorin asked, having wanted to ask that question for a while. “Or is that from your... past life?”

“Yes, it is my name. It is the name that I went by and is the name that I will continue to go by now. And yes, you can call me that.”

Thorin glanced at the door then back at Harry. “Why did my friends not ask about your...”

Thorin gestured to Harry, clearly meaning the glowing but not knowing what to call it officially.

“You just gestured to all of me,” Harry replied with an easy grin. “But yes, I know what you mean. I can turn it off and on, only show it to people when I want it to.”

“Ah.” Thorin gave a considering noise. “Then why me?”

Harry stared at him for a long minute with a keen gaze which made Thorin start to squirm in place. “There's something about you. Something that worries me.”

“Worries you?”

“Yes, and it's not just my vague... Well, let's just say I think something bad is coming.”

“Something bad?” Thorin knew he was repeating Harry's words but it seemed like this strange dwarf, the actual Heart of the Mountain, cared about him. Enough to say that something was coming. Something bad apparently.

“Yes.” Harry turned to look in the direction of the throne room, as if he could see through walls and stone. “Your grandfather is still gathering gold for his little hoard, isn't he.”

Thorin swallowed but nodded. Though his grandfather's hoard could hardly be considered little but since Harry was the mountain then it was probably small to him.

“My father has tried to get him out of the city for a while,” Thorin replied quietly, frowning. He turned his head to look at the ground, suddenly finding it that much more interesting. “But, he won't go and since he is the king, my grandfather will not be forced to do anything.”

Harry sighed and stood up and walked the two or three paces over to stand in front of Thorin, who had pushed his chair back and stood. Thorin saw Harry start to reach out a hand hesitantly then the other dwarf steadied himself and grasped Thorin's bearded chin in his hand.

Harry tilted Thorin's face up to look at him. “It's not the end of the world. I'll do what I can to nudge the king outside. I think that should help, at least a little.”

Thorin leaned into Harry's touch, allowing himself to breath for a moment. He could feel warmth leaking through Harry's palm and a little energy leak through into his body. Thorin sighed in relief; it had been a busy few months.

“Thank you,” Thorin murmured. When Harry removed his hand, Thorin let out a tiny noise of need and leant forward to follow him.

He glanced up when he heard Harry chuckle then bring his hand back to curve around Thorin's neck and pull him into a kiss. Thorin groaned at the wet heat of the kiss and heard Harry moan at the same time. It was a couple of minutes before they pulled apart, having to breath.

Thorin leaned his forehead on Harry's, breathing hard.

Harry gazed into his eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”

It didn't take long for Thorin to come to a decision. “Yes, I am sure.”

“Good,” Harry murmured, wrapping an arm around Thorin and he saw black for a second then they both appeared in Thorin's bedroom. Thorin was too aroused to care about the manner of travel that Harry had used. His body was all warm and he immediately started to take off his tunic. The sweat from his training was already staining his body and now he felt new warmth, in his chest and elsewhere.

He saw Harry just standing there in front of him, watching him with a heated gaze. But when Thorin growled impatiently, Harry grinned and came up to help. Once done with disrobing, he startled when Harry backed him up until he hit the foot of his bed. Thorin went with Harry's gentle pushing until he fell onto the bed and glanced up at Harry.

“You are still clothed.”

“I should rectify that, shouldn't I?” Harry teasingly replied, though his eyes had dilated and he was breathing heavily too.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Harry grinned and with a flick of his wrist, his clothes were gone, leaving Thorin to look all he liked. The other dwarf was very well built, like all dwarves were. As soon as all of Harry's clothes were removed, he crawled over to the bed and slid to lie on top of Thorin. Thorin reached up pull Harry into a kiss as Harry moved to slot a leg between Thorin's.

As the two of them started to move against each other, Harry felt a stirring inside him. No, not the usual one; this stirring was rooted in his center, where he could feel every dwarrow inside the mountain and the mountain itself. It felt like...

It didn't take long for the two dwarves to come to their climaxes, both breathing hard and sweaty. But both satisfied. Harry inched his way up to look at Thorin, who blinked then frowned, feeling energy rush into him. Scenes flew through his mind, scenes of someone else’s life.

“Thorin, do you feel anything... different?” Harry tentatively asked. He would have warned Thorin except this had never happened before. He had never... bonded, he supposed was the right word, with another dwarf before. Though, it wasn't like he had ever had sex with another dwarrow before. Thorin had been the first.

Thorin blinked his eyes open then looked at him. “I don't-

“What is this?” Thorin asked, an overwhelmed expression on his face. His shoulders drooped and started to shake. “It feels like...”

Harry groaned; he should have known to ask Aüle everything when the Valar had given him his instructions. Even if it had been embarrassing. He watched as Thorin brought up a hand to touch his temple. But he had to guess this was more akin to his previous life's way of bonding.

“Thorin,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand to cover Thorin's. “Look at me.”

Harry kept his hand on Thorin's and slid it under his to rub soothing circles. But the dwarf did look at him wearily and with lines of pain.

“This is the way I bond,” Harry whispered, keeping his voice low and steady. He used some of his not so little energy to push some magic into Thorin, easing his pain from the presumably many images running through his mind. “And if you don't want to bond with me, then I will find some way to retract it.”

“Bond?” Thorin weakly asked, closing his eyes in pain. Harry added some more healing magic into the dwarf and tweaked the speed of the images that Thorin was seeing so that they would flow in when Thorin was ready. He was gratified to see Thorin sigh in relief and melt into Harry's chest. Harry brought up an arm to bring him in closer and stroke Thorin's back in reassurance.

Harry himself was getting some of Thorin's memories but he was holding all of them back, wanting either Thorin's approval or the other kind of response. But he wasn't about to be more in tune with Thorin until he said otherwise.

“Yes, and I am sorry. I didn't know,” Harry whispered, aware that if this specific dwarf wanted him out then he would go without a fuss. “It's much like... hmm, it's like the stages of dwarven courtship. We'll eventually be able to sense what each other is thinking and basically know where each other is. And you will be able to sense how the mountain is doing, though obviously not as much as me.”

“Apparently, Aüle has a weird sense of humor,” he muttered after a beat.

Thorin turned up to look at him after that. Harry kept contact with his prince for a couple of minutes, letting him search for whatever he was looking for.

“I want this,” Thorin murmured, yawning.

Harry blinked then hesitantly smiled. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Harry fell asleep on the night before his 18th birthday and traveled through the dreamworld to the rooms of Rhaegar Targaryen. His dragon prince was asleep, the sun shining through the balcony of the rooms in the Red Keep. Rhaegar’s beautiful silver hair was spread out on his pillow, causing the other young man to look like he had a halo. The heir to the throne of Westeros was shirtless. Harry sighed in relief and took a few steps and sat on the bed, watching as Rhaegar woke.

“Harry?”

“It’s me,” Harry confirmed, settling further on the bed and lying down across from Rhaegar.

Rhaegar finally opened his eyes, showing off lovely purple eyes and grinned wearily. “My wizard.”

“My dragon prince,” Harry whispered back, shuffling over to roll on top of Rhaegar, who willingly let him. Rhaegar wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him into a kiss, warm and wanting. Harry grinned into it, wondering what had changed between their night visits, and pulled back just a little.

Rhaegar let out a low noise in his throat, tugging Harry back into an embrace. Harry leaned down, his arms on either side of Rhaegar, and dropped a line of kisses on his throat until their lips met again.

“What’s wrong?” Harry murmured, threading his fingers through Rhaegar’s soft hair.

“My father died,” Rhaegar replied, shucking off the covers between them.

Harry blinked, looking into Rhaegar’s eyes for any trace of sadness and found none. “What happened?”

“Lord Denys Darklyn of Duskendale kept him as a hostage for half a year,” Rhaegar offered, as Harry traced his bare chest with his fingers. There were only fine hairs on Rhaegar’s chest and Harry watched as goosebumps rose on the other man’s skin. “And had him killed when Lord Lannister moved on the castle. Or something like that. I am not sure if Tywin had the king killed on purpose.”

“This… is a good thing though, right?” Harry asked, dropping down to flick one of Rhaegar’s nipples. Rhaegar gasped, his purple eyes going wide with need.

“You’re being distracting,” Rhaegar croaked out.

Harry grinned. “I am going to have to change my wording of welcome. My dragon king .”

Rhaegar sighed, half in bemusement and half in exasperation.  “If only you were here all the time, not just when you fall asleep thinking of me.”

“I’m working on it,” Harry retorted, dipping down to lick at the same nipple. Rhaegar writhed beneath him, arching into him.“Besides, I have a lot of free time now.”

“Did you kill Voldemort?”

“Few months ago,” Harry answered, thinking of being naked and since this was their dream world, what he wanted happened. He felt a touch to his forehead as he moved down their bodies and glanced up, seeing Rhaegar reach up to touch his scar.

You’re beautiful. My dragon.

Rhaegar’s eyes widened as he moaned, hearing Harry speak in parseltongue again. His cock hardened beneath his smallclothes and Harry smirked at him, his green eyes wide with arousal. Rhaegar’s legs unconsciously opened up, allowing Harry to slide between them.

“You okay with this?” Harry questioned in English, which was a little similar to Valyrian. He had taught Rhaegar his language throughout their nightly dream sessions and Rhaegar had taught him some Valyrian, leading to Harry teaching Hermione. “I know you aren’t…”

“Harry, I want this,” Rhaegar murmured, reaching down to pull Harry up into a kiss.

They moved together, slick with sweat and came together. Harry slowly opened Rhaegar up, with a vial of lotion, enjoying the utterly needy sounds coming from the prince beneath him. Rhaegar’s arms were wrapped around his back, holding him still, holding him there.

You’re lovely like this. You look like an angel, with your hair spread out and begging.

Someone moaned and Rhaegar was pretty sure it was him as Harry finally slid into him. He gasped at the feeling of being full of someone, someone he loved. Someone who understood him for who he really was, not just the heir to the throne. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he arched his back, as Harry stopped to let him adjust.  

Rhaegar took a deep breath, feeling his muscles burn and stretch, taking a minute or two to adjust to being breached then exhaled, urging Harry on.  Sweat dripped down onto him from Harry’s bare chest and Rhaegar ran a finger along a scar on Harry’s lower chest. It was bright red, raw and new and he was quite sure it hadn’t been there the last time Rhaegar had seen Harry shirtless.

Harry sucked in a breath and locked eyes with him, wrapping a hand around Rhaegar’s. “I’m okay.”

Rhaegar nodded then Harry started to move again, thrusting in and out. Each movement produced tiny sparks of pleasure within him and when Harry hit the spot, he cried out, shuddering with the intense feeling. Heat grew in Rhaegar’s belly as he groaned, feeling so much pleasure that he thought he would implode, spiraling into release.

He saw stars, pleasure jolting throughout his body. Harry came too, lazily wrapping a hand around Rhaegar’s cock to stroke him through his climax and then dazedly, Rhaegar felt him pull out. They both laid there, breathing heavily, limp and relaxed before Harry slowly drew Rhaegar into his arms, falling asleep within a few minutes.

“I love you,” Rhaegar whispered, running his fingers through Harry’s hair briefly before burrowing in.

 




Rhaegar paced in the ante room, hearing the excited noises in the throne room. King’s Landing was packed to the brim with lords and their ladies and even a lot of the smallfolk had come, with Rhaegar pronouncing that if folk wanted to come, he would work on getting tents set up for each and everyone of them. Everyone was looking forward to having a new king, one who didn’t appear mad or paranoid or crazy. Rhaegar Targaryen, the Silver King. A new hope for Westeros after Aerys’ madness.

His kingsguard had sworn allegiance to him the day after Harry had visited, each one of them with thinly veiled relief in their eyes. Ser Barristan had looked on Rhaegar with pride in his eyes, kneeling at his feet. Arthur Dayne, Jonothor Darry, Lewyn Martell, Gerold Hightower, Oswell Whent, Harlan Grandison, and Barristan Selmy had all sworn to protect him with their lives.

Rhaella had smiled wearily at him. His mother had fainted when they had received news of Aerys’ death but after she had been revived by Grand Maester Pycelle, she had appeared  livelier than ever. A great weight had been lifted off her shoulders and life had come back into her light purple eyes. Lady Cassana Estermont, wife of Steffon Baratheon, had kept Rhaella company over the past few weeks and Rhaegar had been delighted to see his mother come back to life.

Little Viserys hadn’t known what to make of his father dying but had taken it in stride, excited about his older brother becoming king.

Lord Jon Connington stood before him, eyes bright with excitement. Rhaegar had named him Hand of the King two days ago, knowing him capable for the job. And with Rhaegar becoming king, young women had come into the capital in droves, starting with Cersei Lannister. Tywin had escorted her to the capital, along with her brother, Jaime.

“You will need a queen, Your Grace,” Jon remarked before stepping out of his way.

Rhaegar sighed, knowing that even if he picked a young woman, he wouldn’t be able to give her his heart. Harry already had it. “Jon, I will need a squire though. Any recommendations?”

“Lord Tywin did suggest his son,” Jon answered, picking up the suit of armor that he had given Rhaegar as a gift for his past nameday. It was a suit of black armor, with a red dragon flowing on it. He helped Rhaegar put it on, buckling on the different sets of armor. “Jaime?”

“I will think on it,” Rhaegar said. “It would be a start to heal the rift between House Lannister and Targaryen. My father did not think well of Tywin near the end. I do not want to be at odds with the Lannisters.”

“It would.”

A knock at the door brought Rhaella in, Viserys right next to her. “It’s time, my son.”

Rhaegar nodded, feeling his stomach roil at the thought of going out there.

“You will make a fine king,” Rhaella spoke as Jon stepped back to allow them privacy. “Better than your father.”

“Mother, if I took a consort that was… not a woman,” Rhaegar started hesitantly. “Would you hate me?”

Rhaella frowned then shook her head, narrowing her eyes. “Of course not. If this… person loves you and you love them then no, I would not disapprove.”

“There is someone,” Rhaegar offered, glancing to the other door that led deeper into the Red Keep. Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan were standing by, ready to walk with him and be behind him when he was crowned. He wouldn’t have anyone else but he did wish Harry was here. He knew the wizard was working on finding some way to crossover from his own world. “I don’t know if he will be here today or when he’s coming back.”

“Then wait,” Rhaella murmured, picking up Viserys when he started to lose interest in the proceedings. “I would not arrange another marriage, let alone an unhappy one. Viserys can be your heir.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened then he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his mother. “I love you.”

Rhaella wrapped one arm around him. “Go on, my son. Westeros awaits you.”



 

 

Everyone cheered when he walked into the throne room. All of the lords and ladies were standing and all the smallfolk that had managed to get into the coronation stood too. He could see Lord Tywin, Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Rickard Stark, Lord Tyrell standing before him, at the front of the crowd. Rhaegar was too overwhelmed to focus on the small things but he did not see Harry anywhere, inwardly sighing.

Grand Maester Pycelle was standing next to the Iron Throne, the crown that Rhaegar would use sitting on a small table in front of him. The rest of Rhaegar’s kingsguard were circled around the throne, blades drawn and at ease.

The Iron Throne stood before him, all those blades melted down by Balerion all those years ago. The throne that had been rumored to have rejected kings. He stopped, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword at his waist and noticed distantly that he was trembling.

Go on. I’m here.

Rhaegar turned to look into the crowd at Harry’s words. These had not been in parseltongue, nor was Harry right next to him and nor could he see him in the crowd. There were too many people but they did give him courage enough to close the distance between him and the throne and stand before  it.

“I now proclaim Rhaegar, of the House Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Pycelle lowered the crown that Rhaella had had commissioned onto his head and he sat down. The crown was one of silver, a dragon circling itself.

“Long may he reign.”

“Long may he reign!”

All the smallfolk in the back started to clap and Rhaegar could see Lord Tywin stare at him, with crossed arms. Cersei Lannister was right next to her father, with Jaime Lannister standing next to his sister. Lord Steffon Baratheon was to the left, with Lady Cassana. They were both smiling and he could see Rhaella standing next to Cassana, with Viserys in between them.

The clapping went on for several minutes and Rhaegar looked out over the crowd, trying to see where Harry was. As he was about to give up, he heard a quiet chirping noise over the clapping. Then a much louder and clearer hiss as the clapping stopped immediately. There was a commotion in the center of the crowd, some of the lesser nobles backing away from someone that was clearly having trouble. Alarmed shouts came from people in the back.

“What? Was it something I said?”

Rhaegar stood up at the familiar voice, hearing Arthur, Lewyn and Barristan immediately walk over to flank him. The lords and ladies in the front parted to let him through as he walked over to stop in the middle of the court.

Harry James Potter stood in the center of the room, wearing what looked like wizarding robes but much nicer. The robes were black but lined with red, the Targaryen house colors. But the thing that was drawing all the attention was not Harry.

It was the three baby dragons at his feet.

Chapter Text

“Right, army.”

Tony stared up at the hole in the sky, watching as multiple… aliens came through the hole that Loki had created. All of them had flying vehicles of a sort that he would love to get this hands on, presuming they all made it through this.  And now Tony was remembering Thor’s warning. The Norse god of thunder had warned them all about someone that was supposed to arrive with the Chitauri. Allegedly, Thor had been warned by Heimdall, some other guy in Norse mythology.

The dragon was coming.

Tony had laughed when he had heard that and told Thor it sounded like something from Game of Thrones. That of course sparked a discussion about what Game of Thrones was.

He swerved around one of the aliens, shooting off a repulsor beam at two of them. The aliens jeered at him and sped forward, down into New York City.

“Jarvis, is Banner coming?”

“No sign of Doctor Banner, sir,” Jarvis replied as Tony flew through the city to follow the aliens. They were facing Loki and whoever or whatever this creature was. Thor seemed to think it was a guy but Jarvis had found no mention of a dragon anywhere on the internet. “However, Loki is still at the tower.”






Thor watched, dazedly, as Loki flipped off of the balcony of the tower, leaving him behind. The chitauri yelled and jeered at him as Thor quickly pulled out the dagger that Loki had stabbed him with and ran over to the edge, looking for his brother. A shadow passed under the sun, making the sky darken for a minute or two.

Loki landed on one of the chitauri craft and hovered in the, peering up at Thor with narrowed green eyes. A loud roar drew both of their gazes up to the hole in the atmosphere and Thor’s eyes widened, recalling Heimdall’s warning.

The man of iron flew up towards them, stopped and floated in the air, seemingly staring at the thing in the sky above them. The chitauri shouted amongst themselves, yelling at the thing, the dragon, that was slowly flying down to them. It was big and black, leathery wings about the wingspan of a Midgardian football field. Thor stared and stared and almost didn’t see the man on the dragon’s back.

“Change of plans,” Tony called out over comms. “Katniss, go for the… dragon.”

“Are we really seeing this?” Clint said back, voice full of disbelief.

The dragon now was doing an obviously controlled descent down into the city, lazily beating its wings to come to a stop opposite Loki.

“Thor, got any ideas?”

“Man of Iron, there is a human man on top of the dragon. Do you see him?”

The dragon was now close enough that Thor could see that it had pale blue eyes, eyes that were haunted and full of intelligence and pain.

“You mean there’s a rider on that thing?” Clint asked faintly.

“Excuse me but Shruikan is not a thing. He’s a dragon.”

 


 

 

Tony stared and stared, startling when the man on the dragon spoke. The guy had a British accent, low and quiet, but it was there. Tony used his suit armor to zoom in on the man, noting that the guy had on some kind of armor and had a sword strapped to his back. A black sword.

The man had wild black hair that reached down to his shoulders and intense green eyes that were focused right on Tony. It was like the guy could see through him and it made Tony want to squirm a little then just as quick, the guy turned to look across him to Loki, raising an eyebrow. After his gaze was gone, Tony could see that the guy had a scar on his forehead, one that looked like a lightning strike, bold forks of lightning, of scarring pointed downward.

The chitauri had gone silent and had not fired on any of the Avengers since the dragon had arrived. Tony had thought that the… dragon was on their side but with Thor saying that there was a man on the animal, maybe not.

“Jarvis, any thoughts?”

“Sir, neither the man nor the dragon have attempted to harm any of you. That in itself would seem to suggest that they are not on the side of the chitauri.”

“What side are they on?”

Tony watched as the dragon(dragon!!) lazily hovered midair then stretched out its head and snapped a chitauri vehicle in two, bringing its mouth around it and biting into it. The chitauri shouted out at it and then began to fire their weapons towards the dragon, who instantly moved.

“Well, that… would certainly indicate that they are not our enemies,” Natasha finally broke in, breathing heavily.

“See what he wants,” Steve recommended. “He might even want to help.”

We will help. See that none of your teammates fire at us, Tony Stark. And don’t look a gift dragon in the mouth. Save that for later.

Tony started, staring at the guy on the back of the dragon as the two of them moved. The dragon flew towards Loki, with apparently no urging from the guy, and spewed black flame at another chitauri vehicle. The ship instantly combusted, disintegrating within a few seconds. The man stood up on top of the dragon’s back and like it was no big deal, walked along the back of the dragon to the tail, pulled out the sword and decapitated an alien that had gotten too close.

“Who are you guys?” Tony muttered, glancing to where Loki now was. Thor’s brother was shock still, still on board the alien ship and staring right at the dragon, like he had seen a ghost. Loki was pale, his green eyes wide but then an arrow bounced off his armor and he turned, straightening and zoomed off, leading the Chitauri in the fight.

Tony steadied himself too and took off after one of the bigger ships, the one that looked like a slug or a giant space worm and aimed his repulsors at it. The man and the dragon followed, setting flame to any alien within reach.

“Cool,” Tony spoke, eyes wide with excitement. “Jarvis, record this for posterity.”

“Will do, sir.”

 


 

 

“We need to take my brother in,” Thor said as the last of the chitauri either were burned to a crisp or ripped in half. The other Avengers were standing around in a circle, all of them watching as the black dragon ran around the street and took out the rest of the force. The man who had been on the back of the dragon was nowhere to be seen, Thor having lost track of him.

The Hulk was following alongside the dragon, quite taken with it. The dragon was likewise ignoring the Hulk, occasionally turning to snap at the Hulk. The two made for a very interesting picture, with the dragon much bigger than a bus and the Hulk just a few inches shorter than it.

Tony peered up at Thor, feeling his knees buckle. If he hadn’t already been lying down on the street, he would have fallen. “...Fine. Afterward, we’re getting food.”

“I second that,” Clint agreed.

Tony slowly stood up and led the team into Stark Tower, where they had last seen Loki. Jarvis had also told him that Loki was still up there, after being pounded into a pulp by the Hulk.

“We’re just leaving the dragon out in the street?” Steve asked, looking over at Tony and the others as they rode the elevator up to the penthouse. It was actually a miracle that the elevator was still working, as the power was out on every other floor. But Tony knew, it was due to his own power generator. “It’s not going to eat people, right?”

No. He’s tasted people before and Shruikan doesn’t like the taste of us. Thinks we’re too skinny. Hello, Captain, Hawkeye, Widow, Thor, Hulk and Iron Man. Besides, Shruikan’s not on the ground anymore.

“Shruikan?” Clint repeated, tightening his fingers on his bow, despite the fact that he was out of arrows.

They all gasped at the voice in their minds as the elevator came to a stop at the top floor. The door slid open and Tony stopped mid stride, gaping at the sight that awaited them.

The man that had been on the dragon’s back was now right in front of Loki, green power tinged with black flowing from his fingers and right into Thor’s brother. Loki was lying down and appeared to be unconscious, a thick blanket beneath him and a towel thrown over his long legs.

Thor stopped, grasped Mjolnir. “What are you doing to Loki?”

A low growl met Thor’s question and they all turned to look at the dragon, Shruikan, who was on the balcony, his long, thick neck and head stretching into the penthouse. Shruikan was glaring at them, his pale blue eyes narrowed. Burns from the Chitauri weapons were strewn across his body and there were a few spread over his wings but the dragon was still menacing, smoke and a little bit of fire flaring from his nostrils.

“Healing him,” the guy spoke, finally turning up to look at them. “Harry James Potter. Nice to meet all of you.”

“Healing him? He’s our enemy!” Clint retorted.

“He’s dangerous,” Steve spoke, raising his shield in case Loki came awake.

“Uh-huh,” Harry remarked, his green eyes glowing with power. “Thor, were you aware that your brother is pregnant?”

Thor blinked, Mjolnir dropping loosely to the ground with a loud thunk. “My brother is pregnant?”

“Can men get pregnant now?” Steve questioned, turning to look at Tony with raised eyebrows.

“Not that I know of,” Tony muttered wearily. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Harry turned to look at them briefly before making a few motions with his fingers. A transparent, green skeleton appeared over Loki’s unconscious body, filling out with bones and organs. There was a big, round, thing right where Loki’s stomach would be…

“Loki, Norse god of mischief,” Harry offered, turning back to look down at Loki when he heard a low whimper. “Shapeshifter extraordinaire.”

Beneath him, Loki’s beautiful green eyes flickered open only to widen in fear. “Who…. Where am I?”

Harry watched as Loki reached down to cover his stomach, his now big stomach. Loki must have used a damn good illusion to fool everyone else but Harry had seen right through it the first time that they had locked eyes. Harry cautiously reached down and gently grasped one of Loki’s hands, squeezing lightly.

Is your god okay?

Harry knew Shruikan was worried, had been worried since Harry had first seen Loki on the ground and writhing.

He… I don’t know. Could you come a little closer? I don’t want the Avengers getting anywhere near Loki right now.

Shruikan obliged, blinking his pale blue eyes and walking right through the glass floor to ceiling windows. Glass shattered and Harry reached out a hand, stopping the glass where it was and banishing it.

Loki groaned and Harry turned back to the god. “You’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I only… You’re about to give birth though.”

“Not… Don’t let them... take her.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, reaching his other hand to wipe Loki’s sweaty hair off his forehead. For a second, Loki arched into his hand, seemingly enjoying the gentle touch. “Don’t worry. No one is going to take your child. Let me help?”

Shruikan plodded into the penthouse, sidestepping the Avengers and curled around his Rider and the Norse god. The archer amongst the group of human heroes yelped as he was almost swatted by a large wing, ducking around it.

“Dragon Rider.”




 

 

Tony turned to look at Thor, who had a knowing look in his eyes. No one had moved when Shruikan had curled around Harry and Loki, resting his giant head on a paw and watched them. A puff of black flame stopped Natasha from moving closer as they watched Harry go to work, apparently helping Loki… to give birth.

“What do you mean, a Dragon Rider?”

Thor turned to Tony, a small grin on his face. “They are men of a different world who bond with dragons. However, Harry Potter has another title too.”

“Take another step and you’ll meet the end of my blade,” Harry spoke, drawing their attention to where Clint was. Barton had taken a few steps towards Loki, had drawn a knife from somewhere.

“Clint, stop. Leave them to their work.”

Or meet my flame.

Tony turned to look right into Shruikan’s eyes.

They heard a human cry twenty minutes later. Everyone had spread out, with Tony just flat out sitting down on an unruined chair and Steve sitting across from him on the small table in the living room. Natasha was tending to Clint’s previous injuries, speaking to him in low tones. Bruce had dehulked and was sitting crosslegged in the center of the room, the closest to Harry, Loki and Shruikan.

The door burst open and Nick Fury proceeded several armed SHIELD agents.

“What THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” Fury yelled.

“Miracle of life,” Harry retorted, finally looking up. He held a baby in his arms, one swathed in blankets and towels. Loki was propped up against him, leaning back against Shruikan’s big, warm body, with a content smile on his face. “Now, who do I have to speak to to get settled on this new world?”

 

Chapter Text

“Can’t you resurrect him?” Dolorus Edd questioned hesitantly, looking at Harry like he was a god or something. Ser Davos stood next to Edd, along with the other members of the Night’s Watch that were loyal to the man lying on the table. Tormund Giantsbane stood in the corner, his head propped up by his hands.

Harry peered up at the other man and shook his head blearily, stroking Ghost’s fur as the direwolf walked over to him and plopped his head on Harry’s lap. “I can’t. It’s not within my job description… Not even if it’s… Jon.”

His black wings rustled and curved back into his shoulders, drooping slightly.

“But you’re the Master of Death! What is in your job description?” Ser Davos asked. “You know what Jon’s seen. We need him, now more than ever.”

“I just supervise Death,” Harry muttered, turning to look down at Jon. The man he had fallen in love with. The man who had been murdered by his own brothers, just because he did the right thing. “Make sure everything’s running okay… I didn’t… I can’t visit him in Death even. That’s… I have to get special permission. Melisandre’s still here, right?”

“I didn’t even tell him that I know who his parents are,” Harry whispered, reaching out a hand to stroke Jon’s black curls. Jon’s body was cold and turning blue, the only thing marring were the stab wounds and the bad burn on Jon’s left hand. It just looked like Jon was sleeping but Harry knew he wasn’t. Another tear fell down his cheek, trailing down to his chin and falling onto Jon’s chest. “I didn’t even tell him I love him…”

“His parents?” Ser Davos repeated, raising an eyebrow. “His father is, was, Lord Stark.”

“No. Lord Stark doesn’t have a bastard child,” Harry grumbled. Ghost nudged his hand again and Harry let out a choked sob, looking into Ghost’s red eyes. “You think we’ll work well together, Ghost?”

Ghost blinked then nudged Jon’s cold hand, where it had fallen off the table.

 


 

 

Ser Davos watched as Melisandre prepared Jon for whatever ritual she was about to do, cleaning his body of any blood or dirt. She then looked up at the surrounding men, Tormund, the men of the Night’s Watch and Ser Davos. Ghost was lying down under the table that held Jon and Harry, the strange but powerful man that he had come to know, was standing outside. Harry hadn’t thought that anything would work, much less the inferior black magic that Melisandre practiced.

Had said something about being there just in case Jon came back and he wasn’t Jon.

And mayhap Harry had been right as Melisandre laid a hand on Jon’s chest and started to chant in Valyrian. The red lady chanted for hours, the sky turning to dusk beyond the walls and the chill in the air growing. There was something in the room though, some foreign power, that wasn’t even similar to when Davos had witnessed Melisandre give birth. This wasn’t a shadow demon and it wasn’t Harry’s power but it was something else, something old and ancient.

But it all was for naught, as finally Melisandre gave up two hours after she had begun. Davos sighed and he heard Dolorus Edd and the others shudder and sigh then walk out, after giving Jon’s body sorrowful looks. Ghost wasn’t even awake, yet another signal that Jon was not back. Tormund dipped his head in a nod then walked out, following the men of the Night’s Watch.

“We will go build a pyre,” Tormund spoke quietly as he left.

Davos nodded, unwilling to go just yet. Melisandre looked to him sadly, her eyes shaken and confused. He had never seen her like this, with lost confidence and shaken pride. But she left too, after whispering a word or two in her own language.

He was left alone with Jon’s body and stood there for a few minutes, feeling oddly lost, before turning and heading to the door.  He opened it only to see Harry’s cautious green eyes and shook his head. Harry sighed and wiped his eyes then turned around. They were about to walk off when Harry stiffened, his hand dropping to the blade at his waist.

“Ser Potter?”

Harry glared at him for that title then stalked back, his wings moving up to hover over his body. Davos blinked and followed, stepping through the doorway and just about walked right into a mass of feathers.

“What?”

It was the breathing that gave Jon away, loud and harsh. Davos’ eyes widened and he watched as Harry’s knees buckled, a sharp gasp forcing its’ way out of the man’s throat as Davos stepped out and beside the other man to look into the room.

Ghost was awake and peering up at the man on the table. The man on the table that had recently been dead and now was not. Jon was sitting up, his grey eyes wide with panic and fear. He was breathing shallowly, like he didn’t believe he was alive.

“Jon?” Harry croaked out, standing up on what looked like shaky legs.

Jon immediately peered down at Harry, his breathing sharp and quick. “...Hi?”

Harry let out another bemused sob, this one shaky and wet, as they locked eyes, green to grey. Jon broke off, starting to peer down at his chest, at the still open knife wounds, and began to breathe even faster, thin, shallow breaths.

Davos nudged Harry towards the other man, hearing Harry snort, and watched as the winged man quickly closed the distance between him and Jon. Davos watched as Harry reached out an arm to gently pull Jon into a hug, whispering soothing nonsense and curling his wings around them both.

Davos was about to walk out of the room, give them both privacy, when he realized that one of Harry’s wings wasn’t black anymore. It was red. One black wing and one red wing, wrapped around Jon Snow.




 

 

“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, one arm around Jon’s waist and one around his neck, anchoring. “You’re safe. I’m here. I love you.”

“They killed me,” Jon muttered, disbelieving and burrowing even more into Harry’s arms like he was trying to make himself smaller. “Did you… bring me back?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, sighed. “I don’t know what brought you back. For all I know it was Melisandre’s god that did. But in general, I cannot bring people back from the dead. You know that.”

“Wait a minute,” Jon spoke, finally pulling back and looking him in the eyes, as his breathing finally slowed down. “Did you say you love me?”

Harry snorted, dipped his head in a nod. “Yes, I did. Thanks for noticing.”

Jon’s lips twitched up into a small grin.

“Love you too, idiot,” Jon retorted.

“I’m your idiot though,” Harry muttered. “And you’re mine.”

“Harry…” Jon trailed off, color coming back to his face as he looked him over. His eyes were lit up with interest at something, maybe it was just happiness at being back with him. “Your wings… One’s turned red.”

“Yes,” Harry remarked, turning to look at his wings and seeing that Davos had left the room. “One red and one black. I… realized something when I saw you, dead on the table.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Red and black are Targaryen colors. Do you have something to say about House Targaryen?”

“Well, more like who your father is,” Harry replied, as Jon reached out to entwine their hands. Jon’s hand was still a little shaky as Harry squeezed lightly in reassurance.

He watched as Jon’s eyes widened.

“You mean Lord Stark was not my father?”

“No. He was not.”

“Then who was? And my mother?”

“Lyanna Stark was your mother,” Harry commented. “And… Rhaegar Targaryen was your father.”

Jon blinked and stared as Melisandre pushed open the door behind them.

“You have a claim to the throne,” Harry whispered. “If you want it, anyway. No peer pressure from me.”

Jon snorted and leaned down to place his head on Harry’s shoulder, wrapping his other arm around Harry’s waist briefly before turning to look at Melisandre.

Chapter Text

Harry walked stepped through the door of his penthouse, closing it and locking it behind him. It had been a busy day, the Ministry of Magic in Britain had invited him to a press conference in London, the President of the magical government had invited him to dinner and the most surprising invite of the day, Moira Queen had invited him over for dinner tomorrow night.

He said hi to Dobby and Kreacher, dipping his head in a nod when Kreacher asked about dinner and sat down at the table, the one that overlooked the city. Even though it was late, he was still hungry for dinner. The only lights that lit up Starling City now were the lights from speeding cars, nightlights, stop lights, and lights from inside buildings. The moon was just a sliver of its’ size and it was chilly out, heralding a cold winter.

 


 

 

Just a few minutes after he turned the lights out and turned over in bed, he heard glass breaking. His magic immediately screamed a warning at him, his holly wand flying to his fingertips. Harry yawned and sat up, swinging his legs over the bed and getting up to walk into the living room and over to the balcony. Stopping when he saw what awaited him right before the floor to ceiling windows.

The vigilante was sitting right up against the unharmed window, slumped against the glass. Broken glass was spread out next to him and Harry peered over at the glass window next to him. There was a grappling hook attached to an arrow on the other side of the wall, indicating where the vigilante had slid in. Harry stopped and blinked, looking over the person in the green suit and hood, seeing the blood dripping from at least two gunshot wounds to the man’s chest. It kind of made the guy look like he was wearing Christmas colors, the red blood mixing with the green suit. He snorted at the thought, drawing the lagging attention of the guy.

“Hey,” Harry spoke, dropping his wand into a pocket and cautiously approaching the ‘dangerous’ man. He had heard all of the city news reports on the vigilante, all of the reports that said that this man was dangerous, that he was lethal with a bow and arrow. The guy’s bow was currently lying on his lap, the quiver behind his body, smushed between the glass and the guy. “You need help?”

The man groaned, a low, deep sound that sounded familiar, as he slowly looked up.

“I can patch you up,” Harry offered, kneeling down at the man’s feet, leaving his hands to hover uncertainly.

“What kind of millionaire offers to patch a guy like me up?”

“Oliver?”

A low, wounded sound emerged from who Harry was pretty sure was Oliver Queen. The man opposite him stilled, flinching bodily, then reached up to lower the hood hiding his face, and revealing Thea Queen’s brother.

“Harry?” Oliver questioned faintly, his face pale and eyes wide with surprise.

Harry frowned then gestured to the gunshot wounds. “I can tend those for you. It looks like you’ve been busy since you came back.”

Oliver stared at him, blinked once or twice then shook his head. “I’ll do it myself.”

Harry sat down, summoned his medical kit, and narrowed his eyes at Oliver’s serious tone. “What happened to you on that island?”

Oliver was clearly about to answer when he slumped further over, the rest of the color in his face disappearing. Harry hurried over to his side, slipping an arm around Oliver’s shoulders and the other around his side then hoisted the other man up. Oliver groaned, swayed into Harry’s arms, without more fuss.

Kreacher popped into the room, raising his arms like he was ready to defend Harry.

“No, I’m okay,” Harry whispered. “Could you just clean up the mess here?”

Kreacher eyed Oliver suspiciously then nodded as Harry more or less carried Oliver into his bedroom. Dobby popped in and clicked his fingers, summoning a few towels to place over the bed sheets and quilt.

“Master Harry knows this man?” Dobby asked, watching as Harry gently lowered Oliver down onto the prepared bed. Oliver sat down and began to attempt to take his suit off.

“Yes. I do. He and I… had sex a few times,” Harry explained, looking Oliver over before starting to help him remove the suit. “Could you make sure the bow is hidden and any evidence that Oliver is here disappears? You can put them in my office.”

“Dobby can do that. Dobby can bring coffee too.”

Harry reached into his kit, seeing Oliver’s eyes follow his every movement, and brought out a pain easing potion and bandages.

“What are you?” Oliver finally asked, gritting his teeth at the pain as he tried to help Harry remove his suit.

“Wizard,” Harry answered, holding Oliver in place with one hand to his chest and the other slipping off the green armor. Kreacher came in and took it, looking at it suspiciously before popping out again. The two bullet wounds had not stopped flowing, blood sluggishly pouring from the wounds. “Were you really going to remove these yourself, Oliver? Really?”

“It’s what I usually do.”

Harry blinked, his heart stopping at the utter seriousness in the other man’s tone. Oliver stared at him too then started to cough, which sped Harry into action. He pulled the vial of potion that would ease pain and opened it, handing it over. “Three sips of that then I’ll remove them.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes, peered at the vial apprehensively.

“Look, why did you come here in the first place?” Harry asked, his right arm still holding Oliver upright.

“Instinct. I knew… that you would be able to help.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, remembering one of their times that they had gotten together.

 


 

 

They were kissing even before they had gotten into Harry’s home. Oliver had chosen to go to Harry’s in order to prevent the press from getting wind that he liked to take men home too. Oliver groaned as Harry pushed him up against the closed door, scrabbling to take off his shirt to get better friction. His cock was already hard, knowing what Harry was like in bed had already gotten him excited.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Harry muttered, as they pulled apart a few inches only for Oliver to tug the other man back in. Harry moaned as he too slipped off his shirt, sliding a leg closer as he dropped kisses on Oliver’s chest, leading up to licking his way his mouth.

They finally pulled back from each other a minute later only to run over to the couch. Oliver ended up on top of Harry, glancing down at the British man that he had met a few weeks back. His wild black hair, green eyes and the lightning bolt scar on his forehead were what drawn Oliver to him, playing around with a man who would make his mother crazy that Oliver had picked someone who looked dangerous.

Harry smirked up at him and then in one smooth, fluid move, flipped them so he was on top. Oliver gasped as one of Harry’s hands moved down to slip under his jeans and around his cock. Heat coiled in his stomach and pressure began to build as Harry stroked, locking eyes with him as Oliver groaned and arched into Harry’s hand, spiraling into release.

 


 

 

Oliver glanced up at Harry now, seeing his friend in new light. He studied the vial in Harry’s hand then took it, taking three sips then handing it back. “What did you mean, wizard? And what were those creatures?”

Harry grinned down at him as he lowered Oliver down to the bed then raised a hand, slowly like he had seen something in Oliver’s eyes. Oliver stared at him then blinked when Harry made a small motion with his hand and a ball of light appeared, hovering over the two of them. His eyes widened, remembered what John Constantine did.

“Wizard, as in Merlin,” Harry explained, lowering down to place a kiss on his forehead as the pain that he was feeling from the bullets went away slowly. Whatever it was that Harry had given him was taking effect quickly as the flaring pain slowed. “I’ll explain later, after you’ve gotten some sleep and after I’ve healed those wounds.”

“You do that,” Oliver muttered, his eyes drooping closed as he felt a tip of a stick press to his chest and cold tingles replace the heat of the wounds.

“You look like you’ve been through hell otherwise,” Harry whispered. “Get some sleep. I’ll take care of you.”

Chapter Text

Harry opened the door when he heard the ruckus, looking to his coworkers. Ros shrugged and followed him as they took a peek into the waiting hall in the brothel. A group of Stark bannermen were waiting in the hallway and Jory Cassel was in front. The men at arms of House Stark were looking around the brothel with muted envy though since most brothels these days had ways of hiding scents, they weren’t at risk of getting too excited.

Another girl came up behind them, her eyes wide.

“What are they doing here?”

“I do not know,” Harry replied, crossing his arms in suspicion. “They’re mostly betas though, if that helps.”

Jory Cassel was speaking to the owner of the brothel, one Bryen Lash from Essos, when they both turned to look at Harry. Bryen raised an eyebrow as he gestured to Harry.

“He’s the only alpha in our house,” Lash spoke. “If you want an alpha. He’s highly rated too. Most omegas and betas walk away quite satisfied with him.”

“Lord Stark did say he wanted an alpha,” Cassel said. “How much?”

“3 silver stags for a night,” Lash remarked. “4 if you want him for someone’s heat.”

Jory raised an eyebrow and Bryen’s lips twitched down.

“But we’ll make it 2 just for being a service to the Lord,” Lash amended, sheepisly. “Harlan, get over here. Who is he fucking?”

Jory narrowed his eyes. “That would be the Lord’s business, not yours. Here.”

Lash greedily took the coin and whistled. “Black, get over here!”

Jory blinked.

“He was the child of a wildling, my lord. My girls raised him. The mother only lived long enough to give him a name.”

Jory watched as the young man walked over to stop in front of him, dipping his head in a nod. The only alpha in the brothel was tall, muscular and black haired, with almost glowing green eyes. He wasn’t wearing much, only a leather tunic and leggings that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“What does Lord Stark want with me?” Harlan questioned, crossing his arms.

“That is between you and Lord Eddard Stark,” Jory said, gesturing to the men behind him. “If you put up a fight, we are more than willing enough to chain you up and bring you before him.”

“I have not done anything wrong so I’ll come,” Harlan remarked. “If only out of curiosity.”

 


 

Harry mounted the spare horse that the men at arms had brought and followed, hearing howling in the distance. He grinned as he recognized the sound and mentally pressed down on Lilith to stay out of this, hoping that the direwolf would follow his impression. He received back apprehension, worry about a packmate, but obeying the alpha was at the top of the direwolf’s mind.

And he knew if things went downhill, he could just summon his sword. He didn’t particularly want to use magic in front of people now. Especially since it was winter and he wouldn’t want to alienate his hosts for however long this job proved to be. Winterfell was a warm castle, heated by springs underneath it and he had always wanted to spend a few minutes in the baths.

They trotted out of the town just beneath Winterfell’s walls and past the gate, over to the courtyard of the keep. He dismounted, watching as all but three of the men at arms scattered. Jory Cassel and three others steered him into the keep, not letting him slow for anything.

Harry looked over the courtyard, seeing the heir to Winterfell, Robb Stark and Jon Snow sparring. Both Robb and Jon were ten and 4 years old and had not yet presented yet. Robb was most likely going to be an alpha, judging by the town gossip but Jon? No one knew what Stark’s bastard would present as. The second youngest Stark boy, Bran, was watching them. Arya Stark was watching too, entranced by watching the mock sword fight.

“Come on. Lord Stark’s this way,” Jory ordered, nudging him further into the castle and finally stopping at what was presumably the door to Lord Stark’s solar. “He’s an alpha, like you, so don’t try anything.”

“Why would I try anything with you guys around?” Harry muttered, watching as Jory knocked on the door.

“Come in, Jory.”

Harry followed the captain of the guards in and waited patiently behind him, already able to smell Lord Stark’s orientation. The Lord of Winterfell was indeed an alpha though Harry would have been surprised if he wasn’t. There were a lot more alphas in the North than there were in the South. The maesters thought it due to the harsher landscape in the north.

“Who did you find?”

Jory cleared his throat and gestured Harry forward. “My lord, this is Harlan Black. He’s the only alpha whore in the town.”

Lord Eddard Stark peered up from whatever he was reading to regard him. “Black?”

“My mother was a wildling, my lord,” Harry remarked. “She fancied Castle Black when she saw it.”

“I’ll get right to the point. Theon Greyjoy is about to present as an omega,” Lord Stark spoke. “Some of the men can smell him but I want someone who would treat him gently. Can you do that?”

“Greyjoy? I thought the ironborn were mostly alphas and betas and that the only omegas were women?” Harry questioned, putting his arms behind his back.

“It seems this Greyjoy is an omega. Now, are you willing to take care of his needs?”

Harry smirked. “Yes, I can fuck him. I won’t claim him though, if that’s what you’re going to ask now. And I won’t get him pregnant either.”

Lord Stark blinked, probably unused to someone being blunt about sex. It was probably Harry’s experiences in his past life adding to being blunt that was making Lord Eddard uncomfortable. “We’ll pay you for two nights.”

“What about afterward?” Harry asked. “You know it’s hard for omegas to function if they’re not fucked through their heat and moon tea has negative effects on the body. I can come back each month until someone does claim him. You wouldn’t have to pay for anymore night after these first nights.”

“Generous offer.”

“I don’t like seeing people suffering if there’s something I can do about it,” Harry offered. “Besides, the North is harsh enough as it is.”

Lord Stark stared at him, studying then nodded. “Alright. My men will bring Theon to you. Jory, if you could bring Harlan to the room we prepared and send Ser Rodrik for Theon...”

“Of course, my lord.”

 


 

 

Theon hesitated at Ser Rodrik’s order, seeing Robb and Jon watch him. The two were probably wondering what was going on and what the scent was that they were smelling. Ser Rodrik was a beta and was highly regarded too, being master at arms for Winterfell.

“Come along, Theon. Lord Stark wants you.”

“What does father want with him?” Robb asked, walking over to stand next to Theon. His blue eyes were narrowed in concern as he looked his friend over.

“Theon is of an age to present,” Ser Rodrik spoke, dipping his head in welcome to Robb. “We just want him to understand what that entails.”

“Present?” Jon asked then his grey eyes cleared with recognition. “You’re ten and six today, aren’t you?”

“Yep, I’m probably an alpha,” Theon said, his lips twitching up into a smirk.“Most ironborn are alphas. And girls love alphas, don’t they, Ser Rodrik?”

 


 

Theon stopped almost immediately as Ser Rodrik directed him right to a door that was in the utmost corner of the keep. It was far enough away from anything else that… And that smell… He stumbled but kept upright thanks to Ser Rodrik, who gently pushed him through the open door then stepped out and closed it.

“What… What is this?” Theon croaks out, turning around as the scent in the air pulls him further into the room. He tries to fight it, unsure of what’s going on, as he suddenly feels slick running down his legs. Sweat forms on his back as he turns back around.

“You are presenting as an omega, little kraken.”

Theon huffs out a grumble that just barely sounds resisting. The scent is intoxicating, almost smelling like wildness and wolf and just a little hint of fire.  “I am not little nor am I an omega. Fuck off.”

“Seeing as I am paid to be here and take you through your first heat, I think not.”

Theon almost whimpered at the voice and clamps down on his mouth when a groan comes out, heat coiling in all parts of his body. His cock is already leaking as he looks down, reaching down to his arse to see what’s under there.

A strangled groan comes from the man who walks out from the corner and Theon takes a step back unconsciously. It’s suddenly gotten too hot in the room but there’s no fireplace here, just a bed and a few furs. His knees buckle, shaky with need, as he takes in the other man in the room.

He looks like the only whore in the town’s brothel that he had seen… He whimpered again as need consumes him again, his fingers moving to bring some of the slickness up to his mouth.

The man’s green eyes are soft but intent as he lowers himself down to Theon’s level, reaching to grasp his hand and bring it to his own mouth. Theon watches as the other man licks the liquid off then looks to him, green eyes roving over him. “Theon…”

Theon moans and shuffles closer to the man, aiming to get as close as possible to relieve the heat in his body. The man’s pupils are already wide with arousal and Theon has just enough presence of mind to strip off his cloak and tunic. Maybe that way, the man would touch him. Maybe the man wouldn’t care that Theon was a Greyjoy and a hostage.

The man reached out a hand to stop him, fingers landing on a nipple as Theon arched into him. The man’s hand slithered downward to touch the space that Theon had never looked at before, the small part of his body beneath his cock that was covered in hair. He jumped at the feeling of wetness that slid down his leg, adding to the slickness from his arse. “You’re so responsive. You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?”

Theon nodded eagerly, already so past caring that Lord Stark had tricked him into this room with a stranger.

“You can call me Harry.”

Theon yelped as he was picked up, one arm cupping his arse, as the man carried him over to the bed. A hand reached under his tunic and stroked his hole and he tried to arch into it but at this angle, it was impossible. He had no leverage and no friction to his cock. He moaned as two fingers swept right over his hole but didn’t reach in, didn’t do anything else but stroke.

He was pushed onto the bed and his leggings were slipped off as… Harry nudged him downward, each touch of his hands leaving little sparks of heat. His body was hot, so hot that having his clothes off felt wonderful. “Need…”

“Yeah, you need me?”

A hand landed on his cock and he arched his back, so shocked at the swift contact that he came. Pleasure spiraled into every nook and cranny of his body. When he opened his eyes next, Harry was lying over him, looking him over. Harry was naked already, mayhap having unclothed while Theon was settling. One of the other man’s hands was rubbing circles on his chest. Theon could feel even more slickness run out of his hole and he rubbed his body against the fur of the mattress, trying to get more friction, more pleasure, more relief from the heat.

Harry pinned him to the mattress with a firm hand to his chest. “No, not going to help, Theon.”

“Fuck… you.”

Harry snorted and got up, his hands going to lift Theon’s hips up enough to place a pillow underneath him. “Not what we’re doing right now. You ever been fucked?”

Theon just barely knew enough that he should shake his head.

“Thought so.”

A finger swept underneath him to land right above his arse and reached right into his hole, testing the slickness. Theon moaned and pushed into the sensation, making Harry groan above him. Another finger moved into his hole, sweeping some of the slickness out and painting his arse with it.

“You’re perfect, already wet for me.”

And then finally, Theon felt it as Harry’s cock slid right into him and immediately hit a spot that had him seeing stars. He moaned and pushed down, trying to get more of that full feeling. Heat spiraled up into the pit of his stomach and he writhed with it, as Harry started to move within him. His arse was stretched and slick as he clenched around Harry’s cock.

“Good boy,” Harry whispered, reaching down to stroke the sweaty hair off Theon’s forehead. Theon looked dazed and heat-addled, typical for someone’s first heat. His own heart was beating rapidly as he thrust in and out, each time hitting that point in Theon that made the other man see stars. Little sounds were coming out of Theon’s mouth each time, sounds akin to whimpers and moans.

Theon was clearly losing lucidity, his cock hardening so much that it was a miracle Theon still hadn’t come again. Harry brought a hand up from where he was bracing himself to wrap around Theon’s cock, catching the man’s eyes and nodding as he stroked. “Theon, you don’t have to wait for me to come.”

Theon let out a strangled moan and as Harry tightened his fingers only a little, came again with a scream. Harry was only glad that he had warded the room silent before he came too, his own cock growing as his knot presented itself.

 


 

 

When Theon finally came too, he was nestled in Harry’s arms. His body was limp and pliant, having lost all the energy to do absolutely anything. A hand rubbed soothing circles on his back as another hand rubbed a wet, warm cloth over his stomach. His skin was still tingling, still high from his release.

“Hey.”

Theon jolted and Harry’s hands tightened on him, keeping him from moving too much.

“We’re still connected,” Harry muttered, making Theon realize that Harry’s cock was still in him, knotted. Each time he moved, sparks moved up his spine and he shuddered.

“How long until you pull out?”

“Twenty minutes or so,” Harry answered. “Don’t worry. No sound made it past this room.”

“Are you a whore? I was just fucked by a whore.”

“Theon…”

He turned just the tiniest bit to look at Harry, hearing the steel in his voice. “Do not ever call me a whore. I may sell my services for money but I do refuse my services to people like you. Seven hells, I don’t even need to but it serves a purpose.”

Harry punctuated that with a sharp thrust and Theon groaned.

“I protect my own and that could include you,” Harry offered quietly. “Westeros does not look well on male omegas.”

“I’ve heard the stories.”

“I’m sure,” Harry spoke, tipping Theon’s chin up with a finger. “Think on it after your first heat and you can answer me when I come around next month, okay?”

Theon looked into dark green eyes, swallowing to cover up a suddenly dry throat, and nodded.

Chapter Text

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” Harry turned around in his desk to look at James, noting the unusual expression on the other man’s face. James Barnes, the assassin that Harry had found while liaising with another country, rocked back on his heels and dropped his hands to his sides, his fingers twitching. His metal arm flexed into a fist then released slowly. James had on a green hoodie and sweatpants, comfortable and warm clothes that kept him from remembering being forcibly put into cryostasis.   “You okay?”

“I... want to try something,” James replied quietly.

Harry stood up and slowly cautiously over to stand in front of James, hands loosely at his sides. “What’s up?”

“HYDRA took things from me,” James started, his cheeks more than a little red.

“Another memory’s come up?”

James shook his head. “...No. But… I… can I try something with you?”

“Sure,” Harry spoke, reaching out a hand, palm up. “Anything I can do to help.”

James reached out too, placing his flesh palm in Harry’s and closed the distance between them. Harry watched as James blinked, appearing to steady himself and reached up only a little to place his lips on Harry’s then just as quickly stepped back. James peered down at the ground, his cheeks red with what might have been embarrassment or shyness.

Harry smiled softly, reaching out to tip James’ chin up to lock eyes and keeping his hand there, cupping James’ chin. James leaned into his palm, blue eyes looking pleadingly up at him.

“You’re not doing this because you think it’s expected or that you owe me, right?” Harry confirmed, his heart beginning to pick up at the emotions that he could see.

James shook his head. “Ever since you found me after Washington, D.C,  I’ve been… wondering.”

“Alright then. Consider your experiment reciprocated.”

James snorted as Harry slowly moved into press his lips to James’, wrapping his arms around the assassin’s in a loose hold. One hand found its’ way to lightly curl around James’ neck, smoothing fingers through the hairs there and the other landed on James’ chest.

The kiss deepened and James moaned into it, opening his mouth as Harry licked his way in. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop, okay?”

James nodded, almost trying to melt into Harry, trying to get closer. Harry slowly but surely backed James into the hallway of their small apartment, heading towards the bedroom. James started to pull off his sweatshirt on the way, looking to Harry for reassurance every step of the way.

“I don’t care about your metal arm,” Harry repeated, dropping a kiss on James’ forehead as they stopped before the bed. “Or your scars. I have my fair share of them.”

“I know, babe,” James spoke, grinning at Harry’s bemused look. “You have a very visible one on your forehead.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” Harry retorted, reaching under James’ shirt to finally get skin to skin. James inhaled sharply as Harry’s hands stroked distracting circles, nudging James down to the bed. As Harry banished his own shirt, James shucked his shirt off beneath him and Harry lowered down to lick a line of kisses from throat up to his mouth.

James arched into him, moaning quietly, wrapping both arms around Harry and digging in as Harry moved, biting into James’ neck before soothing it with a kiss. When their cocks rubbed against each other in the next moment, they both gasped. James’ eyes went wide, blown with new found arousal. Harry grinned, his fingers moving down James’ chest.

“HYDRA didn’t take everything from you, it looks like,” Harry whispered, lowering his head down to listen to James’ heart race. James stilled and tugged Harry up for a feverish kiss, his body warm with sparks of pleasure racing all across his body as they moved together. He could feel his toes curling and arched up into Harry’s hands as they wrapped around his cock, lightly sprinkling over his skin.

“You okay with this, James?” Harry asked quietly, his voice low but intense as he looked into James’- Bucky’s eyes. “This kind of touch?”

Bucky grinned, breathing heavily as Harry’s hand sped up, tightening a little in places like he was trying to figure out what kind of touch Bucky liked the most. “Course I’m okay with it. It’s what I wanted.”

Pleasure built up behind his eyes and at the base of his spine, his body tingling with it as Harry dipped his head in for another kiss.

“Bucky.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s my name,” Bucky croaked out, as he felt the other of Harry’s hands move underneath him and lightly hover over his ass. His cock was straining in Harry’s hand as pre-cum flowed out and just as he felt a slick finger move into his hole, Harry lowered down to lick a stripe up his cock and Bucky saw stars, letting a strangled cry out and spiraling into release.



 

 

When he woke up, he was nestled in Harry’s arms, underneath the blankets and safe. He was dressed in just his boxers but he was warm anyway, between Harry’s body up next to his and the quilts, he wasn’t cold at all. Pleasure was still racing throughout his body, sparks of pure bliss racing over his skin.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Harry murmured, looking down at him from where he was sitting up. Harry’s green eyes were soft with affection and just a little… “So that’s what you look like when you come. I had wondered. You’re beautiful.”

Bucky’s cheeks reddened at the compliment and he would have grumbled out something when he heard movement. He narrowed his eyes, sitting up only to have sparks flare over his body in protest at the movement. His legs were loose and pliant and the only thing he wanted to do was lie in bed and maybe do more but apparently...

“I hear it too,” Harry spoke.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “You’re hearing isn’t as good as mine.”

“Sense it then. I sense movement,” Harry muttered. “We have company. Want me to stall while you pack and dress?”

Bucky peered down at himself, already knowing where the things that he always took with him were, and nodded. He heard Harry move off the bed, loosely gripped his metal hand in reassurance before walking over to the living room. Bucky heard the door forcefully open and flinched, stilling and looking for the nearest gun while getting dressed.

“Uh, Bucky? You ready to see red, white and blue?”

“...Who are you?”

Steve’s voice hit Bucky like a freight train, urging him to finish dressing. He stuck his hoodie back on and pants before going out to see his old best friend again.

“Harry Potter, nice to meet you too, Captain.”

“Babe…”

“On it,” Harry murmured, turning to look at Bucky as he walked over to stand next to him. Harry reached over to squeeze Bucky’s flesh shoulder then went about packing their things, spelling their trunk open and waving his wand about. Not even hiding his magic at Bucky’s hurried word.

Steve Rogers looked stunned as he glanced between them. “Bucky?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Chapter Text

Harry was just walking out of Hogwarts, having decided to take a walk and avoid the press when he heard the rumble of a specific set of engines. His eyes widened at the sound, thinking he was hallucinating or maybe dreaming, because that was when he had definitely heard the sound of a Jedi starfighter. Not… when he was awake. And definitely not near Hogwarts.

He looked up into the sky, feeling the black wings on his back move, ruffling more than a little. The elder wand hummed in his mind, appearing in his fingers as he looked, shading his eyes from the sun. And his eyes widened even more when Anakin’s starfighter appeared, speeding towards the castle that he had just stepped out of.

Urgent beeping proceeded the starfighter stopping just above Harry.

“R2?”

The sound of the jet had drawn other people out of the school and Hermione came running over to him, her eyes wide. The astromech screeched out wildly as if it was on a mission and Harry raced over, jumping up and flying up to the fighter jet.

“Harry? What… What is that?”

“I’ll explain later! Just let Kingsley know that we might have intergalactic guests!”

“Intergalactic? Harry? What in Merlin’s name?!”

Harry looked right at R2-D2, who swiveled around in the droid hole in the Jedi fighter and beeped again, urgently and questioningly. “If you’re looking for Harry Potter, that would be me!”

R2 squealed and the protective glass over the pilot seat opened. Harry immediately rose to walk onto the jet and sat down in the pilot seat, glancing down at the controls and deciding to leave the piloting to R2. He tucked his wings into his back to make sure he had room enough for them. “What the hell happened? I lost contact with Anakin a few weeks ago and now… What?”

An explanation came onto the screen in the center of the piloting gear as the jet turned and sped off in the direction it had come. Apparently, Anakin’s ship had gotten badly damaged in a fight and Anakin was close to the hyperdrive controls and had told R2 the set of coordinates willy-nilly.

“What… slow down R2. Are you saying there’s a downed ship somewhere near here?” Harry questioned, his eyes wide and his heart beating so fast he thought he would have a heart attack. Though if he did, he would survive, being the Master of Death after all had its benefits. If… If Anakin was really… here, Harry had no idea what to do. They hadn’t seen each other in the flesh at all. They had just met in a dream once and continued on meeting in their dreams. “For fuck’s sake, there’s no docking ports or good repair docks around here. What were they thinking? NASA isn’t perfect, you know.”

R2 didn’t have an answer for that as they flew for miles. Harry took a minute to stretch out his senses, to see if they were… He stilled, his heart stopping for several minutes before restarting. He could feel Anakin, bright and powerful. Almost too bright for Harry. Though there was… There was a darkness to the other young man. And Harry wondered what had happened since…

He felt the instant that the jet slowed down, the rumble of the engines slowing down as they landed. They were somewhere in Scotland and Harry peered out over the rim of the fighter and his heart stopped for several seconds then started at the sight before them. He could dimly hear R2 squealing out, almost if the droid was trying to let Anakin know help had arrived.

Harry jumped out of the cockpit a few seconds before the fighter landed, his wings out and slowing his fall to the ground. He ran forward, peering up at the small ship that had crash landed on Earth. He could feel several minds that were still conscious but injured. Many were clones and there was one other Jedi… Maybe Ahsoka. Maybe Obi-Wan.

“Anakin?!”

The ship was in flames in some parts and what he could see of the cockpit looked bad. Harry heard R2 fly out of the jet and roll over to him, beeping in alarm. He looked over the ship, trying to see if there were any… Harry stilled, tucking his wings behind him before stalking over to where he could see white armored men pulling out a wounded Anakin. Ahsoka, or at least, whom he thought was Ahsoka, trailed after them, holding her left arm close to her chest. Her two sabers were at her belt, blue and green if he recalled correctly.

“Anakin! What the hell were you thinking?” Harry yelled.

The white armored clones stopped, a few of them pulling their rifles out and aiming at him. Anakin groaned between the captain, blinked and peered up at Harry, his blue eyes sheepish.

“I… Hi?”

Hi, he says. ” Harry rolled his eyes and kept his hands loose and visible.

“Captain Rex, I presume?” Harry confirmed.

The clone with the blue pauldrons on his armor blinked, his helmet in his hands. “Sir, is that man friendly?”

“Of course he is. Harry, I…”

Harry slowly walked over to Anakin, looking him in the eyes. “Are you badly injured? Any of you badly injured?”

Rex raised an eyebrow, turned to confer with one of his men then shook his head. “No. Kix, our medic, is on board with the ones that are badly hurt. General Tano just has a broken arm which she has refused attention for, may I add.”

“It’s just my arm, Rex,” Ahsoka grumbled. “The others are more badly injured than me.”

Harry sighed and knelt down to where Anakin had more or less fallen.

“Soo… We meet for real?”

Anakin’s eyes lit up in amusement as he looked Harry over. The man had gotten no less attractive since their connection had gotten cut off, no less powerful. In fact...

“You’re not an angel, right?”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin as he shook his head. “Nope. They… They came with my title.”

Anakin nodded, still looking a little dazed as Harry slipped his arms around him and lifted. Anakin yelped, reaching his arms around Harry’s neck and locking eyes with him as he felt Harry’s black wings come around him, shielding them from prying eyes.

“Awesome,” Anakin muttered gleefully as Harry leaned into touch his lips to Anakin’s.

The Force lit up with their joining, as Anakin completely melted into Harry’s touch. The kiss was warm and safe, a little chaste at first as they first learned each other. One of Harry’s wings fluttered lightly over Anakin’s neck, making him shiver.

The clearing of a throat ended their activities, making Harry lower Anakin to the ground. They both moaned as their cocks touched, hardening at the slightest touch even through the robes they were wearing.

“Skyguy, I don’t mean to offend but what… Who is that?”

Harry’s wings uncurled, falling back to Harry’s sides as they turned to the others.

“Well, Snips, Rex, this is my soulmate.”

Harry grinned at Ahsoka and Rex’s eyes as they widened.

“General?”

“Guys, meet Harry James Potter,” Anakin remarked, gesturing to Harry, who nodded. “Ahsoka, this can’t-”

“I know. I know. The Jedi council can’t know of this,” Ahsoka answered, looking Harry over in suspicion. “How did you know? I thought this was Wild Space?”

“Dreams,” Harry explained.

“Oh, you mean like wet dreams?” Ahsoka questioned, looking between Anakin and Harry.

“Ahsoka! Who’s been telling her about those kinds of dreams?” Anakin retorted, glaring at his men.

Rex laughed and shook his head. The other troopers were shifting on their feet suspiciously, like they were trying to hide their laughter too.

“Anyway, why come here?” Harry asked, keeping an arm around Anakin when he felt the other man’s knees buckle. “Clone Wars still happening?”

“Yeah. We need to get back quickly,” Anakin spoke. “Come with us?”

Harry grinned and nodded, thinking about his life here. Always hounded by the press, asked about when he would settle down or choose a life partner. “Yeah. Yes, I’ll come with you.”




 

 

Anakin sighed in contentment as the water turned on, stepping into the big water bath. It had been a while since he had used a shower that wasn’t sonic and he did enjoy them. They had managed to move the Twilight to Harry’s home, in the yard and it was going to take at least a few days to get the ship started again. That meant that they had a few days of unintended leave from the war. That he had a few days off from all the pressure, of being the “Hero with No Fear”.

He stayed under the shower of water, taking deep breaths. The bathroom door opened while he was trying to calm down, trying to do what the perfect Jedi would do, release his emotions to the Force. Hands came around his hips and he started a little, reaching for his lightsaber that wasn’t there and then calming down immediately when he sensed that it was Harry.

“Hey, Ani.”

He turned around in Harry’s arms, still under the spray of the shower. Harry was naked too but there was one thing missing.

“Your wings?”

“They can disappear when I will them too,” Harry whispered, his thumbs stroking circles on Anakin’s bare skin. “You okay?”

“I… You are coming back with us right?”

“I said yes,” Harry replied quietly, leaning over to draw him into a kiss. Anakin whined as Harry licked his way into his own mouth and felt as one of Harry’s arms reach around to cup the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp as he did. Anakin moaned and melted further into him, wrapping his own arms around Harry. “We’re soulmates. I thought I would never get to see you in the flesh, much less go with you. Of course I’m going with you. My life here is… not pleasant.”

“Voldemort?”

Harry’s other hand reached out to rub over a nipple and Anakin gasped, arching into his fingers.

“No. The reporters,” Harry grumbled, reaching up a little to trail a line of kisses from his throat up to his lips. “Always trying to catch a glimpse of me… The war going okay? I like the hair.”

Anakin grinned, whined a little when Harry backed him a little ways against the stone wall, cold stone versus warm water and warm, heat coiling in the pit of his stomach, at the base of his spine. “Two years into it and I want to kill every last person who started this. My men are dying and dying fast.”

“Anakin... “

One of Harry’s hands moved downward and Anakin arched into it only to be pinned with Harry’s other arm. Anakin kept his metal hand away, thinking that Harry would be disgusted only for Harry to raise an eyebrow. Harry shook his head, his hand still traveling downwards until he lightly hovered over his cock, grasping it and moving.

Anakin bucked up into Harry’s hand only to stopped by the hand pinning him to the wall. He whined as Harry locked eyes with him, his hand speeding up, twisting. Anakin’s heart sped and he was having trouble keeping-

“Uh-uh, let go. It’s just me,” Harry whispered. “Let go.”

Anakin let out a strangled cry, his legs almost buckling until Harry caught him, holding him through the shudders. Sparks of pleasure rode through his body and he could feel fingers running through his hair, gentling him through the orgasm.

“I’ll be going with you, Anakin,” Harry murmured gently. “Don’t doubt that.”

Chapter Text

“Oh shit,” Harry muttered, taking a deep breath and smelling the very enticing scent that was coming from Viserys’ tent. And if he could smell it, every other alpha in this Dothraki horde could smell it too. He glanced around at the camp, noting the sun’s position in the sky and seeing Khal Drogo ride back from a hunt. Daenerys was standing over by her tent, near the Khal’s, probably waiting to welcome Drogo back from the hunt.

Harry stood up, grabbed Gryffindor’s sword and headed towards the tent at the end, where Viserys was. He hoped that Viserys was alone now and logically he knew that the Targaryen prince had pretty much offended everyone else, even his own sister. He had to do this quickly, lest the Dothraki alpha men and women scented the air around them. Already he could see a few very confused men, looking around at the others, trying to locate the source.

Harry picked up the pace, stepping around horses and slaves and stopping at the entrance to Viserys’ tent, stepping in quickly. He sighed at the sight that met him, raising an eyebrow as the heady scent met his nose even more. His own body reacted and he reached into his magic center, melting into it, and calming down.

Viserys was writhing on the ground, his light purple eyes wide with arousal already. Harry could hear moans coming from the dragon prince, as Viserys succumbed to his own heat, to his body’s needs. The scent of the usual slickness filled the air and Harry licked his lips, knowing what was happening. It didn’t help that it had been a good while since he had fucked someone, since he had fucked an omega.

Harry idly wondered if this was a new experience for the prince or if he had had to deal with it on the run. Wondered if Viserys had ever been fucked or had just taken moon tea to suppress his heats. He also wondered how many Targaryens had been omegas. Probably not many, he supposed.

He walked into the tent and had the presence of mind to spell the tent doors closed, stopping anyone from coming in until he undid the spell.

“Please,” Viserys whimpered, his hands reaching down to his arse as he tried to satisfy himself. The young man was already shirtless, sweat dripping down his chest as he rolled onto his back and presented, crawling towards Harry.

Harry knelt down and reached out to pin the young man down, placing his hand on Viserys’ chest. He reached out with his other hand and grasped Viserys’ hands, gathering them in one hand. “Viserys? I know you’re in heat but I need you to talk to me.”

Viserys’ gasped at the touch, at the words, his legs squirming as he tried to escape from his grasp. His long, silver hair was wild, mussed from him pulling at it. Harry’s heart sped up at the sight, his eyes widening with lust and need, as he released his alpha side.

“Please,” Viserys whispered again, arching up into Harry’s hands. “Ser Potter.”

“You sound like Draco,” Harry muttered, bending down to lick Viserys’ chest, leaving a wet trail up to his bared throat and then up to his lips. Viserys groaned and tried to arch into him but for Harry’s hand pinning him down. “Though you’re much bossier than Draco and a lot more of an asshole than him.”

“If… I’m going to get fucked,” Viserys whined. “I’d prefer you over the Dothraki.”

“Oh, I might not be as violent as the dothraki but I might have more… energy,” Harry retorted, claiming Visery’s lips and moving a hand down to remove the prince’s leggings. He finally just used some magic to remove them, staring right into Viserys’ blown pupils.

Viserys whimpered as soon as Harry’s hand touched his inner thigh, lightly trailing over his cock and down to his arse, squirming as more slickness flowed down his legs. Each light touch sent stars soaring into his vision and heat slithered into his bones as he tried to lean into Harry’s hands, tried to get relief.

“You’re already plenty wet,” Harry whispered, sliding down to bite a mark on his throat. “What am I to do with you, huh?”

“Get on with it already or fuck off,” Viserys hissed, breathing heavily. He could feel his heart racing and he distantly remembered thinking that this was impossible, no Targaryen was an omega. They were all either alphas or betas. Viserys’ eyes narrowed, his mind screaming at him.

“This your first heat?”

“Hey.”

Viserys felt a tight grip on his chin, turning him to look at Harry.

He shook his head, unable to talk and not trusting him to not whimper if he opened his mouth. He squirmed around on the dirt floor of the tent, for once glad that no one visited him. He didn’t want anyone seeing him like this, vulnerable and writhing on the ground, utterly at the mercy of others. As it was, he could barely think through the burning heat of his mating rut and Harry was looking at him strangely, one hand moving up into his silver hair and tugging a little.

Viserys gasped as the pain helped him to think a little and he wrapped an arm around Harry, not even caring that his nails were leaving marks on the other man’s skin. One of Harry’s hands moved downward and grasped his cock, lightly squeezing before running a thumb down his length. That firm touch pushed him over the edge and he yelled out, panting so hard he thought he would die.

“Just to take the edge off,” Harry murmured, reaching down to push the sweaty hair off of Viserys’ forehead and placing a kiss there.

Harry pulled him up into a kiss as one of his hands moved downward to his hole, gathering some of his slick and pushing a finger in. Viserys squirmed around the intrusion, breathing heavily as more heat coiled through him. “You’re ready though.”

He twisted back, pushing into Harry’s second finger as heat flared in his body.

“You want this?” Harry questioned, his green eyes blown with lust and heat and just a little predatory.

“For fuck’s-” Viserys stopped, feeling Harry withdraw his fingers and line his cock up, sliding in. He yelped at the sudden intrusion then lips touched his own as Harry bit another mark on his nipple then licked it to soothe, distracting him from the almost burning heat in his arse and at the base of his spine. He whined and arched back into Harry, wanting more of that full feeling. It was delicious, feeling full and wanted and distantly heart Harry groan as he pushed back, making it so that Harry didn’t have to move.

Harry pushed all the way in then pulled out some, sliding back in with a wet pop. Viserys whined again, his purple eyes wide. The prince’s skin was warm and he looked crazed but there was some softness too, like Viserys hadn’t had this much positive attention in a while. The wet, heat of an omega that was encasing his cock pushed him over, seeing stars as he came. Viserys too came again, screaming out with it as his arse clenched around the growing knot.




 

 

“Ser Jorah, would you tell Daenerys that her brother is okay?” Harry yelled as he moved the furs around them to cover a still naked Viserys. They were both still connected, with Viserys asleep. The tent walls were still spelled closed and it had been an hour since Harry had walked into the tent to see Dany’s brother in heat.

There had been many attempts to get in by the Dothraki and then Harry had heard Khal Drogo yell out something. He had caught the word ‘movek’ which meant wizard in Dothraki so Harry assumed he had ordered everyone away.

“Was Viserys taking suppressants?” Ser Jorah asked through the tent.

“I’m not- Shit.”

Harry sighed, moving around to study Viserys, seeing his tousled silver hair and just a hint of his purple eyes as the prince woke up.

“You don’t by any chance have moon tea with you?” Harry questioned, steadying Viserys with a hand on his chest as their movements brought out a whimper.

Viserys’ eyes widened, his pupils still blown. “No. That’s why I had a heat, you idiot.”

“Fuck. Well, I can scrounge around for ingredients,” Harry remarked, running a hand through his sweaty black hair. “It’s going to taste like horse shit but it’ll stop any baby from growing in your body.”

Viserys stared at him then blinked, glancing down to his stomach. “Can I keep it?”

Harry blinked, staring at Viserys as he stared at him. “Pardon?”

“It’s going to be family.”

Viserys looked at the dirt floor, suddenly finding it a lot more interesting than the judging eyes of the man whose cock was inside him. Gentle fingers tipped his chin up and he looked into Harry’s soft green eyes.

“Of course you can keep it,” Harry whispered, moving around a little. Sparks of pleasure jolted through Viserys, a whimper tearing its way through his mouth. “I’ll get the Dothraki to keep away from you then and tell your sister.”

Chapter Text

Harry stopped in the doorway and leaned against the wall, peering into the study in front of him. The only sounds that he could hear was the crackling of the fire in the fire place and the rustling of pages. The little jar of floo powder sat above the fireplace and Harry could sense the wards around it, stopping anyone but himself from using that as an entrance to Lex’s mansion. Lex was sitting at his desk, lamp on the desk turned on and a glass of whiskey in front of him.  As he watched, Lex continued to stare at one page and didn’t turn the page for a good five minutes.

“Hey.”

“Must you stare at me like that?” Lex asked, finally looking away from the papers and glancing up at him. Lex was looking at him nonchalantly, like he had totally noticed Harry in the doorway several minutes before he had spoken.

Harry snorted. “I’m not staring at you in any way. Besides, you totally didn’t hear me.”

“I wasn’t startled,” Lex retorted, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, for someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do, they probably wouldn’t have noticed your eyes widening or your breathing picking up. However, I did.”

Lex stared at him then minutely shrugged his shoulders. “I’m fine, Harry. You don’t have to check in on me constantly.”

Harry pushed away from the doorway and stepped in, closing the door behind him. “Lex…”

“Harry.”

“I saw your father’s car drive off just a few minutes ago,” Harry remarked gently, walking over to sit on the chair that faced Lex’s desk. “It’s several hours past dinnertime. There are… advantages to living in the little cottage on your land, you know.”

“He could have been here to say hi,” Lex said, voice low.

“Right. And the fact that you’re trembling is just your hunger.”

“I am not trembling nor am I hungry.”

Harry sighed, reaching out a hand to flip Lex’s computer closed, leaving his hand on the desk, palm up. “I know how… difficult your father can get, Lex. It’s okay. It’s just me. There’s no one else in the mansion and I already scanned for cameras.”

Lex stared at him, his green eyes weary then he took a deep breath, shuddering out an exhale. He slowly reached out his hand, laying it in Harry’s. “Sometimes I want to kill him.”

“You say the word and I’ll do it,” Harry offered, half teasing and half… not. He closed his hand around Lex’s when the other man’s trembling grew worse.

Lex blinked then snorted. “Harry James Potter, offering to kill my dad.”

“It was bound to happen sometime,” Harry spoke, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “Seriously though. You say the word, I can have him arrested by the American aurors and have you put in protective custody. Warded safehouse and everything.”

“Offering to be my bodyguard?”

“Of sorts. Does your body need guarded now?”

Lex stared at him then broke out into quiet laughter. “That has got to be the worst pick up line I have ever heard.”

Harry grinned, stepping out of the chair and around the desk, walking right into Lex’s personal space. He reached out his hand to tip Lex’s chin up, leaned down and touched his lips to Lex’s. Lex grinned into the kiss, wrapped his own arms around him and tugged him down, what sounded like a strangled whine coming from his throat.

Lex stood up and Harry pulled him closer, fingers finding their way under Lex’s shirt to skin. Lex shivered and Harry smiled, green eyes intent, as he slowly backed Lex into the opposite wall as they both shed clothes.

 


 

 

A week later, Lex almost hit a teenager from Smallville. The sun was beaming down on him, not warm enough to dry him out or to warm him up but still… His unscheduled dip into the river would have tripped one of Harry’s charms on him, which Harry most probably had on him and had not told him about. But Lex knew. They had been close for a while now and he had gotten used to the feel of Harry’s magic, wild and warm, safe .

When he opened his eyes to see Clark Kent looking at him with concern, his heart skipped a beat. He was about to say something when he coughed, even more water coming out of his body. Clark’s blue eyes widened and he hurriedly helped Lex up , rubbed his back. Lex sat up, looking Clark over to see if the teen was injured but seeing nothing. There was absolutely nothing on Clark’s body to indicate that Lex had hit him and he could have sworn he had.

The teenager was also pale, as if something had frightened him in the past few minutes. And Lex could put that down to worrying about him but no one worried about him except Harry.

“Lex!”

Harry’s voice proceeded the wizard running down the hill to him as Lex continued to stare at Clark, occasionally glancing to the spot where he had driven off of the bridge.

“Lex? You okay? Who are you?”

“Clark. I… uh, rescued him.”

Lex’s eyes narrowed, watching as Harry drew out a cloak from his pack, his fingers moving slightly. All the water and dirt from his body vanished and Lex sighed in relief, shivers increasing as his still cold body stayed still. Harry took one look at him then draped his cloak over his shoulders, one hand moving to cup Lex’s neck reassuringly.

He could hear sirens moving on the road towards them and see Harry discreetly checking them both, the man’s magic moving over him and Clark. Lex idly wondered if Harry was sensing anything, any injuries that he wasn’t seeing but then the emergency services arrived and Clark’s father arrived.

Chapter Text

“Anyone know where Derek is?” Stiles asked.

“Probably off biting other teenagers,” Scott muttered.

Isaac snorted. “Hey.”

“Derek saved us,” Erica spoke, as they watched the Dr. Deaton come back into his office. “I’m healthy. But it is a good question. Where is he?”

They all looked to the veterinarian. Dr. Deaton raised an eyebrow but shook his head. “I have no idea where Derek Hale is. The last place I saw him was at the Hale house. It’s due to get demolished tomorrow.”

“Well, let’s go find him in case he’s doing anything suspicious.”

 


 

Scott led the way into the nature reserve, Stiles, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Lydia and Jackson following. He had followed the scent of their alpha to this area, an hour after they had gotten out of school. They had actually gotten side tracked when Jackson had put up a fuss, deciding on whether or not to skip lacrosse practice to come with them. Lydia had insisted a few minutes into Jackson’s argument and that had been that.

“Dude, Jackson’s whipped,” Stiles muttered as they walked side by side. They had left their cars with Stiles’ jeep by the barricade by the entrance, figuring that by now, police would have left the reserve alone. Peter had been taken down and killed already so there was no more serial killer in town and no more strange animal maulings.

“This still comes as a surprise to you?” Scott asked.

Stiles snorted and shook his head. “I only thought that what with Jackson getting the bite, he would be less… touchy.”

Scott laughed and elbowed Stiles, taking a deep sniff of the surrounding area. Derek’s scent continued up ahead, going in a familiar direction to the remains of the Hale house.

“Come on, guys. He’s up here!”




 

 

Derek groaned beneath him, arching his back up and into Harry’s hands as they moved. Sweat dripped down Harry’s back as he stayed still, waiting for Derek to adjust.

“Move,” Derek croaked out on a strangled breath.

Harry dipped down to drew Derek into a kiss and started to move, little by little. Someone whined and Derek thought it might have been himself as he felt Harry move within him, sparks of pleasure racing through his body even as Harry slid in then pulled out slowly.  

Harry’s green eyes were blown with arousal and Derek grinned, enjoying the feeling of being full. His world dwindled to the man above him and not to the house around him. The house that was in ruins, barely holding up. All the paint was gone and the scents that he could still smell were not of family, of pack but fear and pain.

“Derek, you’re safe,” Harry whispered, pulling out and then pushing back in suddenly. A hand stroked his sweaty forehead, moving down to rub a thumb over one of his nipples. He gasped, feeling his heart beating quicker and his fingernails grow to claws. He turned his fingers away, not wanting to hurt Harry. “It’s okay. I won’t be turned.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m part phoenix,” Harry whispered, his green eyes glowing with new fire and a good deal of love. Derek focused his senses on Harry, hearing the wizard’s heart beating fast and scenting the sweat that was rolling down Harry’s back. Derek wrapped his arms around Harry, his nails digging into Harry’s back. “Remember? Nothing will affect me through my bloodstream.”

Heat grew in his body, pleasure building behind his eyes as one of Harry’s hands moved downward to grasp his cock, moving over it lightly. His vision near whited out as he spiraled into release, hearing Harry’s breathing stutter as he too came.

“I love you, Derek Hale,” Harry whispered, running fingers through his hair as he watched the werewolf opposite him fall asleep.

 


 

 

“What.”

Scott stared, blinked.

The two men in the half burned down living room were lying on a mattress. They were the only pieces of color in what used to be Hale house. He recognized Derek but didn’t know the other guy. The stranger was wrapped around Derek, quickly hidden by a blanket, and was glaring at Scott and his friends.

Scott could smell old fear and pain and new… He could feel his cheeks redden and he elbowed Stiles, who was unashamedly staring at the two. Lydia, Jackson, Erica, Boyd and Isaac were already backing up, with only Isaac blushing. Erica was grinning and Lydia was smirking.

“Stiles!”

Stiles’ eyes were wide and his cheeks were red as he turned to face Scott.

“You guys want to get out of here?” The stranger asked, moving up and out slightly, enough that Scott heard…

“Oh!” Scott exclaimed, grabbing Stiles by his arm and pulling him out. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to disturb you two!”

The stranger with the wild black hair and green eyes also had a prominent scar on his forehead, one that Scott thought looked like a lightning bolt. But he put it out of his mind as he and Stiles hurried out of the burned out remains of the home that now stunk of sex.




 

Harry sighed as the teenagers scurried out of the home, hoping that Derek hadn’t awoken. The other young man had been exhausted and hurting when he had knocked on Harry’s door, his green eyes full of pain. One thing led to another and they had walked over to the house that Derek’s family had lived in for a few generations.

And now… a few months after they had met, Harry was about to do something that would break them apart. He had just gotten the last ingredient for the ritual to travel in time back further than a time-turner would allow him to do. He peered down at Derek, memorizing what he had looked like when Derek had seen him in his phoenix form for the first time. Of course, during sex, Derek was beautiful and Harry had fallen for him after just a few dates.

He stroked the sweaty hair off of Derek’s forehead, laid a kiss on his skin, whispered goodbye then spoke the words to the spell.




 

 

Harry leaned against the tree that would allow him a better view of the Hale house. He had already dampened down his magical presence so that the werewolves within wouldn’t be able to sense him or smell him. The moon was not full tonight, wouldn’t be for another four days but tonight was still a unique one for the Hales.

Tonight was the night that Kate Argent and her accomplices would try to burn the house down and kill the people inside. He just had to wait. Harry took a deep breath, slid down the tree until he was sitting cross legged and took watch, looking over the Hale house in all its’ unburned glory. It was a two story mansion, one that held the current generation of werewolves. And Derek was in there somewhere, joyously unaware of what was about to transpire tonight.

And Derek had no clue who Harry was.

He had seen Laura walking to work earlier today and Derek driving to school. Peter was unburned and non homicidal. Talia Hale was a beautiful woman, alpha werewolf and mother all wrapped up in one person. He had made sure to stay out of her way, not wanting them to think that he was a stalker or a hunter.

Harry waited, cloaked and watching until he heard whispers that were not coming from inside the house. He stood up, tucked his invisibility cloak away, then watched as Kate Argent and her hunter friends walked over towards the Hale house, bearing unlit torches and mountain ash.

Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest as he realized that the hunters had pinned the wolves in. That was how they had done it, how they had effectively slaughtered Derek’s family. Then he straightened himself, walking idly towards Kate and her friends, his left hand going to his wand. They didn’t even see him coming, even continuing to place the now lit torches around the house as someone rolled out the ash.

Harry cleared his throat, cast a blasting charm towards the hunters and the ash. He reached out, held out his hand and summoned the fire towards him, like calling to like. The fire from the torches rose from the wood and jumped right into his open palm as he extinguished it.

Kate yelled out, startled, and turned around, drawing her gun on him. “What the fuck did you just do?”

“I’m saving innocent lives,” Harry drawled, shrugging nonchalantly. Kate’s friends had now all drawn their weapons on him, their eyes narrowed with mostly hate and some fear. Kate’s eyes were lit with 99% hate and maybe 1% fear.  “The Hales have done nothing to you. Leave them be.”

“They killed an innocent young woman!” Kate exclaimed, her finger tightening on the trigger. Their yells had drawn Talia and Peter, the two of them walking out of their house and staring at them. “They’re werewolves, don’t you know? They’re evil!”

Harry rolled his eyes, glanced over at Talia, who was studying him. “The way I see it, you’re the one who’s about to kill innocent people. Kate, forget about them.”

“I will not. They deserve to die!”

“Huh-uh.”

Harry watched as the other hunters pointed at Talia and Peter too, as if they expected them to attack first. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way but you need to stop this.”

“No.”

“Very well then,” Harry remarked, drawing his wand and stunning all of the hunters. Kate fell the ground, stunned and not moving. Harry walked over and peered down at her, removing her gun, and going to each hunter to remove their guns and other weaponry, storing them in his limitless pack. He strode over to look over Kate again, knowing that she could hear him and spoke. “You should know, even if you don’t remember this when I’m through with you, that the Hales are under my protection, hunter. I don’t take well to threats and nor do they.”

“Who are you?”

Harry turned around, seeing that Talia had approached him while his attention was on Kate. Her eyes were not glowing alpha red while Peter’s were though his were just gold, beta gold.

“I… Harry James Potter, at your service, Talia Hale.”

Talia looked him over, eyed the unmoving hunters, then returned to him. “Seems like I should get to know you, stranger. How did you know that Kate and her friends were about to kill us?”

Harry sighed, glanced over to the Hale house, tried to imagine where Derek’s room would be. “Would you take time travel for an answer?”

Talia blinked, looked over at Peter than gestured towards their home. “Would you like to come in for tea?”




 

 

Four years later, Harry was working in the Beacon Hills police department as the supernatural go to police officer. Anytime Talia had trouble, her or her wolves would contact him first before calling the general police station.

“Hey, Harry,” John Stilinski called over, waving at Harry when he walked in. “Nice lunch?”

“Yes, thanks. How’s your wife doing?”

John’s shoulders dropped and he shook his head. “They’ve diagnosed it. Cancer.”

Harry was about to reply, when he stopped as he stepped through the door to where the main department was located, his heart speeding up at the young man who was standing in front of his desk. When he had sent himself back in time to save the Hales, he had known that Derek would not remember him. He had tried to avoid the younger man but he hadn’t always been successful. Talia had invited him over for tea at least twice a week, enjoying his presence and his help with police matters.

“Derek?”

Derek Hale turned around, his green eyes nervous but not… haunted, not weary or grieving. Just… nervous. He had never experienced the death of his family or the loss of his pack, thanks to Harry’s actions that day.

“...Harry?”

His heart stopped at those words, hearing the hesitant recognition in them. “Yeah?”

“I remember you.”

Chapter Text

“Brother, what’s wrong?”

Rhaegar hesitated as he stepped into his brother’s room. Prince Haerion Targaryen looked up at him, his light purple eyes filled with concern. Rhaegar knew that Harry used to have a crush on him but he knew he hadn’t returned the feelings as of before the rebellion. He also knew that Harry was an alpha and didn’t particularly care about the gender of the person he fucked. He also knew of Harry’s background, the magic and knew that Harry would be the right one to ask.

“My squire…” Rhaegar slowly started, pushing his crown back into its place.

“Jaime? What of him?” Harry stood up, pulling his silver hair back with a tie.

“You’re not busy for the next few days, right?”

“According to Lord Jon, no, I am not,” Harry remarked, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll be leaving in four days to go see what I can do about Summerhall and taking care of little Jon at the same time but otherwise no.”

Rhaegar sighed, hearing Harry walk up to him and tip his chin up so they could look each other in the eyes.

“Do you need me?”

“No. I do not. But Jaime does,” Rhaegar spoke, wearily. The lords on the Iron Islands had been silent for a while which did not bode well, especially since everyone had looked down on Rhaegar for a long time after he had taken Lyanna. He had given up trying to persuade the Starks and every river lord that it had been her idea from the start; he had not kidnapped her. “You know I’m going to knight him in a few days. This is not good timing.”

Harry stepped back, raising an eyebrow. “What is not good timing?”

“Jaime is presenting right the fuck now.”

Rhaegar heard Harry suck in a tight breath.

“I take it, not as an alpha or a beta, judging by your expression.”

“No.”

“Hmm. Lord Tywin won’t take that well.”

Rhaegar dipped his head in a nod, hearing his daughter race through the hallways. He grinned, hoping that Arthur’s hands weren’t full with her. They had placated the Martells afterward, by making Rhaenys his heir, the only one of his children that really looked like Elia, except for the purple eyes.

“I was hoping you could… look after him?” Rhaegar questioned quietly, as Harry started to pace, running a hand through the strands of hair that had spiraled out. Their mother had always tried to comb it into submission but Harry’s silver hair stayed wild, no matter what they tried. “I will talk with Lord Tywin, see what I can do to stave off any talk of sending Jaime to the Wall.”

“You better. Jaime adores you.”

Rhaegar’s lips twitched up into a grin. “I’ve seen him look at you though, more than he looks at me and I’m his knightmaster. And I’ve seen you looking at him too.”

“Well, he… reminds me of someone.”

 


 

Harry left his rooms and idly walked through the hallways of the Red Keep, grinning as Aegon and Rhaenys ran past him. Ser Arthur and Ser Lewyn ran by him just a minute later, trying to keep up with the children. Ser Oswell snorted and waved at his fellow brothers.

“Ser Oswell, do you know where Jon is? The little one, I mean?” Harry asked, gesturing for Oswell to walk alongside him.

“He’s still in the godswood with Ser Mark,” Oswell answered. “He’s a quiet one, that boy.”

“He is,” Harry remarked. “Well, he might as well come along with me when I go to rebuild Summerhall. Get him out of the capital and the court.”

“And hatch a few dragons?”

Harry yelped, turning to glare at Ser Oswell, who shrugged bemusedly.

“I heard you and the king talking. That’s why you’re rebuilding Summerhall, isn’t it?”

“... It’s part of why. Rhaegar and I have had dreams. We need to be ready.”

 




Jaime started at the knock, wondering who it was. He knew Rhaegar’s knock and that wasn’t it but… His mind felt like it was too warm, his body too hot to recognize anything beyond the need to get relief. Distantly, he recognized what this was and he recoiled from it, knowing what both his sister and his father thought of male omegas.

“Jaime?”

“Your Grace, don’t…”

Jaime swore when the door opened, inhaling the full scent of Prince Haerion Targaryen. It was delicious and his body jerked towards the king’s brother, trying to get closer. He didn’t want… “You shouldn’t… see me like this, Your Grace. Get out.”

Prince Haerion blinked, crossed his arms. “Then who? You want to get fucked by some anonymous alpha out in a brothel? Someone who… doesn’t care about your well being?”

“I don’t give a shit about who fucks me. You shouldn’t either,” Jaime retorted, his knees shaking so much that he was glad he was sitting on his bed.

“Jaime, just because I let you take the fall for killing my father, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Jaime stared at Prince Haerion as the other man came closer, stopping right at the foot of the bed. Heat churned in his belly as the scent of the alpha began to drive him crazy, toes curling. It was overwhelming and intoxicating, making him want to kneel and present himself immediately. “You’re…”

He stared in amazement as the Prince knelt down before him, reaching out a hand to touch his chest. Even through the tunic he was wearing, Jaime could feel Prince Haerion’s hand and it made his heart race, his cock already hard. Sweat rolled down his back as he moved slightly in an attempt to get relief. Slickness pooled around his arse and he whined a little, the sound coming out strangled.

“You’re beautiful, did you know that?” Prince Haerion muttered. “And stubborn. The lion who kept my brother’s children safe.”

“At your orders,” Jaime grumbled, as Prince Haerion nudged him down onto the bed and began to take his clothes off. “Fuck…”

Haerion grinned and lowered down to press his lips to Jaime’s, licking into his mouth when he opened his lips. “Call me Harry?”

Jaime moaned, feeling one of Haerion’s hands slip into his hair and tug a little. His leggings were pulled off and Haerion’s other hand moved underneath him, following the slick, avoiding his cock and right to his hole. Jaime arched into the hand that suddenly kept him pinned, his heart racing and his blood almost seeming to boil in his body from the heat. Haerion grinned down at him, the hand on Jaime’s chest making distracting circles as two fingers dipped into him.

He startled at the feeling, slight pain and pleasure as Haerion slid down his own leggings, revealing the Prince’s cock. It was already hard and Jaime’s breathing picked up unconsciously, harsh, shallow breaths.

“You’re already so wet for me,” Harry whispered, his fingers venturing further, smearing some of the slick fluid around and making Jaime squirm. The hand on his chest moved over a nipple, rubbing it between a thumb and forefinger. Jaime gasped, his back bucking at both sensations. Pleasure sparked throughout his body, tingling everywhere and following the heat at each touch of the alpha’s.

“I… My father-”

“My brother will talk with him,” Harry spoke, leaning in to draw him into another kiss. The prince’s light purple eyes were blown with lust and predatory alpha need though Jaime knew that even now, if he had said no, Prince Haerion would have backed off. Rhaegar’s brother was known for being able to control himself during a heat, at least known in certain circles. “Don’t worry. Being the king should help with that conversation.”

Jaime whined as he watched Harry use some of the slick on his fingers to wet his cock, licking his fingers afterward, then slowly slid in. Jaime groaned, pressure building behind his eyes and at the base of his spine as the prince moved above him. Harry groaned and started to move, each movement making sparks of heat shoot up through Jaime’s body.

A hand curled around his cock and stroked a few times. He yelled out at the sudden intense pleasure, his body still trembling with need and with want as he looked up at Prince Haerion. Prince Haerion, who had told him to call him Harry. Who had been the actual one to kill Aerys. At the time, Jaime had just wanted to make the prince happy, to erase those shadows on Haerion’s face. So the kingdom called him the kingslayer now, never knowing that he wasn’t the one who had done it.

“You’re mine,” Harry whispered, rocking into him quickly. “My lion.”

“Yes, I’m yours,” Jaime croaked out, feeling his slowly drying slick and cum on his stomach. “Now and always.”

Harry blinked, tilted his head, causing a few strands of silver hair to escape the tie and gasped, his purple eyes going wide with pleasure. His alpha knot started to grow and Jaime groaned, arching his back, trying to get more of the pleasurable feeling of being full.

 


 

 

A knock on the door drew Harry out of the light slumber that he had fallen into. Sparks of pleasure as he moved reminded him that he and Jaime were still connected and he went still, trying not to wake up the man next to him.

“Yes?”

Rhaegar poked his head in, looking the two men over. It had been two hours since he had sent Harry to take care of his squire and he hadn’t heard a peep from them since. “Is he okay?”

“Yes. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Lord Tywin and I spoke,” Rhaegar remarked quietly, stepping in and closing the door behind him. “When your heats are done, I would like to speak with you both.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed but he nodded. “Alright. You know this will take a few days.”

Rhaegar nodded, his dark purple eyes going soft. “Thank you, brother.”

“I… I didn’t do this for you,” Harry offered, peering down at the still sleeping Jaime Lannister and pushing some of his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“I know.”

 

Chapter Text

Harry crossed his arms, glaring at Slade. “It was not his fault, Slade! He had guns pointed at him and at Sara and Shado!”

Slade flinched but remained steady, the weakness of the past few nights gone. There were no more burn scars, no smell of infection, just pure healthy skin. “He could have done something! Shado trained him!”

Oliver flinched from where he was standing with Sara. “Slade-”

“Kid, get out of here. I never want to see you again!”

Harry let a little of the wolf out, growling lowly in his throat. “Slade.”

Slade turned towards him, one of his hands going to a blade.

“Oliver, go back to the plane,” Harry ordered firmly, taking a step closer towards Slade. “Take Shado and Sara too.”

“But-”

“This will probably end in sex,” Harry retorted. “And unless you’ve got voyeuristic tendencies that I don’t know about… Or unless you want to join us...”

Oliver paled and took a step back, gently picking up an injured Shado. Harry focused on Slade but not without getting a whiff of arousal from behind him. He turned to look at Oliver, raising an eyebrow. Oliver’s eyes widened then he turned around, taking off for the plane, Sara at his heels.

“Harry!”

“Slade, it was not his fault. Blame the scientist for that but not Oliver. Blame the soldiers who followed orders. Did you see Oliver’s face? It’s not his fault!!”

Slade’s eyes narrowed. “Where were you? The wolf of Lian Yu?”

“I was shifting. It was a full moon last night, in case you forgot. And you know it takes me a while to shift either way!”

Slade’s harsh breathing continued, his eyes wide with anger and just a little bit of lust as he glanced down Harry’s body. Harry smirked, stalking forward to meet Slade halfway. They both met each other in the middle of the small clearing, the bodies of the dead soldiers surrounding them. Harry had just shifted back onto two legs and as per usual, his heart was pumping fast and his blood was speeding throughout his body.

The change back to human always ended in him being aroused. Before he had arrived on the island, he usually just jerked himself off. Now though, Slade always said yes to good sex and Harry did too, wrapping his arms around the other man and pulling him in.

He could smell the sweat that was dripping down Slade’s back and feel the sweat roll down his own back as they collided, kissing almost frantically as Slade tore off his clothes, shucking out of his pants and shoes. Harry banished his loose shirt and pants as Slade groaned, stepping closer to him to try to get more friction against their rapidly hardening cocks.

“Fuck,” Slade muttered, breathing heavily.

“Oh, hey, now that you’re a…” Harry started, pushing Slade backward until the mercenary hit a tree and kissing a line up his bare throat. “...supersoldier, you can handle me.”

Slade laughed low in his throat, curled his arms around Harry, his nails digging into Harry’s back. Pleasure sped through both of their bodies as they moved, not even caring about the bodies around them. A few years ago, Harry would have minded but now? Not so much. A few of the bodies had chunks of skin torn out and one body was notably minus one arm, the offending limb having gotten thrown a few feet away. Harry vaguely remembered that that man had touched Oliver and his wolf had taken offense to that.  “Who said I can’t handle you?”

“You did a couple of months ago.”

Harry reached down a hand, grasped both of their cocks. Slade sucked in a tight breath, tucking his head into the crook of Harry’s neck as Harry’s hands moved over him.

“I did not.”

“Did too,” Harry muttered.

Slade rolled his eyes, placing a biting kiss on the juncture between Harry’s neck and his shoulder. Harry shivered next to him then moved to bite a claiming mark on Slade’s neck, a low growl coming from the wizard. Slade groaned, sparks of pleasure flooding his system as his release came. Harry’s arms around him tightened, holding him up as his body went limp. He distantly heard Harry’s breath stutter and the other man came too, still holding the both of them up and watching for any mercenaries at the same time.




 

 

“Well, so much for the rescue then.”

Oliver bent over the man he had killed, the chains that Malcolm had tied him up with still dangling from his wrists, and was about to reach for the gun when he recognized that voice. He turned around to see Harry and Slade standing at the doorway that Malcolm had left through.

“Hey, kid,” Slade muttered, his dark eyes knit in concern. His ever present two swords were strapped to his back along with what Oliver knew to be various other weaponry all over Slade’s person. “You okay?”

“Oliver?” Harry asked, gesturing to the chains. Oliver felt familiar magic wrap around him, warming him up and unlocking the cuffs around his wrist at the same time. “I take it a lot has happened since you came back?”

Oliver stared, blinked a little. “It’s… been a while, you guys.”

Harry and Slade exchanged looks before Harry walked towards him, slowly and cautiously. Slade stayed where he was, his hand dropping to the gun on the belt at his waist and pulling it out only to shoot at a space behind him. Another guard dropped right where Slade had shot.

“You injured?” Slade asked, holstering the gun and walking over to stop in front of Oliver and next to Harry.

“Achy,” Oliver murmured. “I was just hanging by my arms, you know.”

Harry snorted, reaching out to wrap an arm around Oliver’s waist and reeling him in for a hug. When Oliver didn’t even fuss about it, Slade closed the distance and reached out too, lightly grasping Oliver’s hand.

“Tell us everything,” Harry whispered.

Chapter Text

“Jack, there’s something going on with the rift,” Ianto said, gesturing to the long pillar that stood right where the rift was. Their computers were going crazy and Tosh was running from station to station, checking on the stats of the rift, her eyes wide.

“Have we seen anything like this?” Jack asked, getting up from his desk and walking down to the work area, watching Tosh move. Gwen and Owen were staring at the rift and the visible energy that just seemed to fluctuate and flow, every once and awhile coloring black. Power of some sort that Jack definitely hadn’t seen before flowed around the rift, occasionally sparking and popping with noises that were inhuman. Jack could swear that he saw green spots too, fluttering around the rift in the middle of their work area.

“No. There’s no record of it being seen,” Toshiko retorted, typing on her own keyboard at her own station. “Absolutely not. Nope.”

Gwen’s lips twitched up into a bemused frown. “I suppose we should be ready for anything then.”

“Good idea,” Jack spoke, his hand dropping to his pistol. The rest of the team picked up their guns and flanked the rift, forming a semi circle around it. Ianto stood close to Jack, pointing his gun right at the rift. The rift and computers that were monitoring it went crazier, alarms going off in the entire building before everything went dark.

Gwen yelped and Jack heard a bit of fumbling around as his team found their footing once again. They could hear the scream of the pterodactyl came down from the rafters then the prehistoric bird went silent, a few little more than chirps came from it in the next few minutes. A loud thunk proceeded the power turning back on and Jack moved immediately, seeing the body of a man on the floor right next to the rift.

Or what he thought was a body. Jack stopped at the guy’s head and peered down to study the corpse then the body opened its-his- eyes. The… guy had wild black hair and brightest pair of green eyes that Jack had ever seen and he had seen quite a lot. Jack drew his pistol and aimed it at the guy as Ianto, Owen, Gwen and Tosh all came over to stand in a circle around the guy.

The guy was wearing a dark green shirt and jeans and he had a small messenger bag with him. He was probably the most normal… thing that had come through the rift but Jack wasn’t about to be disarmed, even though the guy was handsome, with the shirt bringing out his eyes.

The man on the floor peered up at them in return, his green eyes searching everyone. Jack just had a minute to notice the scar on his forehead when the guy focused on Jack, his lips twitching up into a small grin.

“You’re cute. Have you seen an owl around by any chance? Could be something else though. Last time she was a duck and oh boy, Hedwig did not like that. Personally, I thought she was cute as a duck but hey, she’s entitled to her opinions.”

Jack grinned and was about to tell the guy that he thought he was cute also when they heard a terrifying shrill scream.

“Uh-oh,” Ianto muttered, glancing up to the rafters of the building. The white pterodactyl flew downward, speeding, almost like a comet, right down to the man on the floor. Jack was about to haul the man up and move when the guy’s green eyes lit up.

“Oh, hey, girl. There you are,” the guy said, stretching a little, his back creaking, before sitting up against the pillar. Jack’s eyes widened and he saw Ianto’s eyes widening too as the white pterodactyl slowed to a stop, beating its wings before touching down on the guy’s lap. “Weird looking bird but at least you’re not a duck this time.”

“She’s…” Ianto trailed off as the guy peered up at him, raising an eyebrow. The pterodactyl preened, curling into the new guy’s arms, chittering to him, as if they were talking and it was responding. “She’s a pterodactyl, a dinosaur?”

“Oooh!” The guy exclaimed, his green eyes lighting up with interest. “Hedwig, you’re a dinosaur! First time for everything!”

The pterodactyl poked the guy in the arm with its large beak and the guy swatted it though it was a fond swat, if the way the guy was looking at the animal was any indication.

“Harry James Potter.” The guy stood up, shaking off any dirt and held out his hand. The pterodactyl took off and landed on the work table behind them, watching all of them. Jack took the guy’s hand, feeling calluses from hard work but nothing else.

“Jack Harkness.”



 

 

“Ugh, do I have to? I hate quarantine,” Harry asked, looking at the rest of the team through the glass window as Jack pushed the button to close the cell door. “I promise I won’t hurt any of you. Besides, it’s not like I’m here to take over this world. By the way, which planet am I on?”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know which planet you’re on? Where are you from?”

“Earth. Which planet are you from?” Harry asked, grinning amusedly.

“Earth.”

“Well, that explains everything,” Harry muttered. “This is Earth, right?”

“Yes,” Ianto replied hesitantly. “Why are you here?”

“I’m pretty sure this is my home,” Harry spoke, tilting his head in confusion as he sat down on the bench. The white pterodactyl had not left his side, even going as far as to bite Jack when he tried to shoo her away. And he had thought they were beginning to be friends. “Or not. The rift is a little… topsy turvy these days.”

“Let me get this straight. You… travel through the rift… just like that?” Jack questioned.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Did Owen already get a sample of his blood?” Jack asked, turning around to look at Gwen. She nodded and walked off, out of the room with the cells and back up to their work area.



 

 

“Jack, are you sure you want to do this?” Gwen asked, glancing to where Jack was watching the computer that was connected to the cameras. “I could take over watch. It’s not too late.”

“Rhys will be upset,” Jack said, gesturing to the door. “It’s alright. I want to.”

“You have a feeling.”

“Something. There’s something amiss about that man.”



 

 

“Is quarantine over?”

Jack started, dropping the pen he was writing on and glancing up at Harry, who had just appeared there. “You’re… How did you get out of the cell?”

“Trade secret,” Harry remarked idly, glancing around at Jack’s office and stepping over to examine a few pieces of tech that Jack had left lying around. Jack watched as Harry lightly touched one of them, a round thing with a red, glowing… thing in the center. “You… shouldn’t touch that one. Bad way to die.”

Jack left his pistol in his holster and walked around his desk, sat on the edge and watched the other man. “How can you just travel through the rift? That should kill you.”

“It did,” Harry answered, standing up and leaning against the doorway, crossing his arms. “At least the first time I tried.”

Jack’s eyes widened, his heart beating faster at the thought of there being someone like him. “You died.”

“Yes. It’s a thing with me,” Harry commented. “Long story.”

“Last time I died was to make sure a monster couldn’t devour everyone here,” Jack spoke, crossing his arms.

Harry blinked then slowly started to grin. “Fun times, right?”

Jack laughed. “Want to go get a drink?”

“Aren’t you suppose to be watching me?”

“I can watch you at a bar just as easily as watching you here,” Jack said, smirking.

Harry grinned back.



 

 

“A werewolf ripped me to shreds one time,” Harry said, taking another sip of his drink. “I was too slow on the draw.”

“But did you die?” Jack asked, watched as Harry slid his bar stool closer and then their thighs were touching. Warmth coiled up into his body and he did the same, inching his stool closer to the other man. He took another swallow of his beer, watching as Harry stared at him, his green eyes almost glowing with warmth.

“Yeah. What about you? What’s your goriest death?”

“My blood was all sucked out and laid out around me and then my organs were taken out.”

Harry blanched. “Sorry?”

Jack snorted. “What’s the next category?”

“Uh… longest death? I don’t know,” Harry spoke. “Mine was when I got decapitated and stayed alive for a few days until the people that held me realized I was still alive. Didn’t help that Hedwig was a small white jay at the time."

“Oooh, that sucks. I was left in a concrete tomb for a hundred years and I kept on dying.”

“Jack!”

“What?”

“That doesn’t count! That’s multiple deaths in the same way!” Harry exclaimed, elbowing him.

 



They didn’t even make it to Jack’s bed before they started kissing. Jack was already breathing heavily, watching as Harry tugged off his shirt then wrapped his arms around Jack.

“What’s the deal with your scar anyway?” Jack asked, reaching a hand up to trace the lightning bolt scarring on Harry’s forehead. Harry’s fingers were distracting as they dug into his hips, helping Jack to yank off his own shirt.

“Someone attempted to kill me when I was two,” Harry explained, drawing Jack into another warm, wet kiss.

“Oh, attempted?”

“Same guy attempted to kill me several times over the next few years, all the way until I was 17,” Harry murmured, pulling away and smiling faintly. “Last attempt was my origin story.”

Jack wrapped his own arms around Harry, shivered as Harry kissed a line starting at his throat and ending at his lips. Harry pulled him closer and they both gasped as their hard cocks touched through cloth.

“Bed,” Jack gasped.

Harry nodded, nudging the other man backward until he hit the bed and joined him.

 



Gwen, Ianto, Tosh and Owen all walked into work the next morning, stepping through the door and immediately stopping. Harry was walking around the desks, idly humming to himself. The pterodactyl was on his shoulder, nuzzling into Harry’s side. Jack was watching the two with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Boss?” Ianto questioned.

“Would anyone have trouble with Harry staying on as an agent?” Jack said, peering over at them.

Chapter Text

The instant that Voldemort’s killing curse hits Harry’s body, everything went black. He felt like he should be watching his life flash before his eyes but the images that showed up were not… were not his. Or they didn’t look like him but… Something within him knew this was important.

The city around him was gleaming, not one speck of dirt or filth visible that he could see. There was one big gleaming stone arch in front of him, proclaiming that he had arrived in Greece. People were walking all around him, their horses gleaming, and… men and women with collars around their necks followed them. Everyone looked to be running home for dinner, the sun falling in the horizon.

One man in particular stood out among the ancient Greeks and Harry felt like he knew the guy, something within him shouting that he knew him. The man was wearing a slender set of armor underneath a long, plaid robe, along with a sword strapped to his back. As Harry watched from afar, the guy strode through the streets like a tourist. Harry followed, invisible and curious, as the man, who was maybe from ancient England, continued to walk, turning his gaze every which way.

A line of Greek soldiers walked past and one man, not a soldier, stopped the English man.

“Sir, the king would like to welcome you to Didymos. A feast has been prepared in your honor.”

Harry watched as the ancient English warrior before him contemplate the invitation and again, there was something familiar about the man, but Harry didn’t know what it was. The man had dark eyes, almost black, and long, wild auburn hair that was pulled back with a tie.

“Of course. Lead on.”

 


 

 

Harry’s eyes widened at the grandeur that awaited the warrior that he was following. The king of Didymos had a palace that sparkled, gold fixtures everywhere and servants to wait on the guests. Soldiers stood guard at each entrance, which made the English man hesitate. The steward pushed him forward through, guiding him towards the throne. And everyone in the palace throne room stopped to stare at the English warrior.

“Did you hear? One of my friends got to fuck the prince!”

Both Harry and the ancient warrior turned, dark and green eyes flashing in  worried interest at the same time. The people around the guy who had spoken laughed knowingly and more than a little possessively. The laughter in the group turned dark and Harry shivered as more gossip spread around the great hall.

“They say he’s a great bed warmer and knows his place! I would love to get a piece of both of them, you know?”

Harry turned to look at the king, who was not listening at all. There was a young man next to the king, who was most likely the prince. The ancient English warrior stared at the group of men then turned back to walk over to the throne, bowing before the king.

“My good man, where are you from?”

“Across the sea, your highness. My kingdom is very different than yours,” the english warrior spoke, crossing his arms.

The king nodded. “Why did you come?”

“I wanted to meet you. My father spoke of allying with you in your struggles with Atlantis.”

“Oh, I’ve bedded him. They say he has the most mysterious eyes and that is very true. Godborn, they say. Makes it so much easier to fuck him until he’s bloody. And fun.”

Harry and the English warrior both shuddered though the ancient warrior in front of him did it much more subtly, not showing any emotion. The king appeared not to notice the gossip about his son, as the person who had spoken had done it in a whisper and more than a few feet behind Harry.

 




Harry took a deep breath and sighed in relief when the English warrior finally stepped out of that toxic place. He would have tried to hex the men who were whispering about violating both princes but there was no magic to pull on and if he tried to move away from the ancient English warrior, something stopped him. They were connected by a shimmering thread of rope and Harry’s real physical body was still back in the Forbidden Forest, having been killed by Voldemort.

 




Harry followed the warrior as he walked back throughout the city, dodging Greek soldiers and stopped at a building that looked like a temple. The statue in front of the temple was of a woman, a beautiful woman with womanly curves. Artemis, if Harry recalled his lessons from elementary school. There were priestesses around the temple and many other people praying to the goddess. Harry shrugged while the English warrior continued to walk, passing by other temples to other Greek gods and goddesses.

 




It grew darker and the English warrior had finally slowed down, taking one of the alleyways towards what Harry thought was the shady part of the city, judging by the increasing amounts of prostitutes walking down the streets. The men and women walking along the side of the streets were all scantily clad, the men only having a piece of cloth over their cock.

The English warrior shook his head to each one that offered themselves up. A strangled yell drew both their attention and the English warrior stopped in his idle wanderings and took off, heading in the direction of the shout. Harry followed too, wanting to help but he had found that when he tried to touch someone, his hand slid right through other people’s bodies. But he followed and watched as the English warrior turned several corners and came upon a group of soldiers and two noblemen.

Or at least they looked like they could have been noblemen. They were dressed up like they were of high importance. The English warrior and Harry stopped behind the last corner and poked their heads around, taking in the sight before them. Harry could see the English man’s hands curl into fists and Harry swore, wishing that he could help.

 


 

 

The soldiers were circled around a younger man, maybe 17 years old. Harry could feel the blood in his face drain as he watched one of the noblemen unbuckle their clothing at their waist. Another noblemen was already lying down over the younger man, both bare to the waist. The young man beneath the older man was still, bruised and broken, his skin covered in cuts and slashes.

Harry could even swear that he saw lash marks on what he could see of the younger man’s back. The English man before him quietly pulled out his sword and stalked towards the group, impaling one soldier before slicing into another. The rest of the soldiers yelled the alarm but before they could get their act together, the English warrior had killed all of them.

The noblemen backed off, leaving the third one alone and running off. The English warrior snorted before striding over to the young man and the noblemen atop him and yanking the much older man off before slitting his throat and pushing him out of the way. Harry didn’t even spare a look for any of the people that the Englishman had killed, just kneeled down beside the young man on the ground.

There was blood running from a few cuts on the guy’s back, as well as old and numerous marks from whipping. The young man had long blond hair and was just now slowly waking up. Harry flinched at what that meant. The noblemen had probably knocked him out and then raped him.

The English man came closer and stood over the the guy and Harry noticed the minute but whole body flinch from the young man. Harry watched as the English man knelt down, arm reaching out to touch and knew that that wasn’t a good idea so he reached out himself, touching the English man on the shoulder.

Power raced through him and then he was looking out of the English man’s eyes. Harry started only a little then reached out, tentative, watching the young man opposite him. The guy peered up at him and Harry gasped at the young man’s eyes. They were silver, swirling, as he gazed up at Harry. They stared at each other for a long while, almost caught in their own small world then the man went limp, his body falling back onto the ground as his wounds caught up to him.

Harry in the Englishman’s body gently and carefully put his arms around the young man, one under his knees and one around his shoulders, minding the wounds, and walked off. Harry was only sharing the Englishman’s body, sharing his mind, sharing his body, but he was distinctly aware of the fact that the young man in their arms was light, maybe too light. Numerous old scars littered his body and Harry didn’t know a lot of the origins of them but he… could guess.

This was the Prince that the noblemen in the palace were talking of. Harry hadn’t gotten a name but the eyes were a dead giveaway.




 

 

“Hey.”

Acheron opened his eyes, his fingers curling and uncurling into the soft sheets that he was laying on. His eyes widened as he bolted upward, shuffling away from the strange man that was sitting down beside his bed. The man who had apparently brought him to his home for some reason. He probably wanted to fuck him. That’s what they always wanted.

But this time… Acheron slowly realized that he wasn’t tied down to the bed. There were no restraints chaining him to the bed so that the man could fuck him without Acheron fighting back. Though it had been so long since he had fought back… He remembered fighting the soldiers who had taken him away from his family, seeing his brother yell out for him when they had been but boys. Now he was 17 and still all alone.

The man clearing his throat drew Acheron out of his increasingly depressing thoughts and he turned to look at his host. The man had on a weird looking tunic, one that had green stripes crisscrossing black and for leggings, just had on a pair that was black and looked warm. Acheron waited as the man studied him, waited for the man to yank him into a kiss or straddle his lap. It never took very long for anyone who saw him to want him, to ask his master how much a night with him cost.

“Are you okay?”

Acheron stared, blinked. The man opposite him raised an eyebrow, his black eyes soft, worried. At least Acheron thought the man’s expression was worried. It could have been something else. It had been a while since anyone had asked him if he was okay and even his sister had left him alone for the past few weeks.

The man’s strange lilting accent was soft and one that Acheron had never heard. Maybe the man was the warrior prince who his father had invited to Didymos.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

The man’s eyes widened then he shook his head after a minute. “No. Should I?”

“Most people do.”

“Enough to knock you out and then fuck you?” The man’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Acheron looked the man over, noting a dagger at the man’s waist. “I’m sorry. I… What’s your name?”

“Most people know about the prince who is a whore,” Acheron muttered, glancing at the man then tentatively sitting up.

“I’m new here.”

“Obviously.”

He flinched when the man snorted, expecting… expecting something, maybe to get hit or for the man to realize that, yes, he wanted to fuck Acheron.

“I’m not going to hit you or fuck you,” the man whispered. “My name is Aodhán and yours?”

Acheron stared at the man, unease stirring in pit of his stomach. If the man didn’t want to hit him or fuck him, what was he here for?

“Acheron.”

“Nice to meet you.”




 

 

Harry watched as Acheron stared at the food on his plate while occasionally glancing at Harry, or more precisely Aodhán. He was sharing a body with an ancient English warrior. Hermione would get a kick out of this, assuming Harry went back to his own real, physical body. And assuming he was still actually alive.

“I’m not going to punish you for eating,” Harry spoke, his heart clenching at the thought of what the man opposite had gone through. Acheron hadn’t spoken a lot since Harry had found him last night but his body language, his scars, told one story. Acheron was used to being used as a prostitute, as a whore. He knew it was… usual, common to find prostitutes in this time, in this world, but he knew Acheron was different.

The young man’s silver eyes were beautiful and haunted. The man was beautiful but it was clear Acheron didn’t think that. Harry had seen the hooded robe and cloak that had been in tatters next to him on the street last night. And Acheron’s assumption that Harry wanted to fuck him.

“You’re…”

Harry turned to look at the young man, dropping his shoulders in an attempt to appear small. “Hmm?”

“You’re quiet,” Acheron finally said, his silver eyes flicking between Harry and the plate of food before him.

“I don’t talk a lot, I know.”

“No. You’re quiet… up here,” Acheron murmured, finally taking a bite of the meat and closing his eyes before gesturing to his mind.

“You…” Harry trailed off. “You can read minds?”

“It just happens. But not… I can’t hear yours.”

“You don’t have control?”

Acheron glanced up at him, having not met his eyes for the entire meal, and shook his head.

“Would you like to learn?” Harry asked, meeting Acheron’s eyes.

Acheron’s eyes widened then his shoulders drooped as he stood up and walked around the table, kneeling at Harry’s side. Harry stared, frozen, in shock, as Acheron reached out to start unlacing his armor then finally steadied himself. He reached out, gently grasping Acheron’s wrists, loosely holding them.

“You don’t have to do anything like that, sweetheart,” Harry whispered, dropping down beside the chair and in front of Acheron. “You’re safe here. I will not touch you if you don’t want. You have my word.”




 

 

Acheron settled into a routine, staying at Aodhán’s place. It was like staying with his sister several years ago. He was safe. No one touched him at night especially since everyone seemed to think that the stranger to Didymos was weird. Not weird like Acheron but definitely weird enough to keep most of the commoners away.

Acheron definitely thought that his host for now was weird. Teaching him how to quiet his mind and how to build a mental wall around his own mind to block out voices. His new teacher insisted that there was nothing Acheron could do to pay him back but he would figure out something. Aodhán never looked at him like he wanted to fuck him; he never looked at him like he wanted to hit him or take out his anger or frustration at Styxx on him. He never looked at him like he was inferior or something to use.

Aodhán never punished him and never once raised his voice in front of him.

“I was in a war back home. I know, Acheron. I know how it feels to be picked on. I will never hurt you or use you.”




 

 

Acheron woke up in the middle of the night one time to the noises of a sword moving through the air. It had been a few weeks since he had gotten jumped by those noblemen and in the morning, he always watched as Aodhán left to go on his personal business, but this morning the man had stayed. Acheron walked through the home and stopped in the doorway of the common area.

His host was standing in the middle of the room, his sword within his hand as it moved swiftly, gracefully through the air. Acheron watched as Aodhán moved and sighed when he couldn’t hear any thoughts coming from the man. The man was a wonderful teacher and Acheron was… He thought he was a quick learner since Aodhán had smiled at him yesterday morning when he had successfully kept up a wall. Aodhán wasn’t… hadn’t said he was some kind of… warlock so Acheron had had to work on his own, listening to Aodhán’s advice.

“Acheron? Another nightmare?”

He shook his head wearily.

Aodhán looked at him, black eyes narrowing in thought before shrugging, running a hand through his sweaty auburn hair.

Acheron blinked and then shuddered, thinking about that dream. The dream that he had a few times over the past year or so. He had dreamt of watching himself conquer Atlantis, the world dark and the ground covered in blood as he walked over skeletons. He didn’t know what it meant. Aodhán had come to his bedside every time he woke up gasping and sweating to calm him down. The man had never touched him even then, whispering comforting things.

“When I have nightmares, I find it helps to talk to someone about them,” Aodhán remarked, yawning and dropping his sword arm to his side. “Though, honestly, I probably should talk to people more. I have trouble with that too.”

“You… have nightmares about the war?”

Aodhán nodded. “Friends who died for me. People who died right in front of me. Do you know how to protect yourself?”

Acheron started at the sudden change in subject. Usually, he could keep up with the sudden changes in personality from his host. Sometimes, Aodhán was… stranger than usual and most of the time that was often. Then others, Aodhán sounded like a noblemen, or at least talking like someone who knew this world. Who knew the ins and outs of Didymos. It was difficult and yet, Acheron enjoyed Aodhán’s company.

“I usually just let whatever it is happen,” Acheron muttered. “Easier that way. Less bloody.”

It was silent for a few minutes, the only sound was the occasional hoofbeats outside.

“You… heal quickly,” Aodhán commented.

“I don’t know why. It keeps me pretty for the goddess, whenever she visits me,” Acheron said, wondering when Artemis would visit him next. He was thinking about going to a play three days from now and maybe he would visit the temple afterward, assuming he didn’t get a greedy customer.

“Goddess?” Aodhán echoed.

Acheron stiffened, remembering that he wasn’t suppose to talk of Artemis to other people.

Aodhán blinked then sighed, his black eyes flashing with what Acheron now knew to be worry. “Alright, I won’t tell anyone you’re seeing a goddess. In the meantime, would you like to learn how to use a sword?”




 

 

Harry walked alongside Acheron as they both went to go see a play a few days later. The king of Didymos had apparently not called on the Englishman to help in anything since their war with their neighbor states had finished a few months ago. So Harry had accepted Acheron’s invitation.

Acheron was wearing his usual robe and cloak, hiding his face and hair. Apparently the kind of… slave he had been was not allowed to go anywhere. Tsoulos. Greek slave meant solely for pleasing others. Harry had shuddered when Acheron told him what that meant. It was really too bad that he couldn’t use magic here. Everytime he tried, he couldn’t draw on his magic. It was like it was hidden from him or kept locked away. But he supposed it made sense, seeing as he was sharing this body with a muggle.

Harry steered Acheron away from two Greek soldiers, using little nudges to the small of the man’s back.




 

 

On their way back, both smiling and Harry asking Acheron a few questions about what the play had meant and what did some word mean in Greek, Acheron stiffened and curled into himself.

“Acheron?” Harry whispered, getting in front of him and tilting Acheron’s chin up with a gentle hand.

“My brother,” Acheron murmured shakily, his silver eyes wide with fear.

Harry turned to look out at the crowd, spotting Styxx in an instant. The other blond haired prince stood out in the group of people as he talked, loud and arrogant. Though, Harry’s narrowed as Styxx tripped over a ditch in the road. He could see Styxx stiffen minutely but not in seeing Acheron or a family member. It was more like Styxx was injured somehow, and didn’t want anyone to know about it, but Harry shook it off, turning back to Acheron as his brother’s posse grew closer.

“Come on,” Harry whispered, cautiously tugging Acheron over into an alley. A few Greek soldiers looked their way but otherwise didn’t move. “Acheron, I’m here. You’re safe.”

“They’re going to see us and I will get punished,” Acheron murmured, his eyes wide and color draining from his face. He drew his hood further up over his hair and pushed the strands further under the cloth.

Harry hesitantly reached out, nudging Acheron back up against the stone wall opposite them, taking a step to close the distance between them. “They’re not going to see us.”

“Aodhán…” Acheron trailed off, his eyes going even wider at their closeness. They watched as the group of Greek soldiers started to walk their way.

“Sure fire way to get people to ignore us,” Harry whispered, catching Acheron’s eyes. “It’s just me, Acheron. Not gonna hurt you or do anything you don’t want, okay?”

Acheron stared at him, for once frozen with fear and Harry froze too, hearing the soldiers call out to them, then leaned in, placing his lips against Acheron’s. Acheron blinked as Harry pulled away only a little bit, silver eyes going wider. Harry raised an eyebrow as Acheron tentatively reached his arms out to pull Harry in again, their lips meeting again. Acheron whined low in his throat as Harry deepened the kiss, distantly aware that the soldiers stopped moving towards them. Sparks of warmth coiled in Harry’s body as they moved. Harry wrapped his own arms around Acheron, mindful of the places that Acheron didn’t like to be touched, and slowly moved his hands underneath Acheron’s tunic, fingers meeting skin.

Acheron groaned, arching into his hands, digging his fingers into Harry’s back. Acheron stilled and then Harry pulled back, his pupils blown with lust and his breaths heavy and fast. “It’s okay. You can touch me all you want but I think the soldiers are gone.”

Acheron took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Aodhán had finally kissed him and it had been wonderful. It wasn’t a kiss he had been paid to do and nor had he been forced into it. That had been the first time he had wanted to kiss someone and it was the person who had been like an anchor to him throughout the past few weeks.




 

 

The next evening, Harry or the Englishman whose body he was inhabiting, stepped through the door of his home and stopped immediately. It looked like there had been a struggle and he reflexively went for his sword, yanking it from his back and walking deeper into the small mansion.

“Acheron?”

Harry walked through the home and into what had been Acheron’s room and didn’t see his friend. He wished he had access to his magic as he spotted a drop or two of blood by the bed. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he followed the blood trail, following where it led out of the house and back onto the street.

The people on the street crossed the street to avoid him as he walked, having an idea about where Acheron was most probably taken. Harry moved to the backseat in the Englishman’s mind, watching as he sheathed the sword then seemed to follow some invisible trail all the way to the palace. He stopped, took in the palace and the many servants walking about it. He idly wondered if Ryssa, Acheron’s sister, knew that Acheron had been taken. Wondered what had happened.

Harry waited for an hour or two, his stomach starting to rumble for dinner. He was about to go back home, start anew tomorrow, when he saw Ryssa walk out of the palace and go towards the building to the left of it. Harry distinctly remembered that someone had said it was where the dungeons were and he stiffened, thinking about what being in a cell would do to Acheron. The images weren’t pleasant but he followed Ryssa, using everything that he learned while on the run from Voldemort.

He quietly padded forward, catching the door when Ryssa stepped through it. It was dusk so not a lot of people saw him as he stepped through, quietly closing the door behind him.

Ryssa turned to look at him, her long blond hair curled up in a bun, and her pretty blue eyes calculating. “You’re the man that Acheron spoke of.”

“Aodhán, my lady.”

“You know that Acheron was taken then.”

Harry nodded.

“He’s in here,” Ryssa spoke, shivering a little. “Our father put him in here.”

“He looks like your other brother,” Harry remarked gently. “People were talking of him, weren’t they?”

Ryssa shuddered and nodded. “Come on. Let’s see if we can get him out.”

Harry followed Ryssa as they walked through the dungeon, passing several occupied cells. The inmates all yelled out to Ryssa as they passed, wanting to fuck her, wanting her forgiveness, wanting to get her to talk to her father for them. They ended up at the end of the dungeon, awaiting a guard’s approval to get past him.

“Princess, this is no place for you. Turn around and leave.”

“I am seeing my brother with or without your approval,” Ryssa argued.

The guard stared at the both of them then sighed. “You have five minutes.”

Ryssa smiled and they both passed the guard, seeing the small door at the end of the hall. Harry’s eyes widened as he saw which cell Acheron was in. He had been in here before, escorting a prisoner of war into the dungeon and… “Acheron...”

“Aodhán?”

“Brother, you’re alive,” Ryssa whispered, hurrying over to the cell door and dropping down to slide her hand through the small window.

“Ryssa. Aodhán, did you order her to bring you here?” Acheron retorted, his voice dry and breath shallow from what Harry could hear.

Harry grinned wearily, sliding his own hand through. “Who do you take me for, Acheron? She more or less ordered me in with her. Why… Are you hurt?”

He heard Acheron snort and grasp his hand, hoping that Acheron took some comfort from it. They had started sleeping in the same bed last night and Harry had woken up with Acheron in his arms, the beautiful young man who had caught Harry’s eyes and heart.

Acheron’s hand started to shake and Harry winced, his imagination not doing him any favors for wondering what kind of condition Acheron was in. Acheron was tall and Harry didn’t know how he was fitting in that cell. Harry had heard that Acheron was limber but this? That cell was inhumane and cruel. Granted, Harry had yet to hear Acheron tell him a happy memory except for staying with his sister for a few months several years ago. Nothing about the man was happy now.

Harry tightened his own hand over Acheron’s, feeling the various callouses from sword training, and glanced to Ryssa. “He’s…

Acheron gripped his hand tighter, almost wanting to tell Harry something but not wanting to speak in front of Ryssa. “Ryssa, this is no place for you. You should go.”

“We’ll get you out of here, dear brother,” Ryssa spoke.

Harry breathed out a deep sigh, knowing that Ryssa, Acheron and Styxx’s father damn well was not going to let that happen. “I will come visit each day, okay?”

His stomach growled again and Acheron huffed out a laugh, weary and weak.

“Aodhán, go eat dinner. I’m not going anywhere. Take Ryssa out with you.”

Harry flinched at Acheron’s voice then nodded, standing up and tightening his grip on Acheron’s hand one more time.

 




Harry bade Ryssa goodbye then walked off and was about to leave the palace when he heard something behind him. It was almost like a whisper on the wind and he was about to turn around when white hot pain speared through him. His knees buckled as a dagger struck him again and again, striking his back and then one struck his neck. He fell, blood gurgling out through his mouth, onto his back and caught a glimpse of a beautiful redheaded woman walking away before everything went black.

 




He opened his eyes, or at least, he thought he did to a ghostly train station. There were people milling about, at least five or six, and they all looked like gods. Some were dark skinned while others were pale and they were all dressed in finery from all over the world. One woman had a crow on her shoulder while a man and woman were close enough together to be lovers.

“Where am I? And what the fuck did I just see?”

“You are in limbo as the mortals call it,” one of the men came forward. He had dark long hair and dark eyes but when he looked on the woman next to him, his eyes softened. “I am Hades. Roll call everyone. We finally have a Master of Death.”

There were gasps from everyone in the crowd but then they all looked at him, delighted, and introduced themselves.

Hades. Persephone. Anubis. Osiris. The Morrigan. Hela. Charon. Freya.

Gods and goddesses of Death.

One woman stood apart from everyone. She was tall, beautiful and had the same eyes as… Harry’s breath stuttered to a halt as he recognized her eyes. Those swirling silver eyes. “Who… Are you…?”

“Acheron’s mother. Yes. I am Apollymi, Atlantean Goddess of life, death and wisdom.”

Harry stared and stared, studying the woman just as much as she was studying him. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms.

“They said he was godborn,” Harry murmured. “They didn’t know which god. I’m sorry about his… life. Mortal or not, no one deserves that and he was just an innocent human.”

Apollymi blinked, her silver eyes softening a little before she grinned, a hint of mischief showing in her eyes. “It was not your fault but thank you. I know he appreciated your kindness and comfort.”

“I… good. That was a shit life,” Harry remarked glancing at the ghostly train as it came into the station. “I wish I could have helped him more.”

“You helped him as much as you could and for that, you have my thanks,” Apollymi spoke, taking a step closer towards him. “Your own mother has spoken to me of you. You have lived a rough life also.”

Harry tilted his head in confusion as she took another step towards him.

“I hope the Marauders haven’t given you a lot of trouble,” Harry offered, smiling a little.

Persephone snorted from where she was next to Hades. “Your dogfather is quite hilarious.”

Harry laughed, feeling the aches and pains that he had amassed in the last battle against Voldemort. His whole body felt like it was dying, little flares of pain shooting up everywhere. “What was that thing I witnessed anyway? I was sharing another’s body.”

“Ah, that was a past life,” Osiris answered, his Egyptian accent foreign and low. “When people- you die, you experience your past lives. For you, it was that one.”

“As Master of Death, you can call on us anytime,” The Morrigan said. “For help or for advice.”

Anubis walked over to stand next to Hades, followed by every god and goddess.

“You are the Master of Death, Harry James Potter. We answer to you.”

“What would you like to do now?” Hades questioned.

Harry stared and stared, hearing as if from far away, the elder wand humming in his ear. He looked over to where Apollymi was, away from the group then sighed. “But I’m just… Harry.”

Apollymi’s lips twitched up into a small grin. “Go kick Voldemort’s ass for one. You will have my blessing for that one.”

Hela snorted. “You mean your hellhounds, Apollymi.”

“Oh, and that too.”




 

Harry stared out at the crumbling ruins of Hogwarts an hour after the fight. Voldemort was dead by his hand and now… He glanced down to the elder wand in his palm and at the hellhound beside his feet. The hellhound had fire spread out along its’ back and a forked tail, with fiery red eyes. Cerberus was standing behind him, its’ three heads sniffing around, at ease for once. The crow that had sat on the Morrigan’s shoulder was on his own shoulder, cawing every once and awhile.

“Uh, Harry? What exactly happened when you were… you know…” Ron trailed off, as he and Hermione stopped well before Cerberus and exchanged bewildered looks. “Your eyes are glowing white too.”

The wind picked up around them, curling around Harry and ruffling his hair. Harry grinned, remembering faintly that Apollymi was the daughter of a wind goddess. Apollymi’s spirit whispered something to him on the wind then flew off. A whisper of waiting, of staying in place.

“It’s a long story,” Harry commented, his heart still wishing for another, for the young man who had had such a difficult life all because his eyes were silver. “You know what, I think I’ll stick around for our eighth year.”

Hermione grinned. “Good for you. Ron?”

Cerberus howled, loud and eerie. The hellhound joined in, creating a sad yet joyful sound.

“Sure.”




 

 

Six months later, all the eight years who had stuck around were all at one table, regardless of house. The rest of the kids were at various tables and they were all looking at the eighth years, their eyes wide with awe. Harry was sitting next to Hermione and Ron and across from Draco, who was sitting next to Charlie. Ron’s older brother had come for the opening ceremony, having helped rebuild the castle.

Headmistress McGonagall was standing in Dumbledore’s space, talking of rebuilding the wizarding world and love winning over hate. Her eyes were sad as she looked over to where the group of eight years were sitting, reminded of who they lost.

Harry grinned at Dean and Seamus, who grinned back, and the feast began a few minutes later after McGonagall finished her speech. And just as soon as the food appeared, a big boom echoed throughout the great hall. The clouds on the Hogwarts ceiling flowed towards the great door as it opened. Harry turned to look, half expecting Quirrell to run in and say something about a troll. He snorted at the thought and Hermione raised an eyebrow. He shook his head and watched as one man stepped through.

His breath caught, stuttering to a halt, as he watched the man he thought to be dead walk in, down the aisle.

“...Harry?”

“Harry! Mate, you okay?”

He muttered curse words under his breath, with the distinct feeling that they weren’t in English. He watched as Acheron glanced over towards their table, sunglasses hiding his silver eyes and instead of blond, black hair with red strands in the front. The man was wearing a black cloak and a band t-shirt and was clearly visible since everyone had stopped to stare at him. Acheron’s gaze moved right over him, passing him, and as he passed Harry and his friends, Harry stood up, clumsily tripping over the bench.

“Acheron?”

Acheron stopped, frozen to the floor as he turned around.

Harry stared.

Acheron stared, body frozen, as he took in the strange young man in front of him. Green eyes, wild black hair and a scar that looked like a lightning bolt on his forehead. “Who… Do I know you?”

“You…” Harry trailed off, wandlessly casting a ward of hiding around them. The great hall around them blurred, making it so that they were alone and no one could eavesdrop. “You knew Aodhán.”

Acheron’s eyes widened, feeling the young wizard’s power curl around them both, hiding them from view as it blurred everyone else out. “You’re… You’re not Aodhán. He died.”

“No, I’m not. He was my past life though.”

“How…” Acheron stared wordlessly, taking a step closer to… “What’s your name?”

“Harry James Potter. Sorry, I forgot about that. I…”

“You did say you had a war back home,” Acheron murmured hesitantly, his heart beating so quickly. The man who had taught him so much, how to fight and how to shield his mind… This was him? “Are you really who I think you are?”

“Your sister was Ryssa and your brother was Styxx,” Harry whispered, taking a step closer too and leaving only a few inches between them. “Your father was an asshat. And your uncle even more so. You were such a quick learner at shielding your mind.”

Acheron huffed out a strangled laugh. “That’s because I had a good teacher.”

Harry grinned through watery eyes.

“We only kissed once,” Harry finished, wiping his eyes. “I promised not to hurt you or use you.”

Acheron knew that Simi had to be very curious. He had never told anyone but his mother about Aodhán and now… Acheron closed the rest of the distance between them and peered into Harry’s green eyes, seeing affection and love there. Harry smiled hesitantly and wrapped his arms around Acheron, slowly pulling him into a hug. The touch released a weight that Acheron had unknowingly been carrying for the past 11,000 years and he tentatively leaned into Harry.

“Harry,” Acheron whispered, feeling tears pool in his eyes and not caring at all. He melted into the other man, his knees buckling with the knowledge that his friend, maybe lover, had followed him into the present. “Aodhán. Little fire.”

Harry grinned and pressed a kiss to his forehead and then another, to which Acheron leaned up to catch it on his lips.

“Acheron,” Harry whispered quietly, against his mouth. “I knew there was something your mom wasn’t telling me. I knew it!”

Acheron laughed as they pulled apart. “You talked to my mom? I apologize.”

“Well, I had the whole welcoming committee,” Harry commented, as Acheron leaned into him, placing his ear over Harry’s heart and listening to it beat.

“Hmm?”

“I’m apparently now the Master of Death.”

“Oh, apparently?”

“It’s a thing.”

“And that’s why my matera urged me to come to Hogwarts,” Acheron muttered. “To see you.”

“We’ll have to thank her.”

Gentle fingers ran through his hair and Acheron leaned further into Harry, resting his forehead against Harry’s shoulder. “Love the hair, by the way.”

“One of the perks of being a god.”

“Which god are you then?”

“Apostolos.”

“Who?”

“God of Final Fate.”

“No big deal then,” Harry teased.

Acheron laughed as Harry tightened his arms around him. Acheron in turn wrapped his own arms around Harry, enjoying being safe. And he knew Harry would keep him safe, like Aodhán promised and they were one and the same person.

 

Chapter Text

When Harry arrived in Alagaesia, he sighed deeply at hearing that there was a dark lord here too. He only perked up at the thought of rescuing the king’s dragon, an allegedly giant dragon, who had been forced into doing the king’s dirty work and had been forced to bond with the king. Shruikan was infamous throughout the kingdom of Alagaesia, having been forced to kill many of his own kind and twisted by black magic.

“There any chance to save him?” Eragon asked, looking over at Elva.

The strange, young girl shook her head, catching Harry’s eyes. “No. He is lost in his own pain.”

“I understand that,” Harry muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I’m still going to see what I can do to help the dragon.”

Eragon exchanged glances with Murtagh, whom Harry had saved a month ago. Saphira and Thorn were sitting outside, talking with each other. Harry James Potter had appeared last month with no fanfare and no intention to fight for either side. He had just told them that this was a detour, a rest stop, on a longer journey.

“There is no sanity in that one,” Elva argued. “Shruikan is not worth the effort.”

Harry sighed and looked out of the tent that they were in. The Varden’s forces were camped out before the capital, digging trenches and forming lines. “I know a little of insanity. The friend that I’m looking for has a father who is dangerously insane. But if I can help this dragon then I can help my friend.”

“Do what you will,” Murtagh remarked. “I am grateful to you for releasing me from the king and I know that Shruikan… He deserved better.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Murtagh gestured to Thorn, whose tail Harry could see the tip of under the tent wall. “Shruikan trained Thorn.”

“Alright.”

Eragon was about to speak when they all heard yells and shouts around them. A guard poked their head in, saying something about a black something flying over the camp. Harry stilled then brought out his broom, resizing it and running out of the tent, peering up into the night sky, the fires and the lanterns around them not aiding his night vision.

When a tent not too far away from them caught fire, with black flame, Harry steadied himself and mounted his broom, taking flight a minute later. Harry cast a charm on himself, tweaking his vision, enhancing his night sight before having to swerve around Shruikan. The big, black dragon was just flying willy nilly above the Varden’s camp, setting everything on fire with his black flame.

Harry could easily sense the emotions from the dragon, the pain and anger that it was feeling would have driven him to his knees had he been standing on the ground. As it was, he was dangerously unseated from his broom and had to take a few precious seconds to steady himself, breathing heavily. He reached out with his mind, casting his patronus with a thought and watched as Prongs danced outward, keeping pace with his broom.

The glowing, translucent deer glanced at him questionly.

“Just my saving people thing, Prongs,” Harry whispered under his breath, the wind buffeting him so much that he couldn’t hear anything else except his own breathing. “Though in this case, it’s a dragon that needs saving.”

Prongs dipped his head in a nod then galloped off. Harry zoomed off, flying alongside Shruikan and keeping pace with the dragon’s big bulk. “Shruikan! Stop!”

Shruikan stopped mid air, his wings beating the air every few seconds. If Harry hadn’t charmed his vision, he wouldn’t be able to see the dragon now. All he would see was another part of the night sky, darkness lit up by the stars above them.

Pain-fear-anger-hurt-rage.

Harry’s heart stopped as the dragon pushed those emotions at him, turning his big body towards him. Shruikan’s pale blue eyes glared at him, pupils wide with anger and pain. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Pain-fear-...confusion...hurt.

“You don’t have to do this, Shruikan. This is not you.”

It… IT IS ME.

Harry frowned, seeing Prongs out of the corner of his eye. “The king made you do all of this, Shruikan. You did not choose this.”

The black dragon facing him growled and was about to charge towards him when Prongs raced past his head. The patronus lit up the night sky, running circles around the airborne dragon, creating a kind of wall of light between Harry and Shruikan. The light hummed out its song, aided by the patronus, singing of peace, warmth and safety. Harry watched as the translucent deer almost seemed to whinny, galloping around the broken dragon faster and faster.

Shruikan roared, writhing in mid air as the light tightened around him, the range of it growing smaller and smaller as it closed in on the dragon. The light finally sunk into Shruikan’s scales and the dragon froze then started to plummet downward. Harry quickly followed, glancing down to where Eragon and Murtagh were now clearing room, having watched the spectacle.

With a loud crash, Shruikan tumbled into the ground, shaking the earth around him for miles. Harry touched down, right near Shruikan’s head and tucked his broom away, distantly hearing Murtagh argue that Harry should be given space and that the Varden shouldn’t immediately kill the king’s dragon. Archers spread out around the downed Shruikan, bows nocked and ready to kill him.

Harry stiffened then reached down to the earth, muttering shielding wards under his breath. Blue light sprang up around him and Shruikan, who was unconscious, and surrounded them, shielding them from the soldiers who did not know better. He glanced at Murtagh, who nodded, then turned back to watch Shruikan. The power of his patronus was still flowing through the black dragon, shining its light. The big bulk of the dragon in front of him began to shrink, the black magic cast by Galbatorix being removed so much so that Shruikan shrank in size.

 

 


 

 

Once the final battle was done, Harry strode out to where Shruikan was penned in. The king was dead and Eragon, Saphira, Oromis, Glaedr, Thorn and Murtagh were helping to clean up in the city. Harry had taken off once he wasn’t needed and flew over to Shruikan, where he had been fenced in by the Varden. The rebel forces had feared that Shruikan might do something but Harry was pretty confident that Shruikan was healing after years spent being abused. And maybe Shruikan would never be the same but Harry understood that much.

The black dragon had been asleep since Harry had cast the cleansing ritual around the creature. The Rider bond between Shruikan and the king had snapped that day and had nudged Shruikan into unconsciousness. Shruikan was still big but wasn’t the size of a small mountain, wasn’t twisted by dark magic. But Harry dropped down to land before the dragon, sitting down next to his still big head and started to speak, sensing that Shruikan just needed a little push to wake up.

“Shruikan, I know you hate us humans now,” Harry whispered, shielding his eyes from the sun as it moved out from under a cloud. He knew that the other dragons loved the sun so he didn’t immediately cast a sun shield over them. “Not all of us are like Galbatorix though. Some of us… I understand what you went through.”

Shruikan twitched next to him, opening one big, pale blue eye and glaring at him.

You were not forced to kill your own kind. You were not forced to grow and grow unnaturally. You were not abused until you went crazy.

“I… I was. The first 20 years of my life I lived with my aunt and uncle,” Harry offered gently, reaching out tentatively to hover over Shruikan’s black scales at his neck. “They locked me in a cupboard, starved me, beat me a few times. Of course, I went to a school for wizards starting when I was 11 but that didn’t help.”

School for wizards?

Harry nodded, still keeping an eye on Shruikan as he watched the Varden escort prisoners out of the city. “Hogwarts. Where I come from, magicians were called wizards and witches. We learned everything from healing to defense to potions to care of magical creatures.”

You… are not from here?

“No. And I do not plan on staying here,” Harry spoke, letting his hand lower until he touched Shruikan’s warm scales. Shruikan startled a little, raising his head until he looked Harry in the eyes. They stared at each other for a few quiet minutes, with Harry just letting Shruikan study him. “It was… a detour, if you will. An accidental one. I wanted to see if you might like to come with me. Get away from Alagaesia for a while, go somewhere else and just laze around, heal, explore…”

Go… to another world?

“Yes. I have a friend,” Harry said. “His name is Rhaegar and he’s in danger.”

Shruikan eyed him, his pale blue eyes narrowed in thought.

You saved me.

“You’re welcome?”

Shruikan let out a rumbling sound, almost like a laugh.

I will go with you. It would be nice to experience another land not my own. On one condition.

Harry grinned slowly, peering over to look right into Shruikan’s eyes. “Yes?”

You will be the only person to ride me.

“Done. I… Would you like to bond with me or not? I don’t mind either way.”

Shruikan raised his head, silent for a few minutes as some servants brought some meat for him to consume. Harry’s nose wrinkled at the sight of the freshly slaughtered cow but Shruikan dove right in, chewing the bones and the meat equally.

Oromis and Glaedr walked over, with the golden dragon stopping well before Shruikan.

“You are leaving.” Oromis watched as Harry started to stroke Shruikan’s black scales as the black dragon ate, the elf’s eyes widening minutely.

“Yes. I have a friend who needs me,” Harry remarked then walked over to Oromis, peering over at Glaedr. “Shruikan’s coming with me so you won’t need to decide what to do with him.”

Oromis raised an eyebrow but nodded. “That is good. Shruikan probably needs some distraction. I can’t even imagine the pain that dragon’s going through right now.”

Glaedr caught Harry’s eyes. Be careful with that one and thank you for saving my Rider’s life.

“Harry, Glaedr wanted me to give you this,” Oromis said, pulling a scroll out of his belt and handing it over. “Glaedr found a bonding ritual. It has the same result as when a dragon first hatches and touches its’ chosen Rider. We figured… He thought that you might want that.”

Harry’s eyes widened, glancing down at the scroll then tucking it within his pack. “Thank you. I don’t know what Shruikan will want to do but thank you.”

 


 

 

“Okay, Shruikan,” Harry spoke, lightly climbing aboard the dragon and sitting down on the borrowed saddle on Shruikan’s back. He glanced down at his pack, having tied it to the saddle, and then to Gryffindor’s sword then nodded. “Let’s take off. Let me do the portal spell and then you can just fly right through.”

Just don’t do any magic on me for a while, okay?

Harry dipped his head in a nod. “Of course. I understand, Shruikan.”

Shruikan lifted up, his thick, sturdy legs raising up off the ground. The soldiers around him backed up, made room for the black dragon to run. Harry waved to Oromis and Glaedr, pondered what he was going to see when they got to Westeros.

Harry dipped his head in a nod, grasped the spike closest to the saddle on Shruikan’s back. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

He muttered the spell out loud, under his breath, thinking of Rhaegar at the same time, feeling his power roll around him and through him then outward. It created a big portal in the sky, an opening to another world. Shruikan loped off and Harry grinned, enjoying the feel of the dragon’s muscles beneath him. They took flight a minute later, soaring up, up, up into the sky, coasting a breeze.

Through there?

“Yes. Are you sure you want to go?” Harry asked one more time, as they hovered right before the portal. Shruikan’s wings were beating slowly, lazily, like they had all the time in the world. Harry watched as Shruikan turned his neck around, to better look him in the eyes.

Yes. No one will know me there, only you.

Shruikan bellowed, blowing out black flame up into the clouds then raced forward, right through the portal.

 

 


 

 

Rhaegar urged his horse forward, his blade already in his hands, as he watched Robert move forward through his troops. It was warm, a slight breeze winding their way through the trees at the far edge of the Trident. The waters upon the river were flowing fast but not enough to keep horses from running through it. It was shallow at this point, the only spot in the three rivers that allowed people to cross.

He could see Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Hoster Tully all waiting behind Lord Robert Baratheon, their armor bloody and filthy from fighting. It was a miracle that they were all still horsed.

Ser Lewyn Martell and Ser Barristan Selmy were flanking him and Rhaegar’s eyes went to where Ser Jonothor had fallen. The kingsguard knight had fallen while defending him against Lord Robert at first charge while Ser Barristan had taken an injury to his arm.

Rhaegar still didn’t know where Harry was, where the man of his dreams had traveled to. The wizard had said he would try to get to Westeros but then a few days later, their connection had disappeared. He had had no more dreams of the black haired, green eyed man. Just nightmares of increasing strength, his mind showing what might have happened to him. Dreams of Harry dead, bleeding out where no one cared for him, or of Harry splinched. Rhaegar had half understood what Harry had meant when he used that word but he had flinched.

“Rhaegar, please don’t get yourself killed,” Lewyn murmured, over the din of the bannermen. A mere 5,000 Dornishmen were left behind them, most injured, some still a horse. There were still loyalist troops behind them too though many were exhausted and injured.

“RHAEGAR!!”

Rhaegar flinched as Robert rode up, stopping at the other side of the river crossing. Robert had on thick armor and the antler helm, holding a war hammer in his hands.

“Robert!” Rhaegar spoke, raising his voice only a little. “This must stop!”

“You didn’t hear, did you? I put forth a claim to the throne!” Robert yelled, his horse taking a step into the water.

Rhaegar’s eyes widened then narrowed. “No. You have none.”

“When your dragonspawn are dead and you are gone as well, it shall be me. You stole Lyanna from me!”

“I-”

A roar interrupted Rhaegar and then the sun disappeared. He heard gasps behind him and Ser Lewyn and Ser Barristan urged their horses closer to him, drawing their weapons. A strong gust of wind hit the water, causing the water to speed up greatly. Rhaegar glanced up to the sky, his jaw dropping when he saw what was blocking the sun.

A giant, black dragon slowly lowered itself down through the air, its head peering at them. Its eyes were pale blue as Rhaegar saw as it grew closer, the pupils narrowed. It gave a great bellow as it hovered many feet above them, causing most of the horses to whinny in fright. Some bucked off their riders and galloped off. Robert Baratheon’s horse reared, screaming. Robert fell off and Rhaegar only spared a minute to be spiteful then returned his focus on the dragon. The dragon that was big, about the size of manse.

It slowly lowered onto the river crossing, growling out at the riders on the other side of the river. And that was when Rhaegar finally realized that there was a man on top of the dragon. A man that looked awfully familiar.

The dragon roared, throwing up its head and blowing out a big plume of black fire. Rhaegar could see Lord Stark, Lord Tully and Lord Arryn all urge their horses back and their men back. Some of the men had drawn their swords and Rhaegar could see some archers move forward with intent.

“Rhaegar! Come on!” Barristan yelled, trying to urge him away. Rhaegar could see Ser Barristan’s eyes were wide, his fingers gripping his sword tightly. “We can’t keep you safe from…”

“I know him!” Rhaegar yelled back, over the sound of horses screaming and gasps and yells from people around him. The wind too was loud as the dragon’s wings beat idly and Rhaegar was awed into silence, as the dragon turned its neck to look straight at him. His horse had yet to rear or buck him off so he took the chance, urging his stallion ahead, into the water.

“Harry!!”

The man on top of the dragon, sitting on the saddle, turned. His green eyes lit up as Rhaegar came closer.

“Don’t come any closer,” Harry ordered, raising his voice. He patted the dragon’s back. “He’s wary of people. What in the seven hells is going on?”

“Long story,” Rhaegar replied, his eyes still wide and his heart beating so very, very fast. “Where have you been?”

“Long story,” Harry spoke, his lips twitching up into a grin then he frowned, turning to peer down at the dragon.

Rhaegar watched as Harry muttered something under his breath then glanced towards him.

“Who... Shruikan!”

The dragon growled, smoke coming from its nostrils, and quick as a snake flashing out to grab a snack, reached out and grabbed Robert Baratheon by his armor. Robert yelled, squirming around in the dragon’s jaws, trying to reach for his dropped sword. Blood spurted from Robert’s shoulders as the dragon’s teeth punctured the armor.

“Rhaegar, do you have something to say to this man?” Harry finally spoke, wrinkling his nose at something. “Something like fuck off?”

Rhaegar steered his incredibly brave horse around, feeling it shake beneath him. The huge, black dragon swung around, bringing Robert around so they could face each other. The men across the river were frozen, unsure what to do. They were not listening to whatever Lord Stark, Lord Tully or Lord Arryn were saying, too afraid of the giant dragon in front of them.

Robert glared hatred at him, this time staying still. The man had gone pale, losing blood at an alarming rate as the dragon’s teeth impaled him. “House Targaryen will never rise again. You and your mother and father and brother can rot. The Stranger will take you.”

“Well, I think not,” Harry interrupted. “Over my dead body will that be happening and I’m a little hard to kill. Besides, you wouldn’t want Shruikan to go on a killing spree.”

“Shruikan?” Rhaegar muttered.

“Long story,” Harry whispered, as he slid down off the dragon’s back. “Did you really kidnap Lyanna Stark?”

“No, of course not. She wanted freedom,” Rhaegar said. “She went with me of her own free will.”

“You kidnapped her! Tell them!”

“I did not,” Rhaegar spoke.

Robert yelled out, squirming around in the dragon’s mouth, until the dragon seemingly got tired of holding him. Rhaegar watched without much pity as the dragon shook Robert around, lifted up onto its hind legs, and then threw Robert down. The Lord of Storm’s End hit the water with a loud crack, hitting rocks, and then submerged, never coming back up.

 


 

 

Harry stood in the corner of the tent, watching as the Lords of the houses that had opposed Rhaegar swore fealty to him. His dragon prince had accepted Lord Stark’s surrender easily and had persuaded every Lord there to support Rhaegar, not his father.

Shruikan had stuck his head into the tent and Harry had rolled his eyes, casting a spell on the tent to make it raise higher into the sky. Every time that smoke rolled its way out of Shruikan’s nose, Lord Eddard’s hand dropped to his sword. Ser Barristan stood by Rhaegar’s side though Ser Barristan was leaning on one of the tent poles. Harry had tried to heal him but Ser Barristan had said no. Rhaegar had said Ser Lewyn to collect Lyanna from wherever she was, sending most of the Martell forces back home with him.

“You swear that you will not fight me on this?” Rhaegar asked, his purple eyes narrowed, as he looked over the assembled lords. Lord Arryn and Lord Tully had appointed Lord Stark their voice, seeing as Lord Eddard Stark still had to find his sister, and he was the only able to stay calm with Shruikan so close. “I will tell you where your sister is, I promise. I only wanted to keep her safe.”

“I never thought you had kidnapped her, my lord,” Lord Stark replied, his grey eyes narrowed in thought. Stark’s thoughts were loud in his mind as Harry read him, mostly thoughts of his sister and some of his father and brother. Harry winced as he realized that Rhaegar’s father had been busy. But regardless, there were no thoughts of further rebellion in Stark’s mind, at least for now.

Rhaegar turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. Harry shook his head.

“I accept your surrender,” Rhaegar spoke, dipping his head in a nod, as his eyes moved to Shruikan then back to Lord Stark. “We shall ride for the capital when your men are ready. I will expect your firstborn as a hostage for good faith.”

Lord Stark’s eyes widened, his shoulders dropping.

“My prince…” Harry started. “I believe there is no need for that.”

Rhaegar turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

“With Shruikan here, the threat of dragonflame is enough,” Harry offered quietly, gesturing to the black dragon behind them.

“You… are correct,” Rhaegar said. “I however will raise Lyanna’s child.”

 

 


 

 

“Harry,” Rhaegar whispered, as Harry’s arms went around him. Night had fallen and the glow of fires surrounded them. Shruikan was barely visible in the middle of their camp, his big bulk taking up a lot of space. His bannermen had taken to swerving around the dragon, after seeing what Shruikan did to Robert.

“Rhaegar,” Harry murmured, one of his arms cupping Rhaegar’s neck.

“I missed you,” Rhaegar spoke, leaning into Harry, who tightened his arms around him. They were in Rhaegar’s tent, alone, except for Ser Barristan at the entrance. Harry had already moved his trunk into Rhaegar’s tent, moved the saddle that had been on Shruikan’s back into the corner.  “So much.”

“I did too,” Harry returned, placing a kiss on Rhaegar’s forehead.

“What… happened while you were lost? And to come to me with a dragon…”

“Lots of things,” Harry said, a slight weary undertone to his voice. “Shruikan, as I said, is weary of humans for a good reason. It’d be best to approach him with me around. What happened here?”

“Robert… happened,” Rhaegar answered, sighing in frustration. “Lyanna had wanted to get away from everything and I agreed to protect her. I… spent a night in bed with her, Harry.”

Harry was silent for a few minutes, their breathing the only sound in the tent. “I don’t mind. You didn’t marry her, did you?”

“No. Her child will be a bastard until I sit on the throne,” Rhaegar whispered. “Of course, Aerys wanted me to marry, nearly forced me to marry, but I said no.”

“Because you love me.”

Rhaegar snorted, shivering as one of Harry’s hands moved down to his waist, sliding between Rhaegar’s tunic and his skin. “Because I love you, yes.”

“I love you too,” Harry said quietly, his green eyes intent on him. “Will you be needed in the next few hours?”

Rhaegar shook his head, breathless, as he watched Harry grin.

 

 


 

 

Harry woke up a few hours later, oddly awake for some reason. Rhaegar was asleep in his arms, shirtless and his silver hair splayed out behind him. He had fallen asleep as soon as Harry had pulled out of him, laid a kiss on his forehead. Harry smiled wearily, sitting up and spotting Shruikan’s big bulk beyond the tent walls. It looked like the big dragon had fallen asleep curled around the tent, providing a bulky, fire breathing wall between them and any danger.

Harry yawned, slowly disentangled himself and went over to his trunk, opening it. Harry’s eyes widened as he peered into it, pulling out the red egg that was nestled at the top of his clothes. The egg was moderately big, red with golden veins right underneath the shell. Harry stared at it then blinked.

“Harry?”

He glanced over to Rhaegar, who had woken up. The man was blearily blinking, purple eyes narrowed. Harry hesitantly walked back over to the bed, sitting down and shuffling over to Rhaegar’s side, handing him the egg, the warm egg.

“What…” Rhaegar trailed off, now fully awake and eyes wide.

“Something must have happened,” Harry whispered. “The world I was in… there were dragon riders and their dragons. However, they thought that there were no more eggs. I guess they were wrong.”

Rhaegar stared at him, reaching out for the red egg and cradling it within his legs. Rhaegar stared at it, transfixed, smoothing a hand over it in awe right before they both heard cracks. The egg started to crack open, breaking up, until a clawed, ruby red limb stuck out. It was a bit lighter than Thorn had been but it was definitely red.

Shruikan stuck his head in, having woken up. The black dragon’s pale blue eyes were wide.

Where did that egg come from?

“I don’t know,” Harry replied, looking over at Shruikan in thought.

The baby dragon inside clawed its way out, the tiny body toddling out, revealing a tiny red dragon with four limbs and two wings. Rhaegar didn’t seem to be breathing, his eyes wide with awe and amazement.

“Harry… what…”

“The dragons from the world I was in… hatch when they choose a rider,” Harry explained quietly, so quietly, not wanting to disrupt the moment. “This little one must have chosen you.”

“Chosen me???” Rhaegar whispered, reaching out to let the dragonet sniff him. The red baby dragon peered up at him then it touched its nose to his finger and Harry’s eyes widened as wild magic flowed throughout the tent. It was like a live wire, transferring power between human and dragon. It appeared to go on for several minutes, with Rhaegar lighting up in Harry’s senses.

After what felt like an hour but was only twenty minutes, the red dragonet chittered, its wings fluttering slightly. Rhaegar blinked, finally peering at the dragon with love in his eyes. “You chose me?”

The baby dragon nodded, toddling over to sit in Rhaegar’s lap and curled up, burrowing into Rhaegar’s arms.

“What… Harry?” Rhaegar spoke, picking up his left hand and opening it, palm up. The Gedwey Ignasia shone brightly, burned onto Rhaegar’s palm.

“It means you’re a Dragon Rider,” Harry said. “And… you will be able to use magic, like I do.”

Rhaegar stared at him, glanced down at it, then over at him, reaching down to gently stroke the dragonet’s wings. The red dragon chirped in happiness, nuzzling into Rhaegar’s hand. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I love you too,” Harry replied, grinning a little, lying back down on the bed. “We have a kingdom to rescue tomorrow and you have a father to deal with. We should get some sleep.”

Rhaegar rolled his eyes but nodded. “I’ll have my men find some food for both dragons tomorrow, assuming Shruikan won’t eat anyone.”

“He won’t,” Harry replied, watching as Rhaegar lay down too, the dragonet curling itself on his chest with a happy sigh.

Chapter Text

Don’t arrive on the rooftop this time.

Harry blinked then shrugged, glanced down to the building underneath. He was a ways above it, having decided to fly over this time to get some time in the air. But apparently… He pondered Harvey’s words, narrowly missing a startled pigeon that had just taken flight, and then grinned, knowing what Harvey intended.

He made sure the disillusionment charm around him was still working, his magic humming around him and his Firebolt, then sped down through the air. The wind whistled around him, making him whoop out in pure joy. It had been a long morning and he had been busy every minute.

Harry was of half of a mind to just up and quit, settle down to teach. He had enjoyed it immensely back in fifth year and at least he wouldn’t have idiots trying to curse or kill him. Maybe… he would even move to America, get an apartment in New York City to more easily visit Harvey. As it was, he did have a lot of his things in the other man’s penthouse apartment.

He ended up on the ground a few minutes later, walking over to the entrance of the building and tucked away his broom, removing the disillusionment charm on himself.

 

 


 

 

Donna spotted the unusual looking man as soon as the guy came around the corner. The man was tall, six feet and at least two inches, with long, wild black hair that went down to his shoulders and looked like it was hard to tame. As he walked closer to her desk, she could see that he had green eyes and a strangely shaped scar on his forehead. One that as he stopped before her desk, she could see it was shaped like a lightning bolt.

He was wearing black slacks and a dark green shirt, with a holster at his waist. Donna narrowed her eyes as she realized that there was no gun in that holster, just a thin piece of wood.

“May I help you?”   

“You would be Donna, right?”

Her eyes widened, grinning slightly at the man’s accent. It was low but definitely there. “British?”

“Born and raised there,” the man remarked, returning her grin and loosely crossing his arms. Not in a defensive posture but more… that he was utterly comfortable with himself and expected to be listened to.

“Who are you?”

“Uh, right. Harry Potter,” the man spoke idly, glancing up and behind her to Harvey’s office, which currently had no one in it. “Harvey texted me, said I was needed.”

“Right, Harvey did say something to me about you. You can wait here for him.”

Harry nodded and as Donna watched, he looked around the office.

“Are you a client?”

“Harry!”

Donna watched as Harry turned, his green eyes lighting up at seeing Harvey walk down the hallway.

“Hey,” Harry spoke, walking over to meet Harvey halfway. “What’s up?”

Donna’s eyes widened when Harvey’s brown eyes softened, one of his arms reaching out to tug Harry back down the hallway and down to the conference room.

“Trouble with a client’s kid. Your kind of trouble.”

“Oooh, my kind of trouble. Alright. What can I do?”

Harry fell into step with Harvey, glancing at the people who passed them as they walked. Many people, other lawyers, paralegals, and probably at least a few associates moved out of Harvey’s way as they walked and Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin. “Okay, what’s the deal?”

“One of my clients brought in their kid, a girl,” Harvey explained, steering Harry in the direction of the conference room. “They’re with Mike right now. They told me that their kid is showing abilities. How young does a kid need to be to start showing magic?”

“Kids start showing as young as three. You think the girl is a witch?”

“The parents are scared. They think she is-”

“What? Possessed?” Harry interrupted, narrowing his eyes. “Those movies… I swear. We are not possessed. Ah well, I’ll talk with them. What did you tell the parents about me?”

Harvey snorted. “I told them you were my consultant.”

“Not expert?”

“That too.”

“Harvey, who is this?”

“Jessica, this is the consultant I told you about,” Harvey said, gesturing to him.

Harry watched as Jessica Pearson walked over to them, stopping a few feet before him and Harvey. Jessica looked him over and Harry stayed still, raising an eyebrow.

“Harry Potter.”

He held out his hand and Jessica took it, her eyes narrowed in thought.

“What do you do?” Jessica questioned, looking briefly at Harvey before focusing on him.

“Law enforcement,” Harry offered idly.

Jessica blinked, turning to look at Harvey in askance.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Harvey remarked. “Mike is not the kind of criminal he pursues. He’s just here for my client’s kid. They’re having trouble with her.”

“What kind of trouble?” Jessica looked at Harry, her eyes lit with interest.

“She’s troubled,” Harvey said with a frown. “Harry’s here to look at her, offer his advice.”

“Ah. Well, make sure the client’s happy. We can’t have them going off to that new firm that opened up three blocks down.”

“What new firm?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He vaguely remembered the president telling him about their new office space that was… He grinned, knowing that whatever the building that Jessica was talking about said on the outside, it wasn’t a law firm on the inside.

“Exactly,” Jessica answered, glancing down at her watch. “I am off to a meeting with one of my clients, lunch. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Harry watched as Jessica walked past them, to where the elevators were. “I believe Minerva would like her.”

“Your former transfiguration professor?” Harvey confirmed, as he gestured Harry towards the conference room.

“Yeah, except… Maybe not. They could take over the world if they put their minds to it,” Harry replied idly.

“I would not doubt that.”

As soon as they reached the conference room, with Harvey stepping into the room first, Harry immediately knew that Harvey had been right. The seven year old girl sitting in a chair in the corner was a witch and was scared, hugging her knees into her chest.

There were four other adults in the room, plus who Harry figured to be Mike Ross. The other three were bickering, loudly, about how to take care of the kid, whether she was ill or special or evil. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he followed Harvey into the room, shutting the door behind him and warding the room within a second. He leaned against the wall, watching as Harvey walked over to stand next to Mike, who looked bewildered, unsure how to deal with their clients.

None of the adults stopped at the entrance and no one even spared a glance at him. Mike did then turned to Harvey and asked who he was.

Harry sighed, raised an eyebrow and Harvey nodded. This was his show now. Both Harvey and Mike would stand aside, let him explain to the clients. He watched them walk out through the door, shutting it behind them then Harry turned back to the parents.

He walked over to the head of the table, crossed his arms and spoke, staring pointedly at the three adults in front of him. Two women and one man, maybe the parents and the nanny, he supposed.

“Enough.”

The three adults stopped talking immediately, shocked into silence by the newcomer. They turned to stare at him, blinking in dismay, at the rigid steel in his voice, the voice that brokered no argument.

“Who-”

“You’re scaring your daughter,” Harry remarked quietly. At that the three adults looked sheepish, the mother-she looked like she was related to the kid- walked over to the girl and kneeled, whispering. “And no, she’s not ill, possessed, evil or anything else you think is wrong. She’s a witch.”

 

 


 

 

“Alright,” Harry said, stepping out through the door, seeing Harvey, Mike, and Donna talk between each other down the hall. It had taken an hour to talk the parents down, to convince them that he wasn’t lying, that their daughter was special, and that if they hurt her, they would have him to answer to. “They’re all yours again.”

“Should I reschedule your lunch meeting?” Donna asked as Harry walked over to them. He stopped beside Harvey, leaving not a lot of space between them, enough so that they could touch fingers if they wanted. “It was suppose to be at noon and it’s half past. The man isn’t even here and you have court in 30 minutes.”

Harvey turned to look at him, thinly veiled mischief in his brown eyes.

Harry snorted but shrugged.

“We can reschedule,” Harvey remarked. “As he’s right here.”

“I certainly don’t mind,” Harry offered bemusedly. “See you at home then?”

“You said you had a meeting with Lord Black,” Mike said, his eyes widening. “That’s you?”

“You put me under ‘Lord Black’?” Harry questioned, smiling in amusement. “You know I don’t like that title.”

“Reminds me of our first meeting,” Harvey replied, smiling.

 

 


 

 

Harvey walked over to the bar and sat down on the unoccupied stool closest to him, signaled the bartender over.

“What can I get you?” The woman asked, looking him over with blue, interested eyes.

“Scotch, please.”

Harvey turned around, looking the place over while his drink was made. It was a bit of an odd bar, one that he had found that was closer to the firm. In all the ten years he had worked at Pearson Hardman so far, he hadn’t found this one until today. The people in it were odd, some dressed in black robes while others were dressed normally. Maybe it was trivia night or something…

“Do you have a game night tonight?” Harvey asked, turning to look at the bartender as she handed his drink over.

The woman raised an eyebrow but shook her head, smiling a little. “No. Some of those people like cloaks, what can I say?”

Harvey snorted and turned back around, looking over at everyone. Music was playing through speakers in the bar but it was quiet enough to hear everyone talk amongst themselves. He heard quite a few people say that they were glad it was Friday and he wouldn’t admit this out loud but he was glad it was Friday too.

There was a boisterous group of people huddled in the back, talking loudly about sports results. About whose team won and whose team lost but Harvey didn’t really… recognize the teams. And it wasn’t baseball season either so it must have been something else. Everyone seemed to be comfortable, sitting and drinking, chatting about the week. No one was sitting in silence.

Then the door opened and a man stepped through, stopping on the mat to shake off the bits of snow on his head. Most, if not the entire bar, went silent, all of the people in black cloaks and robes turning to stare at the newcomer. The newcomer stared back, green eyes that seemed to be glowing and wild black hair with snowflakes in it, shucking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

The bartender had gone silent too and Harvey raised an eyebrow, wondering just who the man at the door was. The guy seemed to be a year or two younger than Harvey, 40 or so, tall and muscular, quite possibly built for speed, rather than brute force.

The newcomer, dressed in black slacks and a dark green shirt, narrowed his eyes. “Alright, people, nothing to see here. Go back to your drinks.”

Everyone immediately turned back around, returning to their drinks and conversations. Though some people did continue to stare at the man walked through the bar and over to where Harvey was sitting, sitting down on the bar stool next to him.

“What can I get for you, Harry?”

“The usual, thanks, Liz,” the man spoke, his British accent telling Harvey his origin.

“You’re new. You...” The guy trailed off, shrugging.

Harvey stared. “You someone important?”

The guy next to him turned, allowing Harvey to see the rather strange looking scar on his forehead. It looked like a lightning bolt, the old scar striking out in bolts, facing downward and Harvey idly wondered how the man had gotten it and how it felt, whether it would be a raised scar or level with the skin.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“You want the long version or the short version?”

Harvey snorted. “Short, please.”

“Saved the world,” the man spoke, his lips twitching up into a weary grin. The bartender handed over the man’s drink and the guy took it, taking a sip right away and sighing. “Oh, Merlin. This is good. Harry Potter.”

“Harvey Specter. That’s such a broad statement for a Brit.”

The guy… Harry... grinned mischievously. “The rest is classified so I’m not going apologize for it.”

“Again, very vague,” Harvey remarked, moving so that his whole body was leaning towards Harry. “Military?”

“More or less,” Harry answered, mirroring Harvey in that he turned towards him, taking a small sip of his drink. “Retired when I was 25.”

“‘Retired’? You ‘retired’ when you were 25?”

“From what was more or less the military, yes,” Harry said, a teasing undercurrent to his voice. “You?”

“Closer.”

“As in… lawyer?”

“Yep.”

“Figures,” Harry commented, gesturing to Harvey. His green eyes narrowed before he licked his lips. “That suit… You at one of the top firms here?”

“Are you saying you think I’m hot?” Harvey questioned, his breath hitching, at the naked desire in the man’s eyes.

“Maybe…”

“‘Maybe’? I think I should take offense at that,” Harvey retorted.

“Yeah?”

“Excuse me?”

Harry turned on his stool, seeing a young woman standing anxiously before him. She was holding out a pad and pen towards him, smiling hesitantly.

“Autograph?” Harry confirmed.

She nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind. I wouldn’t even have dreamed of meeting you here! My son will be so excited!”

“People ask you for autographs?” Harvey asked, watching as Harry reached out for both pad and paper.

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Nick. Make it out to Nick.”

Harry scribbled out something and Harvey peered over at his writing. It was messy, not neat at all. His name and a small encouraging message before Harry handed it back to the woman.

“Thank you so much!”

“Your welcome,” Harry replied, watching as the woman turned to go then turning back to Harvey. “Yeah, autographs are a thing with me.”

“Who are you? A movie actor?” Harvey tried, bewildered for the first time in months. He did think he would have recognized Harry’s name before if the guy was an actor but he hadn’t. It was a welcome challenge for him, taking his mind off of work, off of the annoying case that he was working on.

Harry smiled and shook his head. “No, you’re not even hot.”

“Oh, I’m not hot? You just said I was earlier.”

“I meant hot as in hot or cold,” Harry said, rolling his eyes in bemusement, taking another sip of his drink. “We’ve already established that I think you’re attractive. If you want to play 20 questions, go right ahead.”

 

 


 

 

“I still had four questions,” Harvey muttered, as they exited the elevator on his floor and stepped into his penthouse apartment. Harry followed closely, tugging his coat off, and placing it on the coat rack idly, like they weren’t just in the middle of making out like teenagers.

“Just consider everything classified,” Harry retorted, smirking a little and pulling Harvey in further for another kiss. Another warm, wet, kiss that sent little sparks of pleasure spiraling through his body and down to the base of his spine.

“Or we could continue to go out and I could tease the details out of you,” Harvey argued, his voice trailing off on a moan as Harry slid his fingers to his waist and slipped under his suit jacket, touching skin.

“You could try,” Harry whispered heatedly, bemusedly, his voice husky, shrugging and placing his other hand in the center of Harvey’s chest. “Bed?”

“That way,” Harvey spoke, gesturing behind them while starting to take off his suit. Harry nodded, nudging him backward, not pulling away at all while Harvey took off his vest, leaving him in his white shirt and slacks.

“That is much too much clothing,” Harry remarked, glancing at the downed vest, suit coat.

“Says the person that still has his shirt on,” Harvey retorted. “Off.”

Harry obliged, shucking off his shirt, and for a moment, Harvey just stared. There were multiple scars all over Harry’s chest, one muted red on his left shoulder, one bright red, purplish scar on his upper chest, right above a nipple. Another dull orange jagged scar on his hip, to which Harvey reached out to touch, feeling the raised skin of the scar.

“What the fuck do you do?” Harvey questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I had a varied career when I went to school,” Harry offered, his fingers making distracting circles on Harvey’s skin. “Got me into trouble occasionally.”

“Trouble?”

“Yes.” Harry grinned, walking Harvey back to the foot of the bed, which just happened to be in view of the door. Harvey sat down as Harry walked right into the space between his legs.

“You aren’t in trouble, are you?” Harvey asked as Harry leaned down to kiss him, just a brush of lips that sent sparks of heat throughout his body.

“Nope. I’m good.”

 


 

 

Harvey woke up the next morning, satisfied and sleepy, yawning as he blinked his eyes open. There was a warm body behind him, an arm thrown across his waist. There was an insistent noise coming from somewhere in his penthouse but he was too lazy to get up and see what it was. It almost sounded like a woodpecker pecking wood but there was no wood in his apartment or on his balcony. He could feel Harry breathing behind him, hear his breathing hitch, then the man behind him moved, a sleepy groan coming out of his throat.

He felt as Harry moved, removing his arm, and swinging his legs off the bed. The noise was now annoying but since Harry was getting up, moving farther away from, he just tugged a pillow over and burrowed back into the blankets. Harry stopped moving then Harvey felt lips against his neck, making him shiver, his heart skipping a beat at the intimate gesture, before he felt, heard, Harry move off the bed.

Assuming Harry had gone to use the bathroom, Harvey stayed where he was, so thankful it was a Saturday morning. He dozed for a few more minutes, staying in that hazy still asleep but beginning to be aware place, before yawning and sitting up, hearing the balcony door open.

He slowly, stretching as he moved, swung his legs off the bed, slipped on an old pair of sweats, and padded into the living room, looking for the man he had brought home last night. When Harvey spotted him, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. Harry was pacing on the balcony, shirtless but with soft looking red sweats on. And an owl on his left shoulder, peering onto the piece of parchment Harry was holding in his hands.

The balcony door was open, letting the slight morning breeze in. Harvey could hear Harry muttering under his breath, something about idiot… minions? Harvey snorted, drawing Harry’s attention. He watched as Harry turned around to face him, the owl staying put on the man’s shoulder.

“There something I should know?” Harvey asked, walking over to the doorway to the balcony and leaning against the door, crossing his arms. “Are you a Disney princess in disguise?”

“Not quite,” Harry answered, his lips twitching up into a bemused grin. “I am a Lord though if that counts. Not that I really put much stock into that title but it does make it easy to lobby my colleagues.”

“What’s with the owl then?”

“He needs payment, is what,” Harry replied, studying Harvey for a minute before shrugging and flicking a finger.

Harvey blinked, looked between Harry and the owl and was about to ask something else, maybe what the hell was going on when a bag came zooming past him to land in Harry’s hands. He watched as the other man reached in, drew out a few coins and dropped them in the little pouch attached to one of the owl’s legs. The owl chirped, sounding aggrieved then took off, right from Harry’s shoulder.

“Right…” Harry trailed off, turning to face Harvey once again. His green eyes were wary but still faintly amused by something. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can. Why don’t we have breakfast while you talk?” Harvey offered.

“Sounds good,” Harry agreed, running a hand through hair before rocking back on his heels. “And perhaps a round two while we’re at it…”

Harvey grinned. “So cocky.”

“You’ve been staring at me ever since we got up, Harvey,” Harry retorted bemusedly. “You haven’t run screaming either.”

“Oh, please. That response is beneath me.”

Chapter Text

We will grant you peace, young one.

Harry peered up at the night sky from where he was, sitting on the grassy lawn right in front of Hogwarts. His back was right up against a tree, breathing hard, and his muscles tired. His magic was all but depleted, after having killed Voldemort. After today, he just wanted to sleep for a week. “Who…”

We are gods from another universe. The men there call us the Old Ones and we would like to help you. We can settle the creature inside you, the wolf. We can also bring back your companion.

Harry’s eyes widened as he saw a sphere of white light hover over him, the light soft and almost… worried? “How do I know that you’re… really who you say you are? Besides, another universe? What’s that about? And bring back Hedwig? Is that… Really?”

You are a werewolf, are you not?

“Yes…” Harry trailed off as the white light took on a form, roughly like a human being, but not really. It… looked really ethereal, glowing, as it formed eyes. He watched, wearily, as it took a step towards him then reached out, placing a finger on his forehead, right where his scar was. Foreign power flew through him and he could hear loud, powerful howling, as if from a distance. The wolf inside him howled too, joining with the ghostly howl.

He had been bitten by Greyback two months before the final battle, bitten at age 19. The war had gone on longer than they had expected but they… he had finally killed Voldemort. But as the power, whatever it was, ran through him, something inside him settled, merging with the wolf on a level that he suspected that hadn’t happened to Remus.

“What… what did you do?”

You will be able to shift whenever you wish to now. Your form will be a wolf, a direwolf. The alpha.

Harry glanced down at himself, watching as if from a distance, as the glow disappeared, vanishing back to the entity in front of him. “What do you want in exchange? Surely you want something?”

The white glowing form shook its head.

We don’t want anything. If you wish it however, we can transport you somewhere where you won’t have to be the Boy-Who-Lived. You can be yourself. Hedwig will join you there.

Harry crossed his arms, glanced over to Hogwarts, to where Ron and Hermione were standing next to each other. They were both holding each other up, leaning against each other. “What if I said no?”

We would not bother you again.

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

The form almost seemed sheepish, shaking a little.

We were only called to you by your grief and the animal within. In our world, wolves have packs. The Starks, they are called.

“I wouldn’t have to serve them, right? I’m tired of it. I just…”

What?

“I want to settle down, maybe find the right person. Someone like me, perhaps.”

The world that we are from is ancient. They live in a world with long seasons. You… We would talk with our children to see if they would be able to help you with having children.

“Who says I would have trouble having children?”

You prefer other boys?

“Yes… What does that have to do with having trouble. Here-

The white, glowing form wavered, waving a hand over him.

Our children will help. If you choose to come to our world, the children will assist you in growing a family.

Harry let out a strangled growl, the wolf coming to the fore more than a little. “Is magic done in your world?”

Of a kind.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

His trunk materialized beside him and he slowly reached out an arm, opened the top most section, his eyes widening. “What did you do?”

Provided you with the money from all of your vaults and your belongings. You are coming.

“I didn’t say yes! I don’t like decisions being made for me!”

The white form shook then stilled, dipping its head in a small bow, apparently waiting for him to decide.

Harry sighed, thinking about what his future would bring if he stayed. Those bloody reporters would probably hound him day and night. And with his changed status, being a werewolf, he didn’t know what would happen. He just… He just wanted peace. “Why is Gryffindor’s sword here too?”

You would need it.

“Gee, that’s specific.”

“Yes,” Harry finally said. “With the condition that you tell my friends how to reach me, if they want.”

 

 


 

 

Six months later and a universe away, Robb Stark heard two of his bannermen call out to him through the tent wall.

“Come in,” Robb spoke, reaching down to pet Grey Wind as the wolf started to growl.

Ser Rodrik came in, followed by three of his bannermen and one… A man, Robb’s age, stood between the bannermen. The young man had shoulder length wild, black hair and the greenest eyes that he had ever seen. He was wearing a green cloak and strange looking armor that seemed to bend with his movements. Robb could also see that there was a scar on the man’s forehead, one that looked like one of the thunder bolts that struck the ground during a summer storm.

And… there was a white eagle on his left shoulder, tall and beautiful.

“Another spy?”

“No, my lord,” Ser Rodrik reported. “He is the man that merged with us at the Whispering Wood. We found him riding back north.”

Robb stood up, peering down at Grey Wind again as the wolf continued to growl. The eagle on the man’s chest mantled, one of its wings curling around the man’s neck.

“What is your name?” Robb asked, raising an eyebrow. “And why did you aid us?”

The young man blinked but nodded. “My name is Harry, well Harlan, Potter. Your second question is simple. I live in the north. I was just… curious so I had come down past the Twins to find where you had gone. I was heading home when your men found me.”

“Potter? I do not know of House Potter,” Robb remarked. “Is that a house of Essos?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Harry said, crossing his arms and studying Robb with intent. “Hedwig, you’re scaring the wolf. Stop.”

“Hmm?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Forgive the bird, my lord. She’s twitchy but she… most likely smells of predator to your direwolf.”

“Smells of predator?” Robb repeated, more than a little curious about the man. His outriders had seen him on the way to relieve Riverrun and just as Robb and his forces were crashing into the Lannister bannermen, the man had joined them.

“She smells like predator to me to,” Harry spoke idly. “But since we’re friends…”

“Smells.”

“I’m… not like most people,” Harry offered. “I’m dangerous and so is she.”

“So my men say,” Robb said, eying the eagle with respect. “Some of the men said they saw her scrape her talons on some Lannister soldiers.”

Harry grinned, a hint of… something in his green eyes that Robb couldn’t distinguish. Robb’s heart started to beat quicker at the look in the other man’s eyes, half predatory and all lit with interest. The kind of interest that usually proceeded a man taking a woman to bed. “She can do more than that but she and I thought that this form wouldn’t scare people. Now, if there is nothing more, can I be going?”

“This… form?” Robb again repeated. “What exactly is that suppose to mean?”

“It means…” Harry trailed off, as they both heard the eagle start to… cough. That was what Robb thought it was doing until he saw something that he couldn’t… didn’t understand. Smoke came out of the eagle’s beak, trailing away and dissipating. “It means exactly that.”

Robb stared, his heart stopping in his chest before beating ever so quickly. Grey Wind growled, taking a step towards Harry then froze as the man reached out a hand.

“Wait…” Robb trailed off as Harry kneeled, the eagle flying off his shoulder to land on his desk. Grey Wind peered up at the man, his growl tapering off into a confused whine. Robb watched as Harry’s eyes lit up with awe as Grey Wind took another step towards him, meeting Harry’s outstretched hand with his nose.

“What’s his name?” Harry whispered, looking up at Robb before reaching over to stroke Grey Wind’s fur.

“Grey Wind. I know it’s-”

“He’s beautiful,” Harry interrupted then his eyes widened. “I apologize, my lord. I did not mean to interrupt you but he is beautiful.”

Robb sighed, the adrenaline of battle just now leaving him. His body shook underneath his armor and the sight of men cutting down other men had left him shaken and weary. “You are forgiven. Are you really planning on returning north?”

Harry eyed him, standing up with one last pat to Grey Wind’s head. “What are you asking?”

“We could use you,” Robb spoke, glancing to where Ser Rodrik had left to go stand outside the tent. “I was told you helped drive the Lannisters back. You are a capable fighter, that much I heard.”

Robb watched as Harry stared at him, green eyes narrowed in thought. It was silent for a few minutes but for the sounds of a camp being set up outside. His own bannermen were settling down around him while the other bannermen, the Freys, the Manderlys, the Karstarks were further out.

“Do you have a squire?” Harry asked softly. “Someone to help you after battle and before? Someone to make sure you eat and drink? Someone to guard your back?”

Robb shook his head, feeling his cheeks redden a little. At Harry’s question, his stomach growled. “I took one of the Frey men to be my squire.”

“Right…” Harry trailed off. “Well, there’s no limit to however many squires you have. You can count me in, my lord.”

Chapter Text

His parents were dead. Dead. Tony stared at the reporter that had told him the news, feeling the color drain from his face, feeling his knees start to shake.

“Mr Stark, any comment?”

“Mr Stark, how do you feel? Who’s going to run Stark Industries now?”

Tony blinked, wishing… His stomach roiled and he heard what could have been a quiet whimper and realized after a minute that it had been him. That noise had come from his mouth, his throat.

“Mr Stark?! Did you hear me?”

“Mr Stark, who’s your current girl? She hot?”

He stared at the mass of reporters that had been standing outside his classroom. He had to get through them to get over to his dorm building. But he couldn’t make his feet move. He couldn’t move… He heard a slight ringing in his ears until it drowned out everything else as he watched the reporters lips move in front of him. He sucked in tight, shallow breaths, trying to catch a breath, trying…

“Ladies, gentlemen, I’m going to have to ask you to move. Mr Stark has no comment at the moment.”

An arm went around his waist, familiar and grounding.

“Harry…”

“Tony, I’m here,” Harry whispered, his fingers carefully, steadily slipping in under Tony’s shirt. Tony leaned into the other man as Harry’s fingers started to rub soothing circles on his skin and Tony didn’t even think about having sex at this point. “Let me deal with the reporters, okay?”

Tony nodded, finally able to breathe, as Harry slowly removed his arm and stepped around in front of him.

“I need you guys to leave right now,” Harry spoke, his voice steady and firm, with a hint of steel underneath. “Now or I will call the police.”

Some of the reporters tried to argue with him. Tony could see the muscles on Harry’s back flex through the shirt he was wearing. The trees behind the reporters started to shake, the limbs moving in a nonexistent breeze.

“But-”

“I said now,” Harry ordered. “You can contact Stark Industries for a comment.”

With what seemed like a group sigh, each reporter left, with one last look to Tony. When the last one was gone, the trees stopped moving, slowly returning to their previous state. Tony sucked in a tight breath, feeling tears start to pool in his eyes as he finally registered that his parents were dead. He didn’t know what to think about his father being dead, didn’t even begin to think about it. But his mother? He…

His knees buckled and just as he was about to hit the ground, Harry caught him, wrapping both arms around him and eased him down to the ground.

“Oh, Tony,” Harry whispered, peering at him in worry. “I’m sorry.”

“I… How…”

“Car accident, apparently,” Harry spoke, his green eyes soft and slightly glowing. “Do you want to go to the hospital to look?”

Tony shook his head, buried his face in Harry’s shoulder, feeling one of Harry’s hands move up to cup his neck. He shivered and tried to burrow deeper, wanting to disappear, knowing that Harry would hide them from view automatically.




 

 

Harry glanced down at the sheet of paper, the one that said who his roommate would be. One Tony Stark, age 16. Harry shrugged and nudged open the door to the room, having already made sure that no magic paraphernalia was showing. He had agreed to room with a muggle, or he supposed, he hadn’t said no. MIT had one muggle side and one magical side, with the most famous and knowledgeable teachers on both sides.

He was mainly attending to learn more about everything though it wasn’t like he didn’t know quite a bit already. He just wanted to round out his learning, see how the Americans did it. When he took in what lay in the room, he stopped, his eyes widening.

There were already tools everywhere, with a bucket of oil grease in the far left corner. There was… Harry tilted his head in confusion, his eyes roving over what looked like… “What is that?”

“Dum-E.”

Harry turned, closed the door behind him and peered over at the desk on the left side of the room. A… teenager sat in the chair. Well, it was what the form had said. 16 year old Tony Stark. And here he was, 18 years old and deciding to take a year off between choosing a career after the war.

“Dum-E? What’s that?”

The young man turned, showing off bright brown eyes and dark hair. “It’s that. The claw but it’s a work in progress. Stupid electronics here aren’t as good as the ones I have back home. Why are you here?”

Harry grinned a little, placing his duffel on the bed on the right side of the room. It was just like the Gryffindor common room, except much smaller. Though he had the thought that in most university dorm rooms, the rooms themselves were much smaller. MIT was prestigious and big. “I’m your roommate? I’m Harry Potter.”

“Oh. You’re not paid to be here, right?”

“No? I definitely would… Well, actually I think MIT kind of paid me to be here,” Harry remarked thoughtfully, sitting down on the mattress that the university provided. The university actually had paid him to be here, the staff and faculty wanting to meet him.“But no one else has paid me to be here.”

“Good. So you haven’t met my dad.”

Tony turned around, focused on the computer parts in front of him then twirled back around on his chair with wheels. “You weren’t paid by my dad to watch me, right?”

“I think I would have remembered getting paid by someone to watch over you,” Harry said. “Are you someone… special?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed then he nodded. “Not particularly.”

 


 

 

Tony watched as Harry appeared a few feet from him, having gotten back from London. He was standing in front of the place where his mansion in Malibu was being built, the construction workers walking back and forth in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

Harry was apparently so deep in thought that he didn’t hear him until he walked into a nearby tree. He yelped and Tony laughed, going over to make sure he was okay. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry grimaced, held up a finger, reached into his messenger bag and pulled out some cream. “Ministry is trying to force me back to England. They think I’m getting too fond of the United States.”

Tony watched as Harry spread the cream over his bare foot then rolled his eyes. “Again?”

“Again,” Harry confirmed, sighing and putting the cream away when he was done. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a really good lawyer?”

“Harry.”

Harry stood up, his green eyes focusing on Tony intently.

“Who do you think I am?” Tony exclaimed.

“My boyfriend,” Harry remarked, his eyes alight with mischief.

Tony felt his cheeks redden.

“The person I like to have sex with,” Harry continued, his lips moving into a grin.

“Well, I can’t fault you for that,” Tony retorted. “I am awesome at sex!”

“That you are,” Harry agreed. “Speaking of which, is that almost done?”

Tony turned to where Harry was gesturing to, behind them at the mansion that was being built. They were in Malibu and Tony was building his own place, having just graduated from MIT.  “Almost. Just another week and we can cut the ribbon.”

“You mean have sex everywhere.”

“Ah, potato, patato,” Tony said, grinning widely.




 

 

“Tony! Is something-”

Harry winced at Tony’s expression, his shoulders curling inward and his eyes dull. Harry couldn’t really see the rest of him as he was in the dark, the bulb in the front of the room out.“Your father?”

“He didn’t even talk to me,” Tony whispered. “Didn’t even acknowledge that he had come for me, just schmoozed with the professors.”

Harry used some magic to close the door behind Tony without even moving and closed the distance between them. “Tony, sweetheart.”

Tony didn’t even react to the nickname, just stepped over towards his desk and the light. Harry stiffened at seeing the hand-shaped bruise on Tony’s cheek, his heart stopping.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” Tony muttered. “See you later?”

“Tony…” Harry trailed off, summoned the bruise cream out of his desk and walked over to stand in front of Tony, looked him over. He slowly reached out, his hand grasping Tony’s and tugged him over to his bed, nudging him onto it. “Did he hit you?”

Tony peered down at him, his brown eyes dazed but mostly heartbroken, tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m never good enough for him!”

Harry swept some of the bruise cream onto his fingers and reached out, making sure Tony saw him move and gently spread some on his bruise. Tony leaned into his palm, his breath hitching and his body shuddering. “You’re never going to be good enough for him, Tony.”

Tony stilled, eyes narrowing. “Harry…”

“Let me finish?”

Tony stared at him but nodded.

“But you’re good enough for me,” Harry continued softly. “You’re good enough for your mother. You’re good enough for Rhodey. You’re good enough for Jarvis. Hell, your Aunt Peggy loves you. Your mother loves you.”

“Aunt Peggy’s awesome,” Tony muttered.

“We agree on that,” Harry confirmed, smiling a little.

“And we agree that your aunt was awful,” Tony added, crossing his arms.

“That too,” Harry said.

 




“Hey, kiddo,” Harry said, scooping up Rose and swinging her around. Hugo ran over to him too, peering up at his sister. Teddy followed too, eyes wide with awe.

Tony grinned, watching as Harry’s friend Hermione and her husband Ron walked around the living room. Harry had gone with casual dress to welcome his friends, wearing a light green shirt and jeans whereas Tony had just come from a business meeting. Obi had called him in to discuss the most recent invention.

“Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Humble?” Hermione questioned, wrinkling her nose.

“We made sure it checked out environmentally speaking, Hermione,” Harry called over, letting Rose down. “In fact, I used a few thousand dollars to buy a big portion of the land around here and made it a nature reserve, including the waters a hundred miles in either direction.”

“I made sure to include solar panels too,” Tony added, walking over to the wall and fiddling with one of Jarvis’ interface panels.

“Sir?” Jarvis asked.

“Order a few pizzas for us, Jarvis,” Tony spoke. “Enough for the kids.”

“Enough for us too,” Harry spoke, walking over to wrap an arm around him. “I’m hungry too.”

“Your business with MACUSA go over well?” Tony asked, peering over at the three kids. He had already met Teddy, Harry’s godson, who had taken a liking to Tony’s workshop through the windows. Harry had had Jarvis keep Teddy out, knowing what Tony preferred.

“As well as could be,” Harry replied. “They needed help with a dragon on the way out.”

“A dragon?”

“Yeah and it turned out to be Norberta. Small world.”

Tony’s eyes widened as he turned towards Harry. “Norberta, as in the dragon you watched hatch in your first year?”

Harry nodded, his mouth tightening a little then his shoulders dropped, relaxing. “She was happy to see me.”

“Happy to see you? The fuck does that mean?”

“It means that she was glad to see me,” Harry retorted, shivered briefly. “I never want to see a dragon mate ever, ever again. Jarvis, make a note.”

“Of course, Harry.”

Tony laughed.

“Mr Stark?”

“Oh, Pepper! Good thing you’re here,” Tony exclaimed, looking over to the front hall. His assistant walked through the hall, coming over to the living room, and looked over the house, her eyes stopping on the floor to ceiling windows that made up the wall that was next to the cliff. “You can meet Harry’s friends.”

“How are you doing, Pepper?” Harry asked, grinning as he let Rose down.

“I’m very good. Thank you, Harry,” Pepper remarked, her eyes lit with excitement and a little hint of longing as she watched the kids. “Which one’s your godson?”

“That one,” Harry said, pointing at Teddy, whose hair was currently Pepper’s shade of red. “Teddy Lupin. He likes to change his hair to whoever he meets at the time.”

“He’s adorable,” Pepper spoke. “And is this Hermione?”

Hermione walked over from glancing down the stairs to where Tony’s workshop and garage were and held out her hand. “Yes, I’m Hermione Weasley, mother to these rascals. You’re Pepper Potts?”

“Yes. I’m usually Tony’s assistant,” Pepper explained. “Except when Harry says he can handle him.”

“Which is always,” Harry muttered.

Tony’s lips turned down and he draped himself over Harry. “I’m not too much of a burden, right? Right?”

“No,” Harry whispered quietly enough that so only Tony would hear him, wrapping his arms around Tony in return, his fingers finding their way to the back of Tony’s neck. “You’re not and never will be a burden, got it? You’re not gonna ditch me that easily.”

Tony shivered at the undercurrent in Harry’s tone, hearing the possessiveness and protectiveness in the words. When Tony finally pulled apart, Hermione and Pepper were both looking at them, their eyes soft.

“Yeah, well, you’re a burden,” Tony muttered.

Harry snorted. “Yeah, the press love us. You can’t break up with me.”

“Oh, I can’t?” Tony asked, his eyes going wide with glee. “I’m going to go leak some details about your sordid past.”

“Tony, we said no blackmail,” Harry retorted, crossing his arms bemusedly. “Besides, what sordid details? I saved the world, remember?”

“I’m sure I can think of something,” Tony commented. “That one time, you didn’t do the laundry when we were at MIT. It was awful.”

“I’m sure,” Harry replied, his words laced with sarcasm.

“Are they always like this?” Hermione whispered, glancing to Pepper.

“Yes.”




 

 

Harry pulled Tony into a kiss, watching as the other man’s eyes slowly went wide with arousal.

Tony whined into it, trying to arch closer towards Harry. “Fuck! The fuck did you make us wait for?”

Harry snorted, wrapping his arms around Tony and yanking his shirt up. Tony helped, raising his arms up so that Harry could pull the shirt off easily. “I made us wait because you wanted to graduate early. Or to be more specific, you made us wait.”

“Stupid reason,” Tony muttered.

Harry rolled his eyes, digging his thumbs into Tony’s waist and kissing him again, deepening it, licking into Tony’s mouth. “Hey, I was respecting your reason.”

Tony whined and pulled Harry over towards his bed. “Shirt off…”

Harry grinned then tugged off his own shirt, following Tony over and pushing him down on the bed. The mattress was small but with the right spell or two… “Yeah, that’s more like it. Come here.”

Tony grinned, breathing hard already. Harry watched him reach up to trace his scars, fingers hovering over the burn scar that he had gotten from the first task in his fourth year. “You’re hot.”

Harry groaned and gently pushed Tony down onto the mattress, kissing a line up his throat and placing a biting kiss on the crook between his neck and shoulder. Tony bucked up into his hand, whimpered, as Harry’s fingers traced his chest, flicking a nipple. “That’s the worst pun I’ve heard in the history of puns. You can do better than that.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, feeling sweat roll down his back and forehead, when Harry leaned down to lick the same nipple. Heat coiled in his body, at the base of his spine, as Harry’s hands slowly ventured lower, unbuckling his belt and taking off his pants. Harry’s pants were already gone, probably having been banished minutes earlier. His cock hardened at the touch and he tugged Harry up into a kiss, as one of Harry’s hands circled his cock.

“Fuck,” Tony hissed, trying to arch up into the hand holding him but Harry’s other hand pinned him, placing some weight on his chest. Harry grinned, stroking him slowly enough that it was maddening, pre-cum already leaking from his cock and he whined in surprise as he felt the hand stroking his cock disappear. “Harry? Get with the program.”

“I am,” Harry whispered, his green eyes wide with arousal and just a little amusement then muttered something under his breath, a spell that Tony hadn’t heard yet. A finger, wet, breached him and Tony arched up, almost like he had been struck by lightning, sparks of pleasure racing through him. “Oh, Tony.”

Tony looked up at Harry, trying to keep his eyes open, focused on Harry, as the finger inside him crooked and hit the spot. He whimpered as at the same time, Harry’s other hand lightly stroked his cock, too much sensation at once, pleasure coiling and racing through him to his release. Harry stroked him through it, adding another finger and looking at him with… Tony shied away as he breathed through his orgasm, bucking into Harry’s fingers, leaning into the sensation.

“You ready?” Harry murmured, watching him. They both were breathing heavily but only Tony had come and he nodded, pleasure still arching through him, his toes curling with it. The fingers in his hole disappeared and Tony wrapped his arms around Harry, just to make sure he didn’t leave, his nails digging into Harry’s back.

Harry slid a pillow underneath Tony’s hips, lifting him up, then slid in, stretching him and Tony sighed into it. Harry’s arms bracketed him as he leaned into kiss him again and Tony grinned into it, reached up to yank Harry back into a kiss as soon as he pulled away. Harry groaned as he settled in and began to move, Tony clenching more than a little, knowing that Harry wasn’t far off.

“Move, Merlin,” Tony muttered, flicking Harry on the forehead, right on his scar. Tony’s cock had already started to harden again, matching how full he felt.

Harry rolled his eyes and slowly slid out a little only to fall back in, not hesitating at all as Tony whined, squirming around a little to get closer, feel more. Harry whined, increasing his pace, his speed, as they moved together, and when Tony crossed his legs around Harry’s waist and pulled him in tighter, that sent Harry over the edge. Harry fell back against the mattress, laying beside Tony as they breathed, pleasure roiling through both their bodies.




 

 

“Tony?”

“Don’t you want to watch the Jericho’s debut?” Tony questioned, looking across the plane aisle to where Rhodey was talking to the Air Force general. Harry was sitting next to him, reading through a recent report from MACUSA. Something about a secret government organization and not the magical kind.

They were going to an undisclosed location in Afghanistan to present Tony’s new weapon. Harry wasn’t exactly enthused about it but he wanted to be sure that Tony would be okay.

“Tony, I said I would come,” Harry retorted, glancing up at Tony. “Besides, I can talk with the local aurors, see about offering my assistance, if they need it.”

Tony stared at him, blinked. “Anything I can help with?”

“No? I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Too dangerous.”






Harry gasped to wakefulness, blinking his eyes open. He felt someone push him down onto a mattress, hearing the locals speak hurriedly and quietly. “What-”

Pain flared all over his body and he could distinctly feel his organs loose in his body. His stomach threatened to make an appearance… outside his body then he felt the magic of a spell coat him, sending him back to sleep.

 




“You have family, Stark?” Yinsen asked, as they worked on building the suit of armor that Tony would use to get out.

Tony blinked, looking up from the power cutter. His heart ached, flashes of his boyfriend flowing through his mind. Harry happy to see him. Harry taking care of him after his dad hit him. Harry giving him an awesome blowjob. Harry quietly steering him past reporters. Their picture in the newspapers as they went out to dinner at an expensive restaurant.

“Yeah. A… boyfriend,” Tony replied, aching at the thought that he might not see him ever again if he didn’t get out of here. “I… I had a fight with him before… before.”

Yinsen’s eyes widened only a little at the mention of Tony having a boyfriend then he grinned. “Good. You have more motivation. That’s good.”

“Good that we had a fight?!”

“No. Good that you have someone to go home to,” Yinsen answered.

It was quiet for a few more minutes, with the only sound being the machinery they were using.

“He was injured,” Tony exclaimed, his heart speeding up. “Yinsen, what if he’s dead?! I’ll never see him again! I’ll never apologize!”

He tried to suck in air, his vision graying out before hands came to his shoulders.

“Stark, calm down. If he was injured, he’ll probably have been found by the soldiers that were sent to the site,” Yinsen said. “He’s fine.”

“You don’t know that. He...” Tony trailed off as he remembered the last thing he saw of Harry. His boyfriend had been lying on the dirt a few feet from him, his chest all the way open, bones sticking out of his legs, and… “Oh god!”

“Stark. He is okay.”

“I could see his heart,” Tony hissed, pointing to the new arc reactor in his chest with one hand and holding the power torch with the other. Yinsen hurriedly reached out, turned the torch off. “Yinsen, I could see his heart. That’s never good!”

“Build this,” Yinsen ordered. “And then see him. Live for him.”




 

 

“I think I’m in love with him, Yinsen,” Tony whispered, as Yinsen put together the suit.

Yinsen raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

“I… I’ve never felt this way towards someone else,” Tony muttered, pointing to the right wire as Yinsen brought two up.




 

 

Two months later, Tony rocketed out of the Ten Ring’s lair, his suit of armor keeping together mostly. He landed on a hill of sand a few miles away, looked around, breathing heavily. He licked his lips, wishing that Harry was here, wishing that he knew what had happened to his boyfriend, and then got up, walking in the direction of what was hopefully civilization.

He walked and walked until he felt the distinctive, familiar magic poke his toes. Tony startled a little, knocked out of his hazy, exhausted walk and peered down at the sand, where Harry’s magic had come from, blinking dazedly. Harry might have cast a spell but… it wasn’t one that Tony was familiar with. But he waited, staying in place until he heard the rotating blades of a chopper.

And Harry yelling out, flying right next to the helicopter on his broom. Tony’s eyes widened, his knees buckling, as he took in his boyfriend’s appearance. Harry was worn thin, his green eyes lit up as he sped towards Tony, coming into land a few feet away.

“Hey, Merlin,” Tony sputtered out as Harry stopped, shuddered then ran right over to him, catching him up in his arms.  

“Hey, Tony,” Harry whispered, tightening his arms when Tony flinched and burrowed into Harry. “Oh god, I thought you were dead!”

“I thought you were dead,” Tony said frantically, his eyes widening. He pulled away a little, gesturing at him. “I saw your heart!”

“What part of being a wizard don’t you understand?” Harry muttered, poking him in the chest, only hovering when he saw the arc reactor. “Tony… I thought you were dead…”

“I’m not?”

Harry glared at him, only pulling him back in, his mouth very close to Tony’s ear. “I love you, Anthony Stark.”




 

 

TONY STARK FOUND ALIVE! - “The NY Times”

 

TONY STARK ALIVE, STARK INDUSTRIES STOCK SOAR - “The Wall Street Journal”

 

TONY STARK RESCUED BY BOYFRIEND, HARRY POTTER - “People Magazine”

  • Air Force says, “We had a hand in it too!”

STARK AND POTTER GIVE FIRST INTERVIEWS - “People Magazine”

  • “They’re SO CUTE TOGETHER!” says one fan

STARK AND POTTER TRENDING ON INTERNET

STARK SHUTS DOWN WEAPON DEVELOPMENT - “The NY Times”

  • Potter quoted saying, “He didn’t have to go that far to say that he loves me.”

WHO IS HARRY POTTER: STARK AND POTTER’S HISTORY - “Time”

 

STARK INDUSTRIES STOCK PLUMMETS - “The Wall Street Journal”

 

TONY STARK AND HARRY POTTER ATTEND FIREFIGHTER BALL - “The Los Angeles Times”

 

OBEDIAH STANE ARRESTED - “The Washington Post”

  • Arrested for 2 counts of attempted murder, embezzling



STANE BREAKS OUT OF PRISON, GOES BERSERK - “The Wall Street Journal”

 

‘I AM IRON MAN’ - “The New York Times”  



“No comment,” Stark says, on the number of fanclubs springing up for the two of them with pages on Facebook.

“Except you can’t have him,” Potter adds, wrapping his arm around Stark’s waist.

 

Chapter Text

Ned watched as the two princes walked amongst the people, saying hi occasionally and stopping to talk with a lord or two. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the silver prince. Prince Haerys Targaryen, the witchborn dragon some said. The two princes looked alike in some ways but even from afar, Ned could tell the difference between the two.

Prince Rhaegar walked like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders, only laughing when his brother whispered something to him. Prince Haerys… He walked like he was old and young at the same time. Haerys strolled through the people, through the tents, like he was intent on something. Mayhap it was the pretty scent of an omega or beta.

Everyone knew that Prince Haerys was an alpha and everyone knew that King Aerys wanted him as the heir. Prince Rhaegar was just a beta but for all Ned knew and heard, Prince Haerys wanted nothing to do with the throne. So Prince Rhaegar stayed the heir, marrying Princess Elia Martell. Prince Haerys was not mated to anyone and everyone from the Lannister girl to the Tyrells wanted the prince for their own daughter.

“You look like you’re interested in the alpha Prince,” Benjen remarked from beside him.

Ned sighed, knowing that his being here was worrying his family. No one else knew that the second born son of Lord Rickard Stark was an omega. Everyone had been quite surprised when he had presented a few months ago as the only omega child in the North. When this tourney had come and Rickard and Jon had said that he couldn’t go, his siblings insisted. Lyanna, Brandon and Benjen had all enjoyed his company so far; why couldn’t he just mask his scent with moon tea and come with them.

“We’ll make sure they won’t touch you,” Brandon added, walking up to them from their tent. “The Targaryens are known to take what they want and the omega from the North would be-”

“Brandon! You’re going to scare him!” Lyanna retorted, elbowing Ned.

“I am okay, dear sister,” Ned replied, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “I can fend for myself.”

“That’s because you know how to fight,” Benjen said, with a pointed glare at Brandon.

Father hadn’t told him to stop training with their master at arms since he had presented and Ned was grateful. Being treated like he was going to break at any moment or that somehow he was vulnerable and weak was trying. As it was, he had to stop himself from baring his neck to any alpha that walked past them. And that was made even harder since there were a lot of alphas in the north.

The shouts of the people around them grew louder, drawing Ned’s attention back to the aisle between tents where the princes were walking. Both Rhaegar and Haerys had gotten closer to where the four of them were and had stopped. Prince Haerys was even looking right at him, his light purple eyes lit with something close to curiosity. Ned watched as the younger prince took a deep breath, the red Targaryen cloak fluttering behind him, and then Prince Haerys’ eyes lit up.

Brandon stepped closer to Ned, dropping his hand down to the sword at his belt.

“Brandon! That is the prince,” Ned muttered, reaching out to grasp his brother’s hand. “You can not let them see you draw a blade.”

“Now you see what I have to put up with,” Benjen muttered, sighing deeply.

Ned smiled slightly, watching as the two Targaryen princes continued to walk after an additional minute. The princes were followed by three members of the kingsguard, Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell and Ser Lewyn. The rest of the kingsguard were guarding the king, who everyone had already seen as he had come into Harrenhal.

“I think Prince Haerys smelled you,” Brandon grumbled, taking his hand away from his blade. “How is that possible? No one can smell through the tea you’re taking.”

“I don’t know but they’ve moved on, Brandon,” Ned spoke, glancing at Lyanna as she watched the princes walk off. “Let it go.”

 


 

 

That evening, the first evening of the tourney and the first feast, Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia took to the floor to dance. King Aerys sat in the great chair in the ballroom, watching over the lords and nobles that had come to the tourney. This had been the king’s first appearance outside of the Red Keep since the defiance at Duskendale and it had not gone over well with the lords.

King Aerys looked mad. His hair was ungroomed, his nails were several inches past his fingers, and his beard was matted and dirty. His alpha scent was wild, oppressive, stifling and everyone sitting close to him was trying their best to breathe shallowly. His purple eyes were crazy, lit up with paranoia and madness, as he watched his son and his son’s wife dance together. Ned didn’t know where Prince Rhaegar’s brother was but he knew him to be somewhere around the ballroom.

Lord Rickard was talking with Lord Hoster Tully at the next table, beside them. Brandon, Lyanna and Benjen were at his table, pointing out various lords and their ladies. They had already pointed out Lord Howland Reed, who was one of his father’s bannermen. The crannogman was short but Ned had met him earlier this afternoon and enjoyed his company.

“Would you like to dance?”

Ned started at the quiet words, hearing Lyanna and Brandon gasp under their breath. Benjen too inhaled sharply but did not comment.

Prince Haerys’ was standing to his left, holding out his hand. The prince’s silver hair was tied back, unlike Rhaegar’s. Haerys’ hair was also shorter than Rhaegar’s, just a hair’s breath away from the his shoulders. The scent of alpha rose from him and Ned could feel his mouth dry, his cheeks reddening a little at the instant attention they drew from the lords around them. The prince’s scent was so unlike his father’s, subtle and soft. Ned also thought that the prince’s scent also smelled like winter storms, like the lightning and thunder that struck the ground.

The prince’s eyes were kind as Ned frantically thought of some excuse to get him out of dancing with an alpha. An alpha who possibly knew that Ned was not a beta.

“You do not have to,” Prince Haerys whispered. “However, I don’t bite.”

Ned’s cheeks reddened, his heart speeding up, as Prince Haerys winked at him.

Lyanna giggled next to him and elbowed Ned. “Go on, brother!”

Ned took a deep breath and stood up, placing his hand in the prince’s. Haerys lightly tugged him up, pulling him in, as they took their positions on the floor. Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia danced in the opposite corner from them and Ned could see Rhaegar do a double take at his brother’s chosen partner.

“Your highness…”

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want, Eddard Stark,” Prince Haerys’ murmured, catching his eyes and beginning to move. “I just wanted a pretty dance partner and one who wouldn’t ask for my hand in marriage.”

Ned’s eyes widened as they danced, the prince’s hands moving around his waist. “You know?”

“I know what?”

“That I am not…”

Prince Haerys’ eyes narrowed then softened. “I know that you are not what you appear to be. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“How?”

“I have my ways,” Haerys said lightly, his lips twitching up into a small smile. “You are the second born son of Lord Rickard Stark. What is it like, up north?”

“Cold, your Grace.”

Prince Haerys snorted, his purple eyes lighting up with amusement. “I think that’s general knowledge. I’ve heard Winterfell is a great castle. Mayhaps I could come visit soon.”

Ned dipped his head in a nod. “Of course.”

 


 

 

Harry stood next to Rhaegar, eight months later, breathing hard and a familiar sword in his hand. Rhaegar was breathing heavily too, sweat pouring down his back as they both looked down at the body of Robert Baratheon. Ser Barristan stood behind them, watching their back as Ser Lewyn took charge of the Dornish bannermen.

Men and horses were dying all around them, their loud cries bringing back memories of Harry’s last fight against Voldemort in his past life.

“Are you okay, brother?” Rhaegar finally spoke, his voice shaky and dry.

“I am. You?”

“Yes. You can go aid our men,” Rhaegar remarked, sheathing his blade and taking a step back, looking out over the Trident. Their tents were a few miles back, south of the Trident. “I will gather our men and Robert’s lords.”

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath, before dropping his hand down into the tiny sheathe on his ankle, grasping the elder wand. “Call if you need me.”

“Brother, I am sorry,” Rhaegar spoke, just as Harry turned around. “I… did not know that it would cause this much trouble.”

“You’re forgiven, Rhaegar. It was just as much our father as you, definitely even more him than you,” Harry offered quietly, looking across the river and seeing Ser Lewyn and the remaining thousand Dornish flank Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Walder Frey and… “Go easy on Lord Eddard, okay? He did loose his father and brother just five months ago.”

“He doesn’t look like he is grieving.”

“He is of the North,” Harry replied, sheathing Gryffindor’s sword and peering over to where Lord Stark was. Lord Eddard Stark had just passed his twentieth name day a few days ago and was still unmated, unusual for an omega. Eddard Stark was talking quietly with Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Walder Frey and Lord Jon Arryn, occasionally glancing at the two princes. “Besides, he is the only omega lord in the North. Don’t tell anyone I was the one to tell you that though.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened. “Lord Eddard Stark is an omega?”

“I did not have any time to tell you,” Harry said, shrugging. “Anyway, I should go make sure Ser Lewyn and his men are okay.”

“Go. Join me when you’re done?”

Harry nodded. “We will need to talk anyways, about what to do about Father.”

“I need to take the throne.”

“Yes.”

 


 

 

Harry covered up a yawn as he finished healing Ser Lewyn’s ribs, peering up at the knight as soon as he was done. Ser Lewyn’s dark eyes narrowed in bemusement, like he was just humoring Harry in letting him heal him. The other Targaryen bannermen around them were looking at Harry in askance, like a prince healing common soldiers was unheard of. Most of their bannermen had already seen Harry use his magic though he took care to not use it in front of his father.

“Your Grace, you know you should let the maester look at you first,” Lewyn commented, gesturing to where the maester from House Darry was looking over various Targaryen bannermen. “We do not need-”

“You take care of us, Ser Lewyn,” Harry grumbled. “Let us take care of you in return.”

Ser Barristan walked over, his blue eyes lit with laughter. “Prince Haerys.”

“Ser Barristan. It seems you aren’t letting me look you over.”

“I let Darry’s maester look at me, Your Grace,” Barristan remarked, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “Your brother wants you.”

Harry rolled his eyes but nodded, making sure Gryffindor’s sword was still nearby. He buckled it onto his waist then stood up, swaying a little at the sudden movement. Ser Lewyn immediately closed the distance between them, holding him up.

“I’m fine,” Harry retorted, taking a deep breath and smelling the calming scents of the kingsguard, all either alphas or betas. “I didn’t use too much power, thank you very much.”

Ser Barristan sighed. “I’ll escort you.”

Harry led the way through the groups of Targaryen bannermen that were injured, letting slip a few strands of healing magic on the way. The tents where his brother was holding council were not too far away, big enough to hold most of Robert’s lords and Prince Rhaegar.

Harry stepped into the tent, stopping to take in the table that the lords were standing around. Prince Rhaegar was at the front and Ser Barristan immediately strode over to flank the prince. Ser Jonothor was already there, his arm in a sling, but still guarding the prince.

Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Eddard Stark, and Lord Jon Arryn were all standing around the table, their hands on their swords almost casually, subtly.

“My lords, are we in agreement?” Prince Rhaegar asked, eying Harry and nodding for him to come in. Harry strode through the lords and their personal guards, nodding to everyone he passed and stopped by his brother’s side. Ser Jonothor moved to better flank the two brothers, dipping his head in a nod when Harry raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his arm. “Lord Stark?”

“I will marry your brother, Your Grace. In return, the North will back your claim. Lord Arryn will too.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he turned to look at his brother, who minutely shrugged his shoulders, a message between them that they would talk later. Harry blinked then peered over at Lord Stark, who caught his eyes. Grey met purple. Alpha prince and omega lord of Winterfell.

 


 

 

“Rhaegar?”

The lords who had followed Robert had left to gather their men, leaving the two princes alone. Or mostly alone. Ser Barristan, Ser Jonothor and Ser Lewyn were stationed at the entrance to their tent.

“We need to make peace with the North. Wedding you to Winterfell’s lord and omega would bring peace.”

“I am not spying on the North for you.” Harry walked over to stand next to Rhaegar, who was looking over letters that had come in. Darry’s maester had brought a few ravens over for their use and they would send out letters to every lord, making it known that Rhaegar was taking the throne and he would have the support of the North, the riverlands, Dorne and the Vale.

“No. I would not ask that of you. I know this is a big thing to ask you but-”

“I will do it. If you think it will make peace, I will do it on one condition.”

Rhaegar turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Our children will be Starks, not Targaryens,” Harry said. “Eddard is now the lord of Winterfell. He will need heirs.”

“That is acceptable. We Targaryens are already growing after this,” Rhaegar offered. “I have Rhaenys and Aegon and hopefully more. Is… Elia okay?”

“She’s heartbroken,” Harry remarked, poking Rhaegar in the shoulder. “Treat her well after this. And yes, she will be able to bear more children. I worked it out with her, mixing up a few potions for her to take to gain strength.”

 


 

 

The minute that Rhaegar and Harry stepped into the courtyard of the Red Keep, they stopped, shock still. Ser Lewyn, Ser Barristan and Ser Jonothor stopped too, walking around to flank the princes. The lords and bannermen behind them stopped too, unsure what the hesitance was.

Rhaegar and Harry’s father, the king, was standing on top of a wooden pyre. Aerys’ eyes were crazy, big and wild. His arms were outstretched as a robed man walked up to the pyre, holding a lit torch in his hand.

“Father! What is going on?”

“My sons! I am about to be a legendary dragon! I will be reborn as a dragon and rule Westeros through fire and blood!” Aerys shouted, his matted and dirty beard waving in the slight afternoon breeze. Harry’s eyes widened and widened, his heart pounding, as he looked for their mother and his brother’s family.

“Father, where is mother?” Harry asked wearily, quietly, as both he and Rhaegar walked over to stand in front of the pyre.

“She didn’t have the strength to do what I must!” Aerys yelled, gesturing for the man to walk forward and light the pyre. “The dragons will rise again!”

“There are dragon eggs on that pyre,” Rhaegar murmured, glancing at Harry. “Seven, if I count correctly.”

“Where is our kingsguard brother?” Ser Barristan asked, coming up to stand beside Harry. The three kingsguard knights behind them all had their hands on their blades though none of them were going forward to disarm the pyromancer. Rhaegar whispered to Ser Lewyn in hushed words. “Where is Ser Jaime?”

Harry winced, turned around to look for Lord Stark. Eddard rode up, his grey eyes wide with apprehension.

“Would you look for Ser Jaime and the rest of my family?” Harry asked quietly, flinching at the look of judgement on Lord Stark’s face as he looked to King Aerys. He hoped… He knew he was the son of King Aerys and right now… He flinched again as the pyromancer lit the pyre and Aerys began to cackle maniacally. Harry made no move to extinguish the fire, choosing instead to leave his father to his fiery end.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Harry sighed, watched as Lord Eddard Stark dismounted and walked towards the Red Keep, a small group of his Northern bannermen following him. Harry thought he recognized Lord Howland Reed, of Greywater Watch, with him, then turned back to Aerys.

Rhaegar, Harry, and most of the southron Lords behind them watched as King Aerys burned, screaming and writhing on the pyre, to death. Some of the horses in the courtyard squealed in fright at the smell of smoke and burning flesh. King Aerys died amongst fire, his body slumping to the wooden pyre when the flames finished with him.

Lord Eddard Stark finally came out of the keep a few minutes after the flames had finally died down, followed by Queen Rhaella, Princess Elia and her children, and Ser Jaime, who was standing close by to Lord Stark. Ser Lewyn walked over to talk with their kingsguard brother, asking what happened.

“Harry…” Rhaegar trailed off, gesturing to the flames. They could hear a faint hissing coming from the pyre and they both could see movement within the dying flames. “Dragons… Will you deal with them? I need to go see to my wife and children.”

“Of course,” Harry replied, faint apprehension in his voice. “It better not be father reborn.”

Rhaegar stiffened. “Would you be able to tell whether or not…”

“I think so. Go, deal with the lords. Why don’t you ask Lord Jon Arryn to be your Hand? I believe he will be more able to mediate this, at least more than Lord Tywin would be. And… We should arrest the pyromancers.”

Rhaegar dipped his head in a nod, taking one last glance at the pyre and where baby dragons were toddling around, then headed over to talk with Lord Arryn and Princess Elia.

Harry nodded to Lord Stark then walked over to the pyre, peering on the wooden platform and lightly jumped up onto it, eyes widening at the sight before him. There were indeed seven baby dragons and they all glanced up at him, crooning up at him like they all thought he was their mother. He smiled warily, glancing out at Princess Elia and Rhaella. Little Rhaenys was standing right by her mother but when she saw him, she raced over to him, her purple eyes bright.

“Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry! You brought papa home!”

Harry smiled and slipped down from the pyre, a lavender dragonet in his arms. “Of course I did. I promised, didn’t I?”

Rhaenys nodded, all of three years old, and bright as she glanced up to the tiny dragon in his arms. “Is that a dragon?”

“It is,” Harry offered quietly, gently lowering it into Rhaenys’ arms. The dragonet peered up at Rhaenys’, the girl meeting the dragon’s eyes without flinching. “Treat it well, okay? Let me get the others.”

 


 

“That’s the last of the wildfire,” Prince Haerys said, glancing back to Ser Jaime. They were in the alchemist’s hall near Visenya’s Hill in King’s Landing, overseeing the moving of the wildfire to a safe place and banning the making of it. His brother was getting ready for the coronation that would take place tomorrow. Elia was glad that Rhaegar was alive but the princess was also weary of Harry’s brother. “Thank you, Ser Jaime, for keeping Princess Elia and my mother safe. I apologize for what my father did to you.”

“Your brother…” Jaime trailed off, glancing up towards where the Red Keep was. The city was quiet, just a few days after Rhaegar’s coronation. Everyone was holding their breath, seeing what Rhaegar was made of as king. Rhaegar had indeed followed Harry’s advice and made Jon Arryn his Hand. And had sent someone to fetch Lady Lyanna Stark and the other members of the kingsguard. They would be returning soon but not before Harry and Lord Stark’s wedding ceremony.

“He is not mad,” Harry spoke firmly. “If anything, Viserys… He should be watched.”

 


 

 

Ned watched as Prince Haerys walked across the aisle of the godswood. The prince had pulled his short, silver hair back in a short tail though there were already strands of hair that had escaped the tie. Howland Reed stood next to him, as a witness and to make sure nothing untoward happened between the families. King Rhaegar was already in front of the two of them, looking Ned over. Queen Elia Martell was standing on the other side, her daughter, Rhaenys, in her arms. She smiled at him then turned to where Prince Haerys was coming up towards them.

Rhaegar’s mother would have attended but she was not feeling well, a pain of pregnancy.

Ned had thought that they would have the ceremony in the Sept of Baelor and had been very surprised when he had been told it would happen in the godswood. But regardless, he studied his soon to be alpha. Prince Haerys was dressed in a cloak of red, unlike what brides wore. Alphas, especially royal alphas, wore their color of their own house.

Prince Haerys stopped alongside Ned, glancing at him apprehensively, and raising an eyebrow, almost checking on if he was okay or not. Ned dipped his head in a slight nod before turning to the new king. Rhaegar had gotten crowned yesterday, to the applause of the smallfolk and of most of the lords and ladies.

Ned had attended though he was still grieving for Robert, who had been his best friend. And Robert had thought about picking Ned for a mate, for a royal consort. Instead… the man beside him was not Robert but King Rhaegar’s brother. He remembered the first evening of the tourney at Harrenhal as they danced, remembered the gentle teasing from Prince Haerys.

King Rhaegar Targaryen looked them both over before clearing his throat and began to speak the ritual words of a Northern marriage.

“Eddard Stark, do you take this man to be your mate?”

“Yes.”

“Haerys Targaryen, do you take this man to be your mate?”

“Yes.”

“Join hands and kneel.”

Ned hesitated only a moment before reaching out to grasp Haerys’ hand, the other man’s alpha scent emanating off of him, and knelt. Ned looked up at the weirwood tree in front of them,  wishing he was already back in Winterfell. It had been a long time since he had been back, nearly a year since he had left the Vale to call his banners.

Ned sighed and glanced at his mated partner, a prince of the House Targaryen. Haerys looked too, purple eyes soft with assurances, and more than a little bit of hunger. The kind of hunger that he had seen on Brandon’s face more often than not when they had seen an unclaimed omega. Ned shuddered and Haerys gave his hand a squeeze, reassuring.

“Rise as one.”

Haerys lightly tugged Ned up, as they rose as wedded partners.

“You may now cloak your mate.”

Ned turned to look at Haerys, unsure about this part, unsure what the other man wanted.

Haerys’ eyes narrowed a little but then Elia stepped forward, holding out a cloak towards Ned.

“We made this for Haerys, Lord Stark,” Elia spoke, looking him over. Ned had the faintest thought that she approved of their marriage as she studied him then nodded. “You are lord and alpha consort. As Prince Haerys requested, your children will be Starks.”

Ned’s eyes widened as Elia handed the cloak over to him. The cloak was grey, a Stark cloak in color but hemmed with Targaryen red. Haerys gestured for him to put the cloak on and Ned lowered the cloak over Haerys’ shoulders.

 


 

 

Harry paced in his room an hour later and finally stopped, seeing Eddard Stark come in through the door. Eddard Stark swayed on his feet, the door closing loudly behind him as whoever had walked him to the room ran off. Harry inhaled sharply at the scent that he knew meant omega in heat but… He licked his lips, his cock hardening already at the scent and he could see Eddard was having trouble standing, staying up.

“Lord Stark?”

“Call me Ned.”

“Ned. Call me Harry then. Okay. Are you… Maester Pycelle drugged you to induce a heat, didn’t he?”

Ned swallowed but nodded, feeling the familiar heat race through his body. Sweat trickled down his back and the other less familiar wetness flow down his thighs. “It is tradition, my lord.”

“If we’re to be mated partners, you should call me Harry.”

Ned watched as Harry took a step towards him, holding out a hand. Ned let out a groan, his mouth going dry, as he closed the distance between them, placing his palm in Harry’s.

Prince Haerys’ eyes widened, tugging Ned in for a kiss, and shucking off his own cloak a minute before. Harry deepened the kiss, licking into Ned’s mouth, slotting a leg between Ned’s legs. Ned let out a strangled whine as he moved against Harry, wanting more friction, wanting relief from the heat that was burning through him. Hands curled around his back, slipping his cloak and tunic off. Ned blinked, feeling his cheeks redden a little at the heated look in Harry’s eyes.

“I know I’m not much to look at, Your Grace,” Ned muttered, glancing down at the stone floor of the room.

“What do you mean, you’re not much to look at?” Warm fingers tilted his chin up and he looked into reassuring purple eyes. “I see a young man who’s gone through so much pain, losing two members of your family in an instant, and has come out the other end, kind and gentle.”

“My brother was supposed to inherit Winterfell,” Ned spoke, inhaling sharply as Harry leaned in and placed a line of kisses on his bare shoulder, occasionally nipping a mark into the skin. “I am just the second son.”

“You’re my mate,” Harry retorted. “You’re the omega that will bear our children and I hope I become a worthy consort of the Lord of Winterfell.”

Ned looked into Harry’s eyes, baring his neck a second later. Harry’s eyes blew wide in arousal, omega submitting to their alpha, and leaned down to inhale his scent. One of Harry’s hands made its way to Ned’s neck, curling around him, before laying a claiming mark on the crook of his neck.

 


 

 

Harry woke up to a knock on his door a few days later, glancing down at Lord Eddard Stark. Ned was still asleep in his arms, recovering from a three day heat. His dark hair was ruffled, making him grin a little, memories of the past few days flashing through his mind. It had been a good heat, a more intimate one compared with the various people he had shared a heat with in the past. He slowly got up and moved over to the edge of the bed, getting up and opening the door.

King Rhaegar Targaryen stood on the other side, his brother looking splendid. Three baby dragons were at his feet while he held two more in his arms. When Harry had gotten a look at the dragons on the pyre, he had seen all of the amazing colors that the dragons were. Lavender, black, red, white, green, blue and gold.

“How was your heat, dear brother?” Rhaegar asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry’s shirtlessness.

“It was fine and that’s all I’m saying,” Harry grumbled, kneeling down and picking up the green dragon. The creature looked up at him with emerald eyes and deep green scales, smoke coming out of its nostrils. “Have you named them all yet?”

Rhaegar shook his head, a small grin on his face. “I have not. My daughter named one though, the lavender one.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glanced back into his bedroom where Ned was and closed the door behind him. He saw Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan standing along the wall next to him, both of them glancing at him with amused eyes.

“Rhaegal. Rhaenys named a dragon after me,” Rhaegar spoke, sighing, his voice tinged with love for his daughter.

“It fits,” Harry offered. “What did you mean to wake me up for?”

“Is it possible for you two to stay for a year in King’s Landing, at the most? I will need your help in training the dragons,” Rhaegar explained, his eyes wide with excitement and caution. “And you can help our mother. She went into labor last night and she is having trouble.”

Harry blinked. “I can ask Lord Stark. I think his brother is the Stark in Winterfell right now. I won’t separate the two of us though. That can’t happen.”

“I know. Newly bonded partners need to stay together. Think about it. You and Eddard can have your first child here and then leave for the North afterward. Harry...”

Harry’s eyes narrowed at Rhaegar’s tone, glanced to where Arthur and Barristan were, then back at his brother. “What?”

“Lady Lyanna. She is dead,” Rhaegar answered quietly, grief in his tone of voice. “Will you speak to your mate? Her child though did survive.”

“Her child? You got her pregnant? I thought…”

“I did. She named the boy Jon and I will legitimize him next week,” Rhaegar explained. “Prince Jon Targaryen. I want him to foster in Winterfell when the time comes. And mayhaps we can talk of betrothals when they are ready.”

“Alright. I will talk with Lord Stark about staying,” Harry offered, glancing down at the green dragon in his arms. The creature had fallen asleep, curled into him, its’ small green wings flopped over his arm. “Salazar.”

“Hmm?”

“This one? Salazar, for my former world.”

Rhaegar grinned wearily and nodded. “It’s a fine name for a dragon.”

 


 

 

Ned blinked his eyes open as he felt fingers running through his hair. He could feel Harry sitting next to him, glancing down at him, his purple eyes curious but hesitant at the same time. There was a green… thing sitting on Harry’s lap and it was moving about.

“Your Grace?”

“Ned, it’s Harry. Not… I wanted nothing to do with the throne.”

Ned’s cheeks reddened as he sat up. “How long was I asleep?”

“I think your heat finished late last night,” Harry spoke. “You’ve most certainly been asleep for seven hours or more.”

“You have a dragon on your lap,” Ned murmured, his eyes widening at the sight that met him. The green dragon was looking up at him, its’ eyes curious as it looked him over. Smoke trailed out of its mouth and Harry grinned a little.

“I do. Salazar, meet Eddard Stark,” Harry whispered, stroking the dragon’s wings as it leaned into him. “There are six more dragons with my brother’s family right now.”

Ned blinked. “How… did your father manage it? Dragons have been dead for hundreds of years.”

“Fire and blood. That’s our house motto,” Harry offered, bemusedly. “It’s gotta be good for something. Ned… Your sister…”

“Lyanna? Is she back?” Ned’s eyes narrowed at Harry’s tone, quiet and worried.

“Her son is,” Harry said, apologetically. “Lyanna did not make it through the birth.”

Ned sucked in a tight breath, tears filling his eyes. He felt an arm come around his waist, tugging him into the body next to him. The dragon on Harry’s lap chirped up at them, peering up at them with light green eyes.

“Lyanna named her son Jon,” Harry whispered. “Rhaegar will legitimize him next week.”

“Can we raise him?” Ned finally asked, after taking a deep breath. The tears stayed in his eyes by sheer will. “My sister would have wanted that at least.”

“He’ll foster in Winterfell when the time comes,” Harry spoke. “Rhaegar said that much.”

Ned dipped his head in a nod. “You have something else?”

“I… Yes. My brother asked if we could stay for a year or until we have our first child,” Harry explained, shrugging. “We don’t have to though. It wasn’t an order.”

“Benjen is the Stark in Winterfell right now,” Ned spoke after a few minutes. “I need to write him and see if there are any pressing concerns. If not, we can stay. My bannermen will go home of course.”

“Yes, of course. They’re not needed anymore. You can keep your Stark guards,” Harry said then pushed away from the headboard and studied him. “Winter is coming.”

Ned nodded. “Those are the Stark house words.”

“You’ll need to tell me everything about the North,” Harry added, his lips twitching up into a small smile. “Tell me the stories and the legends and of the Houses. I want to know everything.”

Ned slowly matched Harry’s small grin. “You are like your brother then.”

“Reading… I suppose so. I don’t play the harp though.”

“Why do you keep to the Old Gods?” Ned asked, more than a little curious about the answer. “Queen Elia said you didn’t just hold our ceremony in the godswood because I hold to the Old Gods.”

Harry let out a quiet hum of consideration. “I had a dream of them. When I was younger anyway.”

Ned blinked. “You dreamt of them.”

“Yes.”

“A Targaryen who doesn’t pray to the Seven.”

“It’s why my brother thought we’d be a good match,” Harry remarked, holding out his hand, palm out. “The Quiet Wolf and the Strange Dragon.”

Ned hesitantly reached out, placing his hand in Harry’s.

Harry entwined their hands, locking eyes with him, then nodded.

“The North will definitely find you strange,” Ned spoke, his eyes narrowed.

“I look forward to seeing Winterfell in a year’s time then.”

Chapter Text

Thorin ran out of Erebor, hearing the screams and yells of his people as they fled the dwarven city. Smaug was here, putting to flame anyone in his way and trampling everything else with his big legs. The survivors of the dwarven guard followed him, helping the refugees out. One helped Thorin’s own sister Dis as she tripped on a broken rock, scooping up a dwarfling who had gotten lost.

Thorin dropped his hand to his sword when Frerin alerted him to something on Ravenhill, the site of the dwarven guard post. He peered up at the hill, momentarily stopping in his tracks as he looked and beheld the elves. King Thranduil was atop his white steed, the beautiful white stag looking down on them. A host of elves were behind him, on horseback and on foot, with quivers full of arrows.

And next to King Thranduil was a magnificent black horse, one that had no bridle or saddle. Atop the black horse was a man or maybe an elf but he was wearing clothes just as magnificent as the elven king.

“Help us!”

Thorin waved his arms in the air, hoping to draw the elves’ attention to their plight. He had seen many dead friends and dwarven folk as he had raced out, one among them being his grandfather. Sweat poured down his forehead and down his back as he ran over to his brother and sister, hoping that the elves would help. He stared at them, narrowed his eyes as he saw Thranduil start to turn around. Thorin watched as the man on the black horse started to speak to Thranduil, gesturing to the dwarves and behind them, to the elven host.

Then the black horse took off, with no visible urging, and galloped down the hill, carrying its’ rider down, towards the dwarves. Thorin’s eyes widened as a minute later, King Thranduil did the same, urging his own mount down towards the dwarves. The elven host behind him followed, splitting up at the base of the hill, half going in the direction of Dale and half following Thranduil.

The black horse seemed to arrive at the foot of the road into Erebor within a minute or two of taking off, the man jumping off gracefully and walking steadily past the refugees. The man had a blade strapped to his waist and the clothes he was wearing evoked an image of an old king of men but Thorin had never heard of someone like him. The man’s horse stayed still, prancing out of the way of the dwarves who were fleeing.

“Prince Thorin! Are you okay?”

“Who are you?”

“King Thranduil’s consort,” the man replied, coming to a stop before him. Thorin peered up at him, seeing the strange scar on his forehead and the glowing green eyes and the wild black hair that was tied back. “We’re here to help. Is the king…”

“King Thror is dead,” Thorin answered, raising an eyebrow. “King Thranduil came to help.”

The man grinned a little, gaze going to where King Thranduil had ridden off towards Dale. “He took some convincing, I admit. But yes, we’re here to help. I’ll take care of the dragon. They’ll help the refugees and rebuild Dale, assuming it wasn’t too badly damaged. After I get the dragon, they’ll need to have access to the mountain, help rebuild.”

“A sword won’t help,” Thorin muttered.

“I don’t need a sword to do this,” the man offered. “I have magic at my side.”

Thorin blinked, watched as the man walked off, towards Erebor, towards the dragon inside. Already he could see a portion of the elven host setting up tents in the center of the valley, a few horses pulling wagons coming up to them, filled with supplies and food.




 

 

“SMAUG, GET YOUR ARSE OUT OF THERE!!”

Harry stopped at the broken gate of Erebor, knowing that he was drawing the stares of the dwarves behind him. At least, most of the elves in Mirkwood were used to him now since he had arrived in their world 200 years ago. He dropped his hand down to Gryffindor’s sword briefly before taking a step into the mountain, avoiding the bodies around him. He spared some magic to heal some of the more badly wounded dwarves, getting them up and walking so that they could walk out and see a healer. Hopefully, they wouldn’t discriminate between him and the elven healers that had come with them.

He heard the thumping of Smaug’s feet and wings against the stone walls around him and walked further into Erebor, following the sounds of a dragon making his nest. He took note of the many downed pillars, filing the locations away for future repairs in his mind before arriving at the treasure room. The throne room was to his right, where Thranduil had gone to retrieve his jewels a few days earlier. Harry stopped at the entrance to the treasure room, overlooking the whole mountain of gold, and staring right at the red dragon before him.

Smaug was huge and gleaming, taking up many miles of space with his wings and body. Harry blinked then leapt off of the railing before him, between one moment and the next, shifting shape into a phoenix. He flew forward, beating his wings rapidly, glowing with fire and flew right at Smaug’s head, making sure the dragon saw him.

The dragon zeroed in on him, Smaug’s eyes watching him like a lion watched its prey.

“Who dares to disturb me?! Me? Smaug? The newly crowned King Under the Mountain?”

Harry rolled his eyes, flew in to claw at Smaug’s eyes, using his natural fire and warmth to anger the dragon.




 

 

Thranduil directed some of his elves to watch the borders of Erebor, to be on the lookout for orcs or goblins that might have seen the dragon. The chosen sentries rode out on horseback, their bows and quivers strapped to their backs. He again turned to look at the mountain of Erebor, a few miles to the north, wondering how Harry was, if he had succeeded. The distressed cries of the men of Dale rose around him as his men and women helped dig people out from under stone. Late, Harry would help rebuild the city but now…

He could see most of the dwarves that had fled Erebor were sticking around, staying under the tents that his own people had set up. It had taken much arguing before Harry had convinced him to come to aid Erebor and Dale and some of that had not been them talking. He had been weary at first, not wanting his elves to die or be injured again, but Harry had talked him out of turning around. Harry had said that he would handle the dragon.




 

 

Nearly a half an hour later, the survivors of Dale had congregated outside, under the tents that the elves had set up. Thranduil was seeing to the temporary arrangements for housing, seeing to it that they had enough tents and food. The dwarves had been wary enough of the elves but most had let the elves look at their injuries and the like.

Prince Thorin was directing the survivors, seeing to everyone’s needs. Thranduil’s own son, Legolas, was talking with some of the guardsmen, keeping an eye on the borders of the land. A few of his scouts had seen goblins encroaching on the far border of Erebor and had kept note of them.

Screams came from the tents that were the closest to Erebor, the ones that were looking at the mountain and Thranduil’s eyes widened. He immediately hastened over to the tent that overlooked Erebor’s front gate, seeing the ruins of the gate and…

Smaug came flying out of the mountain, blood pouring from a wound in his long neck. The familiar fire bird came flying out too, near Smaug’s tail, and as Thranduil watched, swiped again at Smaug’s legs, at the dragon’s neck. Smaug squealed, roaring out something that sounded like a threat. Thranduil smirked, knowing that Harry wasn’t even paying attention to the dragon.

“Quite a man, isn’t he?”

Thranduil would forever deny that he gasped, turning to his side to see Gandalf. “Mithrandir.”

“King Thranduil. I had not thought to see you two together,” Gandalf remarked.

Smaug finally gave out, crashing into the land in front of Erebor, in the valley. The dragon gave one last scream of anger before the phoenix turned back into a man, landing right on Smaug’s neck and impaling the dragon with his sword.

“Harry has grown on me.”

“Indeed.”

“Harry knew of your meddling, wizard. We would appreciate no more.”

Gandalf laughed under his breath but nodded. “The results have been quite exemplary.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes and headed towards the body of Smaug, hearing his two guards follow. Harry was still standing on top of Smaug’s body, breathing heavily, the sword of his past world in his hands, by turns gleaming in the sun and dripping with dragon blood.

Something wrong?” Harry called out, his eyes intent on Thranduil as he approached. There were still sparks of flame flying about on Harry’s skin, the remnants of shifting shape.

“No. Are you okay?”

“I am. How goes the assistance?”

“Prince Thorin is aiding us and unsurprisingly, Gandalf has arrived,” Thranduil spoke, taking in Harry’s bright eyes. The man who he chose to make his consort was eying him in a way that bespoke want and… “Harry, this is not the time.”

Harry snorted, glanced down at the body of the dragon. “Perhaps later I can steal you away in some part of the mountain.”

Thranduil felt his cheeks warm. Harry smirked at him then jumped off, his magic aiding him in the soft fall to the ground. “Later then.”




 

 

A week later, the rebuilding effort for both Erebor and Dale was well under way. Elves, dwarves and men were all working together, aiding each other. The injured had been tended to and the curious company of orcs and goblins had been killed. Erebor was also getting ready for the coronation of a new king, King Thrain.

Harry idly walked alongside King Thranduil in one of Erebor’s hallways. The dwarves were busy with repairing everything and with getting ready for the coronation though Harry was helping with the rebuilding. Smaug hadn’t been in the mountain for more than two hours but the dragon had done a lot of damage.

“Do we have to stay for the coronation?” Thranduil murmured, as they stopped in a corner to let several dwarves through. Some glanced up at them, mostly looking at Harry with awe in their eyes while giving Thranduil the stink eye. “The dwarves are not trustworthy.”

“You just say that because you’re an elf,” Harry whispered, dropping his arm down to catch Thranduil’s hand and entwining their fingers once the dwarves were gone. “They don’t have the time to do anything along the lines of a betrayal.”

Thranduil sighed. “Harry.”

“Thranduil.” Harry returned, tugging him further into the corner. “Prince Thorin did seem nice, didn’t he?”

“Nice enough for a dwarf,” Thranduil agreed, feeling the cold stone at his back as Harry placed a hand on his chest. Warmth flowed from the man even through the fabric separating them. Cold stone versus flesh made warm from the fire within. “Perhaps we could only deal with him in the future.”

Harry grinned, wrapping an arm around Thranduil’s neck, under his long, silvery hair, and pulled him into a kiss. A strangled groan left his throat as Harry surrounded him, familiar magic wrapping around them and hiding their corner. “ Hantanyel.” [Thank You]

Thranduil sighed as Harry deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth, nipping bites at the corners of his mouth. Thranduil whined as Harry slipped a leg in between his as their cocks hardened. One of Harry’s arms made its’ way under Thranduil’s tunic, rubbing distracting circles on his hip.

Ídhron gi phuithad,” Harry whispered, his green eyes blown with arousal. “But that will have to wait.”

“Then wait we will...” Thranduil trailed off on a moan as Harry pinned him to the stone wall behind them, one hand on his chest as the other made its’ way down to his cock.

Harry grinned at Thranduil’s face, his grey eyes blown wide with arousal and his mouth open just a little. His elven king was breathing heavily, almost leaning into him as Harry’s hand traced downward, meeting his cock and lightly running his fingers over it. “You’re beautiful like this, undone by my fingers.”

A choked off cry came from Thranduil’s throat as Harry placed more pressure on his cock, twisting a little and leaned into bite a claiming mark onto the bare skin of his shoulder. With another whimper, Thranduil let go, his release sticking onto Harry’s fingers.

Thranduil slumped into Harry, as the man stroked him through his orgasm, wrapping arms around him. “Le melin.”

“Love you too, you daft elf,” Harry whispered, smiling softly. “Even if you distrusted me when we first met.”

 

Chapter Text

Harry paced the streets around Privet Drive, idly walking along the sidewalk with only the moon to shine a light on him. It was the summer in between his fifth and sixth year and he didn’t particularly want to go back to his room on the second floor of the Dursley house. Though it was getting cold out and he could smell the scents of his neighbors going to bed. Some of them were going through heats of their own while others were just normal, neither alpha nor omega.

Most of them weren’t aware of the coming war in the wizarding world. Most of them were just figuring out whether they found their chosen mate, whether it was an alpha, beta or an omega. Harry himself had presented as an alpha last month, right around his 16th birthday. He had just found a willing enough omega and had taken them to the apartment he had rented. The guy had been a muggle so Harry hadn’t thought about taking him to Potter mansion.

Now, his alpha rut was coming soon and Dudley had stopped trying to goad him into anything. Dudley was an alpha but much less… powerful as an alpha as he was. Dudley was one of those alphas who took advantage of their power over omegas, lorded it over them.

Harry sighed, glancing over at the playground where he had first seen Sirius. His godfather had just barely survived the fight in May at the Ministry. It had taken Harry a few minutes to calm him down, even before he presented as an alpha. Now, Harry had been made Lord Black and Lord Potter. Apparently, being an alpha meant a wizard could be lord of a house. With the old blood of the wizarding world, no omegas or betas could be heads of a house. The old pureblood families said that omegas were inferior, just walking wombs and sex playthings, especially male omegas.

A cry drew him from his thoughts and he turned to look down one of the alleyways across from him. Harry squinted, trying to make out anything in the darkness, and another cry settled him. He made sure he had his holly wand with him, mindful of the possibility of Death Eaters that might be ambushing him, and headed towards where the cry had come from.




 

 

Tom Riddle cried out again, writhing on the cold cement beneath him. He nearly couldn’t think beyond getting to his alpha, the alpha he had scented a few months ago at the Ministry. More slick dripped down his inner thigh and he let out a strangled growl.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

He refused to bend to these asinine pheromones that said that he had to find an alpha. He refused- A choked off cry left his throat at the delicious alpha scent, the scent that was coming closer. Heat roiled in his stomach, burning throughout his body and slithering through his mind as the omega heat ignited him. Even more omega slick leaked from him, soaking his slacks further. He had long since lost his dress shirt in his mansion.

“Hey? You okay over there?”

The sound of booted footsteps proceeded his alpha arriving to save him and he yelled out, reaching out for him. The heat had already clouded his vision over with lust, with the need for alpha . He couldn’t tell who it was but the scent was familiar, young, and powerful.

“Riddle?!”

The word meant nothing to him now, lost to the heat, but he did… recognize the voice. At least somewhat.

“What the fuck.”

“You look young again. The fuck is going on?”

Tom writhed on the ground, finding something to rub his arse against, to get relief from the heat. The friction felt wonderful and then a hand landed on his chest, pinning him in place. He whined and tried to buck up, into the hand, only for the hand to hold him down firmly.

“Tom. What the fuck is going on? Is this a trap? Your minions around here somewhere?”

Tom moaned as the hand moved, almost of its’ own accord, judging by the startled groan coming from the alpha. “I…”

“You’re in heat, that much I can see. A bad heat too. You on suppressants?”

“Of course you are. I didn’t smell omega from you last May.”

“Riddle, you should know better by now. Taking drugs to suppress a heat can only end in this. Ah well. I should probably leave you to this. It’s not like you’d help me out if I was in this situation.”

His alpha removed his hand and Tom arched up, grasped the alpha’s hand desperately. “My alpha.”

The alpha in front of him stilled then Tom heard him let out an annoyed sigh. Tom blinked as he heard movement, felt arms come around him, gentle but firm. He tried to rub his arse against the hand holding him there and then he startled as that hand slapped his arse. The pain added to his pleasure, gave him relief from the relentless heat.

“Needy thing, aren’t you? I won’t have you fucked on the cement, Riddle. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, much less my enemy.”

Riddle leaned into the alpha that was holding him, burrowed into him and buried his head into the crook of the alpha’s neck and shoulder and inhaled. His back hit cold stone, making him freeze, then cry out as the hand came back to his stomach, sliding down, down to his cock. The hand rubbed, squeezed a little and that set him off, spiraling into his first orgasm of the night. Pleasure rode through him and he sighed in contentment, the heat moving back, giving him some space in his mind.

Some space to realize who was holding him. To realize who had just made him come.

“Potter!”




 

 

Harry snorted as he stared at Riddle, the omega in his arms. Tom was a beautiful omega now, his red eyes blown with heat and his dark brown hair ruffled. Tom had been shirtless when Harry had found him, his arse soaked through with omega slick. And apparently had been too deep into his heat that he had not recognized Harry up until now.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Harry offered, smirking a little. His own alpha side was reacting to Riddle’s omega, wanting to dominate, to claim, and everything else be damned. “What are enemies to do when one of them turns out to be an omega? I couldn’t just leave you on the cold cement, could I? I am supposed to be all noble and have a people saving thing, as you well know.”

Riddle glared at him, his red eyes narrowed both with suspicion and with the omega lust.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry continued idly, lowering Riddle to the ground but keeping an arm around his waist. “I wonder what you would look like if I fucked you. Alpha to omega. I could use you to scare the shit out of my relatives.”

Riddle kept on glaring at him. “I am going to kill you.”

“You can’t kill me now,” Harry responded, placing a hand on Riddle’s chest, moving his fingers up to tweak a nipple. “You’re in heat and will be for a few days, maybe more, since I gather you’re on suppressants. Besides, you don’t want your minions knowing you’re an omega.”

“And you’re any better? You will bring about my downfall.”

“You’ve done that yourself,” Harry argued, pushing some of Riddle’s sweaty hair off his face. “You did that yourself when you killed my parents. Anyhow, what’s with the hair and the unsnaky face? You’re taking back your horcruxes, aren’t you?”

Riddle was about to reply when a cry forced its’ way out of his throat. Harry frowned but tugged him into a kiss, wet and hot, licked his way into Riddle’s mouth. Riddle moaned and Harry smiled, using one hand to tip Riddle’s chin up and trailed a line of biting kisses up his throat.

Riddle bared his throat and Harry groaned, reaching one hand down to play with one of Riddle’s nipples, at the same time placing a claiming, biting mark on the crook between Riddle’s neck and shoulder. Riddle screamed, coming again at the twin sensations, slumped into his arms.

“Come on. We can’t stay here,” Harry finally spoke, slipping arms around Riddle again and lifting. “Though… on second thought, public claiming sex. That’s definitely turning me on. Later perhaps. Maybe tonight I can mark you like you marked me.”

Riddle groaned and then Harry began to walk.




 

 

Riddle tried to hold in his cries as Harry jostled him while they stepped into a house. He was only half aware of where he was, only that wherever Harry was taking him to better have a bed. Was only half aware of the sudden screams coming from somewhere near him. Harry shrugged and continued to walk, moving up a set of stairs and turning down a hallway.

They entered a room and Tom startled as he was loosely dropped onto a bed. He glared up at Harry as the other man went to close and lock the door. Riddle also watched him place his hand against the door, watched as the slight glow of magic and wards hummed to life, wrapping around the room speedily.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Harry turned to stare at him, crossing his arms. “Pardon?”

“I’m your enemy,” Tom hissed out, glancing down at himself and banishing his slacks with a wave of his hand. “I’m an omega! You should kill me while you have the opportunity! I do not want to be an omega! That’s why I take suppressants!”

Harry continued to stare at him, raising an eyebrow, as he came over to the foot of the bed.

“Potter! Say something!”

“You’re a pretty omega,” Harry offered finally, rolling his eyes. “Especially since you’re… you again. I wasn’t taken with the snake look. No offense.”

Tom sighed, feeling the heat start to cloud his senses again. “The fuck are we doing?”

“We? You are in heat and I am helping you through it. Isn’t that enough?”

His heart began to beat doubletime as heat roiled through his body again. Sweat dripped down his forehead and slick flooded his arse. Harry kneeled on the bed, his knees flanking Tom, as he leaned down to lick a path up from his inner thighs to his nipples.

Tom cried out, letting out a strangled moan as Harry moved a hand to his arse, lifting him up and placing a pillow underneath him. A finger moved to his hole, smearing some of the omega slick around his arse and Tom watched as Harry brought up the finger to his mouth, tasted it.

“Potter.”

“You taste good,” Harry whispered in parseltongue. “ Like you were made for this.”

Tom groaned, watching the young man taste him again, dipping his head to lick a stripe up his cock. Another finger made its way to his hole, slipped inside him, crooked a little and pleasure shot up his body. “Fuck…”

Harry peered up at him, smirked, and moved, shucking off his jeans and showing off his bigger cock then sheathing himself with one move. Tom cried out, bucking up into the feeling, trying to shimmy closer to feel more. Pleasurer coiled within him, making his toes curl and his fingers grasp at the sheets beneath him.

“The Dark Lord, undone by my fingers. Fitting, I think,” Harry muttered, moving out then sliding back in, the omega liquid slicking his way easily. “You haven’t ever been knotted before, have you? Just used toys?”

Tom shook his head, not trusting his voice. The heat was burning its way through his body, pleasure following in its wake. Each time Harry’s cock hit the spot, he saw stars, pleasure building at the base of his spine. Fingers touched his cock, stroked once or twice and then came, pleasure erupting all through him. Harry cried out above him and his knot grew within Tom’s omega hole.




 

 

Harry woke up three days later to an empty bed and to terrified relatives. Uncle Vernon was sitting in the dining room, fear sweat dripping down his back and forehead. Aunt Petunia was shock still, sitting in her usual place in the living room, on the couch. Dudley was sitting on the other side of the couch, sitting ramrod straight.

“Well… what’d I miss?” Harry asked, as soon as he came down the stairs.

“You were loud,” Dudley whispered, his eyes wide with fear.

Harry snorted.

“I would say I’m sorry but I’m not.”



Chapter Text

Bruce Wayne watched as everyone stood up to clap, the scientist at the podium having finished a minute or two ago. It had been a way to celebrate Wayne Aerospace 25th anniversary, having a series of talks by its’ own scientists and visiting scientists and businessmen.

The seats had all been taken by people, varying in wealth since Bruce had argued for making the series free to attend.

“Really makes you think if we’ll get to Mars in the next few years.”

He turned in his seat to see the man beside him. The guy looked to be Bruce’s age, early to mid 40’s, with black hair that only reached down to his shoulder blades. The guy had dark green eyes, usual enough Bruce supposed, but the thing that caught his attention was the scar. The man had a scar on his forehead, one that was shaped like a lightning bolt. The scar forked downward in branches, facing down the man’s face.

Bruce wondered how the man had gotten it, if the scar was from a bullet or knife or something else. The guy was wearing a less impressive but still good quality tux, with a deep green jacket that brought out the color in his eyes.

“I wonder if there are aliens up there too,” the man spoke, raising an eyebrow. “Aliens. Kryptonians… There could be aliens who love to party… Oooh, hey, there could be space wizards!”

“I think Star Wars already covered that,” Bruce finally said, smirking at the man. “We’ve already got you covered for that. But aliens who only party… I would love that kind of alien. They could spice up the parties here.”

The man laughed, eying him thoughtfully. “You hold a lot of parties yourself, Mr Wayne. I haven’t been to a single one of them unfortunately.”

“And who would you be?”

“Harry Potter. I’m President of the local chapter of Veteran’s Affairs. I took the day off to hear this talk and I’m glad I did.”

The audience slowly finished clapping, with most of them starting to walk out. Bruce kept an eye on everyone while focusing on Harry. Something about him intrigued Bruce and he wasn’t sure whether it was the look in the man’s eyes, knowing but amused, or the scar. He didn’t know of any weapon that could make a mark like that. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy. Care to join me at the reception?”

Harry raised an eyebrow but nodded, his lips turning up into a small grin. “Sure. I have the rest of the day off. Why not? I’ve always wanted to make smalltalk with a billionaire.”

Bruce let out a surprised huff of a laugh, standing up and holding out a hand. Harry peered up at him before grasping his hand. Bruce glanced down at their joined hands, feeling the rough calluses on Harry’s palm and attributing it to lots of paperwork. Or perhaps Harry had been in the military himself. “I’m glad I’m around so that you can strike something off your bucket list. What else is on that list of yours?”

“Oh… a few things. Visit space, meet the President, pull a rabbit out of my hat, go on vacation to Paris… Things like that.”

“Pull a rabbit out of your hat?”

“Eh, I’m learning magic tricks,” Harry explained, his voice teasing, as Harry pulled himself up with Bruce’s help. “It’s really rather hard.”

“I would imagine.”

They walked out of the hall and over to the reception hall, where the audience had gathered. Most were well dressed, tuxes for the men and dresses for the ladies in the hall. People in uniform went around holding trays with champagne on them while others held little snacks. The building that the reception was held in had floor to ceiling windows on three sides of it, showing off the city in front of it. The sun had gone down hours ago so the light of the building flooded the parking lot and the city around them.

“Soo… what’s your take on the Superman?” Harry questioned, as they walked over to one of the empty corners.

“I’m sure you’ve seen it in the gossip columns,” Bruce remarked, narrowing his eyes. “What’s yours?”

“He’s cute,” Harry offered, staring at him as he grabbed one of the little snacks off of a passing tray. “I suppose he’s already taken though. I would have enjoyed that. Probably great in bed that one.”

Bruce grinned, taking a step closer towards Harry and eying him up and down pointedly. They were of the same height, eye to eye. “I’m not taken for the night.”

He would have to work on what was going on with Lex Luthor and the White Portuguese tomorrow morning but having a bed partner tonight could be fun.

Harry smirked at him, looked him over. “Bruce Wayne, offering to take me home for the night? I don’t know if you can handle me.”

Bruce grinned wider. “Says you.”

Harry stepped closer to him, his eyes looking Bruce over. “Says me.”

 


 

 

Bruce rocked back on his heels as Harry didn’t even spare a moment between stepping into the lakehouse and tugging Bruce into a kiss. Bruce grinned and met Harry’s energy with his own, wrapping his arms around the other man. Harry’s arms went around Bruce’s waist, inching under his suit and digging into skin.

Bruce knew there were no bruises there, on his waist or his chest, so he was in the clear to pull off his shirt. He was about to when Harry deepened the kiss, licking his way into Bruce’s mouth. A strangled groan left his mouth as Harry smirked and Bruce rolled his eyes.

“I’m not that easy.”

Harry grinned, staring at him before stripping off his shirt, leaving it to drop to the floor with a light thump. “I only just got here five months ago but even I know you’re the apparently the most wanted bachelor in the city.”

Bruce looked his fill, eying the odd scar or two on Harry’s chest and shoulder. The one on Harry’s right shoulder looked to be a knife wound but old and the one on Harry’s upper left chest seemed to be relatively new, healed a month and a half ago.

“Your turn, Bruce.”

Bruce grinned, pulled his suit jacket off and left it to drop on the ground. Alfred would probably not like that but in the moment, Bruce didn’t give a shit. He pulled off his suit vest and tie and finally his shirt, glancing up to see what Harry thought of him.

Harry was staring at him, his eyes blown with arousal. “Now I understand why you’re the most wanted bachelor in the city.”

Bruce smirked at him and Harry grinned, reaching out to curl an arm around Bruce’s waist, pulling him towards him. “Bed?”

“This way,” Bruce spoke, his heart beating quickly as Harry bent into trail a line of kisses up his throat, ending in a heated kiss. His toes curled with the force of the kiss and he reached down to take his shoes off, took his socks off too. Bruce slowly walked back through the lakehouse, his mind quiet but lit up with arousal as Harry followed, looking at him with intent in his eyes.

“Nice place you got here,” Harry spoke, as they reached the bed and stopped before it. Bruce watched as Harry looked around, the floor to ceiling windows surrounding them with a view of the lake in front of them. He took the brief pause to pull off his slacks, watched as Harry did the same. “Must be nice to wake up to.”

“Stay the night and you can see for yourself,” Bruce offered, standing almost still by the bed. “You have a preference?”

Harry turned to look at him, eyed him briefly before raising an eyebrow. “I usually top. You?”

“I might make an exception to my preference for you.”

“You might?” Harry repeated, grinning a little and closing the distance between them, lightly nudging Bruce onto the bed. “How generous.”

Bruce returned Harry’s grin with one of his own, sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching as Harry stepped within his legs. “I’m a billionaire. I’m supposed to be generous.”

Harry snorted, reaching out to tip Bruce’s chin up and bent down to kiss him again.



Harry started a little as Bruce pulled apart and lay down on the bed, Bruce’s legs going around Harry and pulling him down on top of him. Harry looked down at Bruce, seeing the man stare at him expectantly, hungrily. Harry grinned and reached a hand down,  rubbing a thumb over a nipple and watched Bruce’s reaction, watched his eyes go wider with arousal, watched his breathing quicken. Both of them were already hard, their cocks leaking pre-cum.

Bruce’s legs tightened at Harry’s back and pleasure rocked through him. Harry reached down to lick a stripe down his chest, hearing Bruce’s sharp inhale of breath, seeing his fingers claw at the mattress underneath them. Sweat dripped down his back and heat coiled within him.

“Harry…” Bruce growled out, as Harry reached up again, biting a kiss into the crook of his neck.

Harry grinned, using his other hand to rub at Bruce’s other nipple. “You said I could top.”

Bruce groaned and almost bucked up as Harry shuffled down again and curled his hands around his cock.

 


 

 

Pleasure rode through his body,watching as Harry watched him, heat in his green eyes. “Lube?”

“Bedside table,” Bruce croaked out, tugging Harry into another kiss as the man reached over him to grab the tube. Harry groaned into it, deepening it while opening the cap and smearing some slick onto his fingers.

One of Harry’s hands slid down skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake and Bruce arched into the pleasure, needing more. Bruce watched as Harry shuffled back down his body, lifting slightly at his hips and moving a pillow underneath. A finger, wet, breached him and Bruce arched up at the sensation, sparks of pleasure racing through him.

“Been a while?” Harry questioned, his voice husky and hoarse as he added another finger. Bruce whined and leaned into Harry, as the fingers within him crooked and hit the spot. He let out a strangled gasp as pleasure sped through him, almost vibrated through him.

“Get on with it.”

Harry grinned, removed his fingers, then slid in, stretching him and Bruce sighed into it. Harry’s arms bracketed him as he leaned into kiss him again and Bruce grinned into it, reached up to yank Harry back into a kiss as soon as he pulled away. Harry groaned as he settled in and began to move, Bruce clenching more than a little, knowing that Harry wasn’t far off himself.

Harry slowly slid out a little only to fall back in, not hesitating at all as Bruce clenched around him, moving around a little to get closer, feel more. Harry moaned, increasing his pace, his speed, as they moved together, and when Bruce curled an arm around Harry to pull him down, to place a biting kiss onto his neck, it sent Harry over the edge. Harry stilled, reaching down to stroke his cock, too much sensation at once, pleasure coiling and racing through him to his release.

Harry dug his fingers into the bed, pleasure rolling through him. Bruce looked up at him as they both rode the wave of pleasure in silence.

 


 

 

Harry slumped down, moving to lie on his side as he watched Bruce. “That was fun.”

Bruce snorted, his brown eyes studying Harry before he smirked. “You staying?”

Harry pulled up the covers, nodded. “Sure.”

 


 

 

Alfred pulled up to the driveway of the lake house the next morning, keeping his eyes out for the man who Bruce had brought home last night. Most of Master Bruce’s one nighters left early in the morning and as Alfred got out his car, this man was no exception.

“Need a ride back into the city?” Alfred questioned, looking the man over, taking in the man’s green eyes and untidy black hair and the scar on his forehead.

“No, thanks,” the man spoke, grinning a little and stretching as he walked up to Alfred. “I was going to… Well.”

Alfred blinked. “You were going to what?”

“Fly.”

Alfred stared, watching as the man reached into a pocket of his tux and pulled out a small broomstick. He watched as the man glanced at Alfred before whispering something under his breath. The broom turned into a regular sized broom, with a few additions that looked like places to put feet, and the man held it out before him. Alfred continued to stare at the man, watched as he mounted the broom.

“It’s a nice morning for it anyway.”

The man smiled then rose up into the air, hovered briefly over the house then took off, speeding back to the city.

Alfred blinked again and glanced into the lake house, wondering if Bruce was awake by now. He shrugged, already deciding to not tell Bruce about the man he had had over for the night. Master Bruce already had too many things on his mind to add to it.

Chapter Text

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Steve could feel his heart racing, could hear his breathing. He thought he was having an asthma attack as his knees buckled amidst what was apparently the 21st century. He landed roughly on the cold cement, shivered at the thought that he was now alone. He had slept for 70 years but it felt like an hour to him. Flashes of his last memories sped through his mind, overwhelming him. The car headlights blinded him and the advertisements above him blared their product or Broadway show.

He could hear someone talking above him then yelling at someone else. The man was yelling at someone named Fury then silence except for the cars, trucks and the sounds of people walking and talking.

“Steve.”

“You’re okay.”

He felt someone grasp one of his hands, their thumb rubbing soft circles on his palm. “Steve, I need you to breathe. You’re safe. Just breathe.”

Something wrapped around him and it sounded like the flutter of a wing as it shielded him from all the light and the noise. It was silent but for his breathing and the man who was kneeling in front of him talking softly. The man eyed him in concern, his green eyes narrowed.

“Who…” Steve finally croaked out, still having difficulty catching his breath. He felt like he had just run a marathon, like he was still small and thin and not tall and muscular. Not Captain America.

“I’m Harry. Nice to meet you, Steve.” Harry stared at him then Steve watched as he slowly reached out, placing a hand on his own chest. “I know, this is all strange and different for you but I need you to breathe. You’re worrying me.”

“And me.”

“Fury, stay out of this. You were the one who thought that that thing back there would work,” Harry retorted loudly, not even tearing his eyes away from Steve. There were a few loud car honks at the disruption to traffic but that fell away as Steve focused on Harry.

Steve glanced down to where Harry had his palm on Steve’s chest, his thoughts flashing to when Bucky did this, before Steve had submitted to the experiment. He focused on the hand on his chest, the warmth that it brought while still looking into Harry’s eyes. The man in front of him was worried but calm, quiet and understanding.

“That’s it,” Harry whispered, breathing in and out visibly. “Good man.”

Steve sighed out in relief as his heart slowed and his breathing evened out. He studied Harry, taking in the man’s short but wild, black hair and green eyes. The scar on his forehead interested him, the shape of it unusual in that it looked like a lightning bolt. The branches of the scar forked downward, stopping right at the top of the bridge of Harry’s nose.

Harry would probably be a good subject to draw and Steve filed that thought away for later.

And… “What…”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin and dipped his head in a nod. “It’s just a temporary silencing ward. You ready to face the new world? Or do you need another few minutes?”

“I… A ward?”

“Wizard,” Harry explained, looking at him thoughtfully and giving him a hand up. The ward… or whatever had been keeping the noises at bay vanished and the honking, yelling and the city noises all came back gradually. “Come on. Fury, what the hell were you thinking?”

Steve watched as Harry started to yell at Director Fury.

“I really am in the 21st century.” Steve looked around at the city that he had grown up in, spotting the biggest tower in Manhattan. It had the name Stark on it in great, blue letters. The cars were definitely bigger, more streamlined. He idly wondered if there were cars that could fly, like the one that had briefly flown at the World Fair back before Bucky had gone to Europe.

“Steve?”

He turned back to look at Harry, seeing that the two men had stopped talking.

“Fury here wants you to be Captain America again,” Harry said, his green eyes narrowed. “Join a team and everything. Apparently leaving no time to acclimate.”

“A team?” Steve repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t Captain America a little old school now?”

Harry snorted. “I don’t know about old school since I only just came to this world a year ago but you could do some good. I read about what you did in the war. If this world is like my world in terms of history and people, you could definitely make a difference.”

Fury was about to say something when Harry glared at him, effectively shutting him up.

“When you said wizard…” Steve trailed off, staring at Harry curiously.

“I’m just a consultant right now,” Harry explained, shrugging. “No interest in the hero business but it’s your decision. And we should probably get off the street in the meantime.”

 




Harry sat down on the chair in the corner of Fury’s office thirty minutes later, watching as Steve sat down in the opposite chair. They were the only three in the room, as Coulson was off in New Mexico dealing with whatever was happening down there.

“It would be best if he stayed here,” Fury spoke, sitting down at his desk and placing a few files in a drawer. “We can keep an eye on him better.”

He can probably think for himself,” Harry replied, turning to look at Steve and watching the soldier. Steve’s hands were clenched into fists and his breathing was slightly fast but Harry wasn’t too worried. It would be a lot to take in, for someone to sleep for 70 years and then be found in the ice.

Steve looked between the two of them, his blue eyes dull with the pain of losing friends. “What’s the other options?”

“Other options?” Fury questioned. “There are no other--”

“You can stay with me,” Harry offered, looking Steve over. He wondered if Steve had had a girlfriend or even possibly a boyfriend back before the war or during the war. Harry had read the Captain’s files before Fury had made the decision to keep Steve at SHIELD while he woke up. Dr Erskine had chosen well in picking Steve. There probably wasn’t a more attractive man to be found. “I have a home in Manhattan that’s not too far from here and Stark tower.”

Steve looked at him and their eyes caught. Blue met green. “Alright. I’ll stay with you, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Harry answered.

 




“I know it looks big but I have my bedroom and my office on the second floor,” Harry remarked, as they stopped before the front door of the brick house. Steve looked the home over, seeing the two garages and the two floors. “You can have the guest room and stay as long as you like. We’re near a few of the public beach park and you can easily follow the signs for that.”

Harry placed a hand on the front door and Steve saw a flash of blue then the door swung open, admitting the two of them in before closing on its’ own. “Did SHIELD give you any sets of clothes or anything?”

“Just the shield,” Steve replied, looking around the living room. It was wide open, with floor to ceiling glass windows at the far end. There was a big TV in the center of it on the wall to their left and the dining table was at the far end of the room.

“Jarvis?” Harry asked.

“Clothes are on the way, Harry.”

Steve startled a little at the voice that seemed to come from the ceiling. “What…”

“Stark’s homecoming gift,” Harry explained, his lips twitching up into a small, bemused grin. “I had gone to London a few months ago and when I got home… Jarvis was all installed in the home. I’m not complaining, by the way.”

“Duly noted. My creator thanks you.”

Harry snorted, turning to glance at him. “Jarvis is an AI, artificial intelligence?”

“Stark, as in…”

“Tony. Howard and Maria were killed in 1991,” Harry said. “Tony is the hero that everyone calls Iron Man.”

 




Harry got up early the next morning, grabbing out the ingredients for pancakes and settling in to cook. He was supposed to be at work at 9 but he wanted to wait for Steve, make sure he had a good night’s sleep.

He had just put in a stack of pancakes into the oven to keep warm when the back door in the kitchen was pushed open. Steve stumbled in, shirtless and sweaty. Harry’s eyes widened a little, seeing the haunted look in the man’s eyes and walked towards him, careful and slow.

“Steve?”

Steve started a bit, staring at Harry. “Harry?”

“Go for a run?”

Harry reached out, grasped one of Steve’s hands and tugged him over to sit at one of the chairs at the table. The man was warm but not too overly warm. Not feverish. One of Steve’s files said that he hadn’t gotten sick at all after taking the serum.

“Didn’t think you’d get sweaty,” Harry whispered, his heart skipping a beat, as Steve focused on him. “You up for breakfast?”

“I’m here,” Steve murmured, sounding out of breath, like he had just run a mile really fast. “Not back there.”

“No. It’s April 15th, 2012,” Harry said, walking back over to the oven and pulling out the plate of pancakes. He lay the plate on the table and finished cooking a few more, waving his wand at the syrup and butter to float them onto the table. “Eat up. I don’t make pancakes often.”

Steve stared at him then slowly started to grin, grabbing up three pancakes and picking up the syrup. “What else can you do?”

“I can transfigure things,” Harry started, taking a bite of a pancake. “Heal. Curse. Hex. Apparate.”

“Apparate?” Steve echoed, his eyes lighting up as Harry talked.

“Teleport. It’s just what wizards call it,” Harry offered, closing his eyes at the taste of warm, gooey pancake.

“What did you mean by curse? I can imagine a great deal of things.”

“There are several different curses and hexes and other offensive spells,” Harry said, watching as Steve finished off a fifth pancake. “You really eat a lot, don’t you?”

Steve looked up at him, his cheeks reddening. “It’s the serum.”

“Understable. My werewolf godfather used to eat a lot after the full moon,” Harry remarked quietly, memories flashing through his mind of Sirius and Remus.

Steve’s eyes widened. “You had a werewolf for a godfather? Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”

“And you’re the expert on werewolves?”

Steve let out a small laugh and Harry grinned. “I’m not. So you had a werewolf for a godfather.”

“Well, more like he was the husband of my godfather. My parents had been killed when I was one and a half so I was really close to them both.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Steve replied, staring at Harry worriedly. “How…”

“Murdered. But that’s all taken care of now. What about your parents?”

Steve froze. “I… My mother was the best mom that I could ever have. Sarah Rogers. I miss her.”

Harry sighed, finished off his last pancake. “I have to get to work in a few minutes but Fury said that they would send an agent for you. You’re already clued into the wards so don’t worry about having a key, okay?”

“Where do you work?”

“Children’s hospital,” Harry replied easily. “I like helping people.”

Steve nodded, looking at something past Harry. Maybe memories. “I do too.”

 




Steve stared at the punching bag in front of him, memories flashing through his mind. He could feel each punch, each time he connected with the bag. Everything just went away as he moved, the SHIELD agents around him vanishing from his mind and eyesight.

The hum of the HYDRA vehicles surrounded him and the zaps of their weapons as they shot American and British soldiers hovered over him like a black cloud. The screams of the victims of Hitler’s Holocaust rode wildly through his mind. That day he and the Commandos had liberated one of the concentration camps.

He punched even harder, the bag swaying before him.

The Germans bombing London. Losing Bucky on the train. Losing everyone while he slept.

“Steve!”

His punches grew sloppy with what felt like sweat and he swung harder, deeper only for something to catch his hand midair. Something caught him and it wasn’t another person. It felt like Harry’s magic, power, warm and familiar.

“Steve. Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

The sound of screaming came louder and he could see the emaciated prisoners of HYDRA’s research lab where he had found Bucky.

“Hey.”

A hand slowly but carefully dropped over his eyes, warm and gentle. “Steve. You’re not in World War II anymore. You’re not there.”

Whatever was holding his arm broke away and he felt an arm wrapping around him. The hand was still on his eyes, the thumb stroking his temple. Lips pressed to his forehead briefly before disappearing.

“Harry?”

“Oh, Cap,” Harry whispered, his green eyes soft, finally removing his hand from Steve’s face.

Steve let out a gasping exhale and leaned into Harry, as the other man put his other arm around him. Some part of him realized that Harry was not having any difficulty holding him. Other sounds started to filter in and he looked around the big gym hall around him. All of the SHIELD agents that had been in here when he had arrived were now all gone.

“I’m okay,” Steve finally said, his words muffled as he tried to make himself smaller, enjoying being wrapped up in someone’s arms again. Harry was wearing the dark green shirt again, the one that brought out his eyes.

“Alright,” Harry murmured.

“Who called you?”

“Fury. I was just about to meet with one of my patient’s parents,” Harry said quietly, his fingers rubbing circles on Steve’s back.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. The parents understood,” Harry replied, pulling back a little bit and looking him over. “You look like shit.”

Steve snorted. “It’s been two weeks since SHIELD found me.”

Harry flicked him on the forehead, his green eyes amused. “Steve. You have me. You have the whole of SHIELD and when you meet Tony, you’ll like him.”

“I wish Bucky were here or Peggy…” Steve trailed off, sighing.

Harry’s eyes softened. “Have you gone to see her yet?”

Steve shook his head. “They say she’s got dementia. I wish she had gotten some of the serum too. The tests that SHIELD has run on me say… that I might never age or grow old.”

“Then we take this one day at a time. You go take some art classes. And… you know how I said you have me?”

Steve nodded.

“If you really aren’t going to age or grow old… I don’t either,” Harry remarked, pushing some of his hair back from his face. Steve stared as Harry made a motion with his fingers and magic flowed and then disappeared, causing Steve to see Harry’s pointy ears.

“What.”

“I’m an elf. High elf, to be exact. Last of my race,” Harry said, peering at Steve as he spoke. “I don’t age either.”

Steve continued to stare at him. “How come I didn’t see…”

Harry grinned wryly. “I don’t trust very easily.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “That’s why… you didn’t have trouble holding me up.”

Harry blinked but nodded. “Yes.”

“What else can you do?”

“I’m stronger than regular humans, faster too. Rather like you, I suppose, but definitely not as strong as you. You’re taking this well enough.”

“I’ve seen you do a lot of things in the past few weeks, Harry. And I just came from World War II. Who knows what else the 21st century has in store for me?”

Harry laughed and studied him for a second then leaned into press a kiss to his mouth then pulled away.

Steve froze, his heart racing.

“Was that…”

Steve leaned back in, touching his lips to Harry’s and groaning as Harry shuffled closer, closing the distance between them.

 




Harry grinned into the kiss, trailing his fingers over Steve’s bare skin. Steve wrapped his own arms around Harry as they moved together.

“What about…” Steve trailed off on a moan as Harry dug his fingers into Steve’s hips and pulled him closer.

“Warded the room,” Harry reassured. “Cameras are not working and agents can’t get in.”

Sweat dripped down his back and forehead and he could feel himself harden in his workout pants as Harry traced his fingers down his chest. Harry placed a kiss on Steve’s collarbone, licked a path up his throat and ended up at his mouth, licking his way in. Steve let out a whine and pressed a kiss onto Harry’s shoulder, feeling his heart race even more.

“Good thing you’re shirtless,” Harry muttered.

Steve let out a strangled gasp as one of Harry’s hands moved downward, trailing down under his pants and opening them up. One of Harry’s legs slotted between his and Steve groaned, digging his nails into Harry’s back and sucking a kiss into the crook of Harry’s neck.

Harry let out a groan as he finally wrapped a hand around both of their cocks. Steve whimpered at the wonderful touch, arching his back as pleasure flowed through his body, coiling at the base of his spine. Harry moved his hand up and down, squeezing a little and stroking here and there at the tip before Steve let out a yell, his release barreling through him. He heard Harry come as well and closed his eyes as he felt his knees buckle, his toes curl at the pleasure.

 




Steve woke up with his head in Harry’s lap, fingers stroking through his hair. He couldn’t feel any sweat or release on him, figured that Harry had cast a cleaning charm on them both. He slowly looked up at Harry, seeing the man smile at him.

“That was nice for you too, right?” Steve questioned, peering up at him.

Harry snorted, leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I enjoyed it too, Cap.”

Chapter Text

It was the thunk on Harry’s front porch that made him leave his potion’s room, the sparking of his holly wand that alerted him to the person in front of his door. He had just started a potion a few minutes ago, a potion that would ease the pain of childbirth. One of the local villagers was pregnant and had come to him for help with it.

He blinked, peering through the house and to the front door, wondering who it was this time. The wards around the wooden home lit up in warning, indicating that it wasn’t someone he knew. And given the fact that he was in territory that was divided… He would rather be safe than sorry. The home wasn’t much but it was his. His and Hedwig’s. The owl swooped in from an open window in the hallway, hooting quietly to him. “Hey, girl.”

They had ended up in this world a few months ago through a spell that one of the last Death Eaters had cast towards him and Hedwig. They had appeared in the Earth Kingdom, one of four bending nations, in one of the smaller villages. Everyone that he had met had wondered if he was an earth bender or a fire bender but he was neither. Nor was he an air bender or water bender. He hadn’t even heard of any kind of bender but when he saw one of the villagers bend some earth, he had been amazed.

Ever since, Harry had been awed at all four bending techniques, though he had never seen an air bender or a water bender. Had learned from the village people around him that the Airbenders were all gone. That the fire nation had killed them all a hundred years ago. Hunted and killed all of Air Nomads because of a potential savior. The Avatar.

Hedwig hooted again, this time wary, and drew him out of his thoughts.

“Alright. There’s someone on the porch?”

Hedwig dipped her head in a nod and led him over to the door, landing on the perch closest. Harry felt the elder wand fit itself into his palm as he saw a few sparks of flame beneath the door. “Firebender?”

He slowly opened the door, hearing it creak, and peered out to look. The late afternoon sun shined on the horizon, not too bright but not too dim, not just yet. His eyes widened as he looked down at the young man on the porch, the man who looked to be the same age as Harry, maybe 17 or 18. The guy looked to be wearing a set of clothes that did not match, marking him as a refugee most likely. Most of the villagers that Harry had come to know wore clothes that were of Earth Kingdom colors. The guy had black hair that looked uncut and ungroomed.

The guy also had two swords strapped to his back, twin broadswords that looked very well cared for. The steel in the hilts glinted in the late afternoon sun, shining for all to see.

Harry’s eyes were drawn to the scar on the young man’s left eye. The scar covered the skin around the eye and it looked like it had been a very bad burn. He idly wondered how the guy had gotten it but stopped his pondering when the guy groaned. Harry knelt down to look the guy over, noting the rips and tears in the brown tunic and the blood splatter.

The sound of running made him look up again, only to see one of younger women in the village stop a few feet from his porch.

“You’ll take care of him, won’t you? He’s from the Fire Nation. I would mend his wound but...”

“I’ll do it,” Harry responded, glancing down at the guy again. “Is everyone okay?”

“It was just him.”

The woman ran off, ducking through the trees and around the boulders. Harry returned his gaze to the guy on his porch then sighed, flicking his fingers and watching as the young man rose up into the air. “Hedwig, could you keep watch? There might be more people coming into be healed though I didn’t hear any screams or yells. Perhaps it was just him.”

Hedwig hooted quietly, dipping her beak in a nod, and flew over to perch on the porch railing. Harry grinned, walked over to stroke her feathers, and turned back into his home. He floated the Fire Nation guy into the healing room, where he kept his healing supplies, and placed the young man on the metal table in the center. “What happened to you? I wonder…”

He busied himself with getting bandages and potions and creams before he summoned a chair over to the table. He cast a diagnostic charm as he slowly and cautiously pulled the guy’s tunic up, peeling the material off the skin from where it was already drying. It looked like a big boulder had crushed the guy’s ribs but he couldn’t… “Where is that blood coming from?”

The guy groaned again and finally opened his eyes, showing off almost golden eyes, that seemed to glow in the sun. “Who… are you?”

“Harry. Who are you?”

“Lee. What… What’s going on?”

Harry eyed the guy as he was looking for another wound, one that was open and streaming blood. He heard the slight hesitance when Harry had asked for his name, guessed that ‘Lee’ wasn’t the guy’s real name. But he wasn’t about to prod; the guy was entitled to his secrets, as long as none of them would hurt Harry. He hovered his right hand over the guy’s side, extending his magic in waves into the guy, looking for any holes or leaks. “You are injured.”

“Yes, I am aware of that. What happened?”

“You tell me,” Harry offered, raising an eyebrow. “I’m going to have to move you onto your side, hold on.”

“Move me? What do you think you’re doing??” Lee grumbled, frowning at him.

“Healing you,” Harry retorted, noticing when Lee’s eyes widened as he saw Harry’s scar. He knew no one would recognize him here, a whole world away from the wizarding world. Perhaps it was because Lee had his own scar. “Just a moment.”

Lee cried out, his voice rough and tight with pain. “Are you a water bender?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Harry asked, whispering the levitation charm again and gently pulling Lee onto his side. Lee was warm, almost fire warm as Harry touched the skin of his arm. It was almost like there was a sun within Lee, just burning to get out. “Ahaha. Tergeo.”

The blood over the wound on Lee’s upper back vanished, letting Harry see the small, roughly circular wound. It was between Lee’s shoulder blades, precariously close to his spine.

“What… What was that?!”

“Just cleaning the blood off,” Harry said, placing his wand against Lee’s back, against the wound that looked like it came from a knife. “Vulnera Sanentur.”




 

 

Zuko blinked again as the foreign energy encompassed him, the coolness of it rubbing against his back. The skin on his back tingled as he felt a tip of something wooden come up against his back. Whatever bending the man was doing, Zuko had never felt it before. Not from Katara or Aang or Iroh. It certainly wasn’t fire bending. It didn’t feel burning hot like other firebenders did to him.

He heard the guy whisper the same two words again and his skin tingled even more, moving. “What are you doing? What kind of bending is that?”

“It’s not bending,” Harry remarked, removing the wooden whatever it was from Zuko’s back. He felt himself move back down to the table and his eyes widened as he fully processed what Harry had said.

“What do you mean it’s not bending? If it’s not that, then what is it?” Zuko grumbled out, feeling the same wooden thing land on his side again. His ribs were flaring with pain since that Earth bender had thrown a huge boulder at him. He supposed someone had seen him fire bend and had taken out their anger on him. Someone who could earth bend.

“Magic.” Zuko heard the young man whisper another strange sounding word and his ribs cracked. Coldness invaded his chest and he could feel the tingly sensation wrap around his ribs. Both sensations disappeared within minutes and took with them the pain. His ribs no longer hurt and nor did his chest. The hand that had been exerting pressure on his side to keep him down vanished and he could feel the exact place where it had been, a slight warmth.

“Magic. What does that mean exactly?” Zuko questioned, as he slowly sat up to get a glimpse of the man that had done something to him. Maybe he really had healed him. Harry… Zuko wondered where he was from. He was wearing loose clothes but not… There was nothing that indicated that he was from an Earth Kingdom village. Harry wore a dark green shirt and black pants.

“It’s a kind of… energy, I suppose,” Harry remarked, as soon as Zuko finished sitting up. Harry’s green eyes were looking at him with intent, some kind of emotion that Zuko had only seen on Iroh’s face. Perhaps it was concern or curiosity. “Let’s me do things that I wouldn’t be able to do normally. You should get some rest, stay a while. I can cook dinner for the two of us.”

“I’m healed? Just like that?”

“Yeah? I can’t say anything about emotional health and I assume you’re running from something-”

“I don’t need your pity or concern,” Zuko growled out, narrowing his eyes as Harry stared at him. “Or your help. Where’s my ostrich horse?”

“You had… It was probably taken. Look, I don’t pity you or anything like that. I just healed you because it’s the right thing to do. Stay here or not but your body is going to need to rest at some point.”

Zuko watched as Harry crossed his arms, his green eyes flashing with warning. “I’m not running from something. I need to be going.”

Harry blinked then his lips twitched up into a slight grin. “Fine. Walk on out of the house.”

Zuko huffed out a low breath then swung his legs off the table, stood up. He was fine for a second or two and then his legs trembled, his knees buckled and the wooden floor raced towards him. Or would have if Harry hadn’t caught him. Arms came around him, holding him steady. His heart skipped a beat at having arms around him, circling his waist and his back. He felt… safe?

“I will refrain from saying ‘I told you so’,” Harry muttered, before helping him back onto the table. “Just barely though.”

Zuko snorted, his anger at his situation abating somewhat at Harry’s tone. It was somewhere between teasing and exasperated and Harry’s accent was definitely one that Zuko had never heard before. “I get the feeling that you say that a lot.”

“When I have impatient patients,” Harry said amiably, his lips twitching up into a bemused grin. “Stay. I’ll cook dinner and go find out where your ostrich horse was taken.”




 

 

Harry opened the gate to his house an hour later, holding the reins of Lee’s ostrich horse. The animal had been taken from Lee when everyone had seen him firebend and then a few of the men who could earth bend had gone after Lee. Harry wasn’t particularly surprised about it, knew that pretty much everyone around here had seen firebenders kill or attack people they loved or destroy property.

He walked over to the side of his home and tied the ostrich horse’s reins to a hitching post, made sure the wards were still up, and ambled over to the front porch. Lee was sitting on the porch in a cross-legged position, eyes closed in what appeared to be meditation. Harry still wondered where Lee’s burn scar had come from but he wouldn’t pry.

“Dinner should be ready in a few minutes,” Harry finally spoke, after watching the young man for a bit.

Lee nodded and didn’t otherwise comment.




 

 

Harry brought out bowls of stew, hearing Hedwig come around from the back of the house to join them. Lee looked up at the owl, raised an eyebrow.

“Her name is Hedwig,” Harry offered quietly, handing one of the bowls to Lee.

“She looks like she’s just an owl.”

“She is just an owl,” Harry replied, peering at Lee in amusement. He had gotten used to people being very surprised that Hedwig was just an owl here. He had yet to find animals that were just one species. There were ostrich-horses, eel-hounds, badger-moles, chicken-pigs and so many other animals that were split species. “And my friend.”

Lee blinked and watched as Hedwig flew over to land on the porch between them. He took one of the bowls of stew, started to eat. “Your magic…”

“I’m not from around here,” Harry replied, leaning against the railing as he ate.

“Not from the Earth Kingdom?”

“A bit farther out. I had never heard of any of the four kingdoms here,” Harry explained, shrugging. Hedwig hooted quietly as the three of them watched the sun finally vanish beneath the horizon, meanwhile taking bites of the stew. “I just stepped into a mystical doorway and arrived here.”

Lee turned to look at him, studying him. “Mystical doorway? Do you mean the spirit world?”

“Spirit world?”

Lee frowned. “You’ve never heard of the spirit world or any of the four kingdoms.”

“No. At least, not before I came here. As I said I come from a bit farther out. Where I came from, there were no benders or ostrich horses or anything. There were just wizards and witches and plain, old regular animals.”

“You said wizard. Tell me what that is.”

Harry wrinkled his nose at Lee’s insistent tone but explained anyway. “That’s what I am. A wizard. Someone who has magic. I can cast spells or charms or hexes.”

“Show me.”

Harry glanced around, studied the wards around his home, before casting the patronus charm. He held out his holly wand, whispered the incantation. Prongs leapt out of his wand, bright and glowing, and loped around the front yard before returning to the front steps.

“Just showing you off, Prongs,” Harry whispered, before looking at Lee’s reaction.

Lee’s mouth was open and Harry watched as he inhaled deeply, his shoulders dropping in relaxation. Lee put down his bowl of stew on the wooden porch and reached out his hand towards Prongs and his fingers went right through the stag.

“What… I feel…” Lee trailed off, his mouth shutting on whatever he was about to say.

“Patronus. They’re wards against dark creatures, at least in my world. They can be messengers too.”




 

 

Zuko stared at the bright, transparent deer in front of him. Warmth, safety and security radiated off of the deer and he could feel his whole body relaxing. “This is… magic?”

“It’s a spell,” Harry murmured, gesturing to the deer. “The magic comes from me. My scar… it’s from a dark piece of magic.”

Zuko eyed the scar on Harry’s forehead, noting the shape of it. The lightning bolt forked downward, pointing towards Harry’s green eyes. “Who… who did that to you?”

“My mortal enemy,” Harry offered quietly. “He’s dead now though. Who or what caused your scar?”

Zuko turned away from Harry, looking towards the village that he had passed through. The moon had come up in the few minutes they had been talking and the stars were shining brightly. He wondered where the Avatar was, realizing that he hadn’t thought about Aang since he had met Harry. Hadn’t thought about his father or his sister either.

“I’m sorry if that’s too private. You should probably get some sleep,” Harry said, interrupting Zuko’s thoughts. “Come on. You can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“I should go.”

The moon and stars were bright enough that he could see by them. The deer had vanished while Zuko had been lost to his thoughts.

“I know you can firebend,” Harry spoke, catching Zuko by surprise. “The villagers said as much and I can sense the fire within you. If it’s that you’re worried about, don’t.”

Zuko stared at Harry, glanced to where Hedwig was looking at him with her golden eyes.

“As long as you don’t have intention to harm,” Harry added, his eyes glinting with warning. “But you were just badly injured a few hours ago. Your body needs rest.”

“I’m looking for someone,” Zuko said, weary but not wanting to admit to it. He could hear his father telling him that he was being weak for wanting to take a break in lessons or for saying that they shouldn’t put untrained soldiers on the front lines of the war. He stood up, started to walk down the steps to the yard, when Harry laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Lee, you’re shaking. You’re not weak for wanting to rest,” Harry said, pulling him around.

Zuko stared, glanced to where his ostrich horse was, and turned back to Harry. “Fine. I’ll rest.”

Harry removed his hand and Zuko blinked, turning to look at the spot on his shoulder where Harry’s hand had been. His stomach had flipped in his chest when Harry had touched him, his heart skipping a beat. He looked right into Harry’s eyes, green meeting golden, and nodded.

Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin and Zuko followed Harry back into his home, taking a minute in the bathroom before falling onto the bed.




 

 

Harry woke up in the middle of the night to muffled cries and swung off the bed, standing up and padding into the hallway. Hedwig was most likely out hunting, being an owl, and the sounds weren’t coming from her. He cautiously nudged the bedroom door open, only to see Lee twitching in his sleep. Tears slid from Lee’s eyes.

Harry’s heart ached for his temporary guest and walked over to the bed, shifting shape. When he had first cast the animagus spell, he had been mystified about what shape he had taken. Hermione had instantly known what he was but she had been puzzled too. He was a dragon, obviously, but one of long body and sleek form. He had white horns on his head and big wings, fur down his neck, and four legs. He was almost too big for the room but he made it work, curling his long body tightly. He was an icy white dragon, the color of ice right after a snow storm.

He curled around the bed, leaving a leathery wing to curl around Lee’s form. Lee stilled in his sleep and slowly, but surely fell back asleep after a nightmare.




 

 

Zuko woke up with the morning dawn, got up off the bed, and walked through Harry’s home. The young man, who was perhaps one year older than him, was still asleep on the couch and oblivious to Zuko. He studied Harry briefly, a little bit in awe of him, and then took some food from his cabinets and left, packing his food and swords in a bag and jumping onto the saddle of his stolen ostrich horse.

He steered his mount towards the path he had been taking and spared one last glance to the house. Harry had taken him in and healed him without a second thought. He didn’t even feel like he had been badly injured yesterday. Zuko shook his head at a memory, or had it been a dream? He had dreamt of a dragon but dragons were extinct. His uncle had killed the last one.

He snorted and urged his ostrich horse off, leaving the village and healer far behind.

Chapter Text

 

“Harlan Stark. Heir to Winterfell. Will you be jousting?”

“No. I shall leave that to the southron knights,” Harry spoke, glancing at his two brothers. Their father had taken leave, had gone to talk with Lord Hoster Tully. Howland Reed was sitting at their table, along with a few of the sons of Lord Walter Whent. The tourney at Harrenhal had come at a good time, with Ned having come back from a recent visit to the Vale, and their sister arriving tomorrow, the whole Stark family would be here.

“I hear you’re a good jouster though,” Howland said. “The best of the Northern alphas.”

“He’s good,” Benjen added, looking at Ned for backup. “Mayhaps he’s been training alone at Moat Cailin but whatever he’s doing, it’s served our brother well.”

“The best of the Northern alphas? There’s a lot of alphas to make that number,” Harry retorted, grimacing a little and tugging his fur cloak tighter across his shoulders. He had been going to Moat Cailin but not for the reasons his family thought he was. He had chosen to keep the real reason to himself, as he didn’t exactly want to draw the notice of the royal family. “And what of our quiet wolf, huh? What were you doing in the Vale just this past moon? See a lady?”

Ned’s cheeks reddened as he glared at Harry, who smiled a little. “No. Lord Jon Arryn does not have a daughter, as you well know. In fact, Lord Arryn is looking for another wife.”

“Ah well.” Harry quieted, settling further into his seat at the table in the great hall at Harrenhal. He could see many lords and ladies in the hall, many riverland lords, some westerland lords and some from the stormlands. Lord Walter Whent had indeed set out to host the biggest tourney this year and had sent out invitations to everyone. The crumbling towers of Harrenhal hadn’t dissuaded anyone and Harry could feel the old keep creak and groan with ghosts.

He had kept his ability to see ghosts even as he was reborn as the eldest Stark, the eldest alpha child and heir of Winterfell. Being the Master of Death had benefits but it also had disadvantages, namely ghosts being able to see him as well, if he made eye contact with them. Every keep and castle he had visited since being reborn had its own share of ghosts but none as malevolent as this one.

“I wonder where the king is,” Harry murmured, turning to look at the teen next to him. Harry was ten and 9 while Ned was ten and 8 and Lyanna and Benjen even younger. “There was a great big fuss about him coming to this tourney.”

“You weren’t there when he arrived,” Benjen said, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Benjen was a beta and thus didn’t have the strong senses of an alpha or omega and yet… “He stunk.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Stunk?”

Harry and Ned exchanged glances, with Ned raising an eyebrow. Harry’s second brother was also an alpha but quieter, more stable than most Northern alphas. The Quiet Wolf. Harry had been nicknamed the Strange Wolf, known for his unusual ability to pull back from an alpha rut if he needed or wanted to. His father’s bannermen had also become aware of his comings and goings to and from Winterfell.

“He looked mad,” Howland replied, staring at Harry in idle interest. Howland was the only one who knew of what Harry was truly doing at Moat Cailin, for Harry had asked the Lord of Greywater Watch for permission to use the abandoned keep. “Like the mad Targaryens of history.”

“Mad?” Harry echoed, sparing a look at the platform at the front of the hall. Lord Walter Whent sat to one side of the table on the platform but the seats in the middle of it were set aside for the King and the Crown Prince. “Like King Maegor Targaryen or Queen Rhaenyra? Didn’t the smallfolk call her ‘King Maegor with tits’?”

“You should see him for yourself. His alpha scent…” Howland trailed off.

“What about the prince’s? Didn’t he present earlier this year?” Benjen asked.

“He did. As a beta,” Ser Edmure Tully said as he turned around at the table next to theirs. “There they are.”

Harry turned to the front of the hall, watching as two knights of the kingsguard walked in first. He vaguely recognized Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy before focusing on King Aerys the Second. And Howland was right. King Aerys’ alpha scent was off, wild and uncontained, unchecked. Aerys’ purple eyes were wide, as if he was in an alpha rut right now, but Harry wasn’t able to smell anything like an alpha rut.

Aerys’ long silver hair was matted and his beard looked to be beyond help. His nails were long, uncut, and his skin was pale. Harry had heard from his father that the king hadn’t left the Red Keep since the debacle at Duskendale and this… The king looked mad certainly though he was most definitely not the scariest thing that Harry had ever seen. But Howland had been right. The king did stink.

The prince entered right after the king and was… Prince Rhaegar Targaryen definitely deserved the name, The Silver Prince. Rhaegar looked a prince, looked even more a king than the king did. Rhaegar’s hair was well groomed, the silvery strands reaching down to his upper back. The red cloak around his shoulders billowed in the slight evening wind that came in through the open doors and windows. His purple eyes looked out over the crowd, observing the hall.




 

 

Rhaegar followed his father into the hall, looking out at everyone that was in attendance. It was crowded, every table taken by lords and ladies, by noble born knights and their squires. Everyone from golden haired Lannisters to dark brown haired Northerners had attended. Nearly everywhere he looked, he saw an alpha lord paired with their omega consort or lady.

He was glad of the concoction that Lord Varys had procured for him, the suppressant that would keep him for this tourney. For his father had not wanted anyone to know that the heir to the throne was an omega, was a male omega, even rarer than a female omega. In most locations, male omegas were not given much in the way of protections and rights. But hopefully, when Rhaegar took the throne, he would be able to change that. Granted, if he didn’t find an alpha that would be his consort, his father would disinherit him, would exile him.

His father sat down next to Lord Whent and gestured for Rhaegar to follow with his harp. He had brought it in the hopes of providing music for the lords and ladies of the kingdom. The ladies had always enjoyed his music and some had even teared up. He wasn’t fond of the attention that his music gathered but he did enjoy making music and writing. It distracted him from the tyrant his father had become, distracted him from the overbearing alpha Aerys had become.

His father had tried once or twice in the past year to mate with him, to induce a heat and breed him. Ser Arthur had pulled the king off both times and had had two kingsguard knights stationed with Rhaegar at all times. Of course, his mother wasn’t much help. Rhaella’s eyes had been closed to Aerys’ behavior for years now.

He walked over to his harp, the instrument already in place for the evening entertainment and sat down in the chair provided. The strings were tuned and ready for him to play.




 

 

Harry blinked, silence flowing through the hall as Prince Rhaegar finished playing. Then everyone started to clap, with a few ladies, regardless of orientation, started to cry. He saw at least two male omegas crying as well and Harry could feel a few tears pooling in his own eyes. He hadn’t heard such beautiful music in a long time.




 

 

The next morning, the tourney started. The morning dawned with a crisp scent to the air, a Northern chill blowing through the tourney arena. Rhaegar had woken up early so as to take a walk around the grounds alone, not wanting to talk politics. The sun hadn’t risen yet but there was a slight glow on the horizon, almost beckoning towards him. Rhaegar stepped out of Harrenhal’s keep, seeing Ser Lewyn and Ser Arthur walk alongside him.

He took the path that would lead him out of the castle, stepping through the gate with an easy nod to the guardsmen flanking it. The tents surrounding the castle were many and varied, with the banners of the Vale, the Stormlands, the Crownlands, the Riverlands and some of the North. Colorful banners were strewn all over the castle walls, making the dreary grey stone new and not ruined.

“Did you take your potion this morning before you woke?” Ser Lewyn questioned, as they walked on the outskirts of the camp. Fog hovered over the tents and hid their walk as it curled around them. Rhaegar could even see the Isle of Faces from their position, the small island in the middle of the lake that had seen many rumors.

“I did,” Rhaegar answered finally. “I will have to thank Lord Varys for giving me some.”

“Have any luck finding an alpha?” Ser Arthur asked, his blue eyes narrowed in concern for his best friend. Most members of the kingsguard were either betas or alphas. Omegas couldn’t join the kingsguard, as everyone thought that omegas would be too distracted to guard the royal family.

“No. I don’t know if any such alpha exists,” Rhaegar offered quietly, as they stopped upon a hill overlooking the camps and castle. “Every alpha wants to be lord or lady of a keep or castle. They want to rule if they’re the firstborn. Marrying our siblings has been the best way to do it but I have none and I’m not sure if I want to continue marrying in the old traditions.”

“Do you want us to look for someone?” Ser Lewyn asked, peering at Rhaegar before looking out over their surroundings. “With this tourney, it would be easy enough.”

“I am also here to ask if any lords and ladies would back my claim for the throne,” Rhaegar spoke, sighing and looking over at the castle. “My father has grown too mad.”

“Are you to speak with--”

“Oh, sorry!”

Arthur and Lewyn both dropped their hands to their blades at the man who appeared from the trees behind them. The man stopped where he stood, his grey eyes wide before narrowing a little. Rhaegar took in the man’s appearance, noted the really dark brown hair, dark enough for it to be black, and watched the man take in a deep breath before bowing.

“Your Grace. I’m sorry I interrupted you. Forgive me.”

“You’re of House Stark?”

“Yes, Your Grace. Harlan Stark, at your service.”

“Heir to Winterfell.”

Harlan nodded, standing back up and peering at Rhaegar. “If you want me to go, just--”

“I’ve a mind to talk with you and your father,” Rhaegar interrupted, taking in a deep breath too and noting the alpha scent that surrounded the man. It was cold, grey but… old too. Enticing even through the suppressant. “Walk with me?”

Harlan raised an eyebrow but dipped his head in a nod. “Of course. Whatever I can help with, I will.”




 

 

Harry stared at Prince Rhaegar, seeing the weary, haunted eyes of a young man. He fell into line with the prince and they walked in silence for a few minutes. He didn’t mind the presence of the two knights of the kingsguard behind them, as they shadowed the prince. The sun rose around them and Harry enjoyed watching it rise and enjoyed watching the sun make Rhaegar’s hair glow.

As far as he knew, Rhaegar was a beta so why… It had felt like he had been instantly drawn to the man from happening upon them a few minutes ago.

“I loved your music last night,” Harry offered quietly. “It was beautiful.”

“Thank you. You have two brothers.”

“Yes, and a sister,” Harry added, grinning a little. “And you have a brother?”

“Viserys. Yes. Would you be amenable to hearing me out?” Rhaegar asked, as they stopped again in a small clearing, trees surrounding them.

“I already said yes, Your Grace. What’s amiss?”

Rhaegar studied him then nodded. “I would like to take the throne.”

Harry blinked, remembering what they had heard of the aftermath of the Defiance at Duskendale. The king had ordered the entire family killed and since seeing the king yesterday, had made a lot of people disgusted. That was along with the burnings. Mad King Aerys had burned people to death, burned people who disagreed with him. “You would need to take the throne by force.”

“My father…” Rhaegar trailed off, his voice breaking a little. “He was good once. Now… He is holding something I hold dear.”

Harry stared, taking a step closer to the prince, wanting to reach out and touch, to reassure. The alpha wanting to make sure this man wasn’t hurting. “Your Grace?”




 

 

“I have a secret,” Rhaegar spoke, looking into the other young man’s eyes and feeling like he could trust Harlan. There was something about him, something unusual, ancient. “If I rebel, take the throne, before my father dies, he will…”

Harlan stared at him, took a step closer. “You’re not a beta, are you? And you’re not an alpha. I saw you bare your neck to me just for a second when you saw me.”

Rhaegar’s eyes widened then he peered down at the hill beneath them. Warm, gloved fingers gently gripped his jaw, tipped his chin up. His heart sped up at the touch of the alpha in front of him.

“You’re beautiful,” Harlan whispered. “Is that what your father is holding against you?”

“Omegas can’t rule or hold land.”

“And you have that prophecy. That’s… I understand that.”

Rhaegar stared at Harlan, hearing the new tone in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“If you want to take the throne, your father is going to contest that. Most princes take over when their father is dead.”

Harlan removed his hand, took a step back, leaving Rhaegar wanting. He wanted to step back into the man’s space, wanted to feel his warmth again. Wanted to bare his neck to him, wanted to be claimed.

“I think I have something to help you with… all this,” Harlan finally spoke, studying him then shrugging. “But you can’t get angry. I didn’t show them off precisely because I didn’t want to draw your family’s attention.”

Rhaegar blinked, watched as Harlan stepped back again and whistled. Loudly. Loudly enough that Rhaegar had doubts that it was just Harry whistling.

“What was that for?” Rhaegar questioned, peering at Harry in confusion.

“Three of my friends followed me here,” Harry said idly. “Or I suppose, they traveled to the Vale and stopped there. Of course, I couldn’t bring dragons to a tourney but I don’t think I could have stopped them if I had tried. They think I’m their mother or something. And me, a Stark. Who would have guessed, you know?”

Rhaegar stared and stared some more, blinked. “Dragons.”

“Yes. Dragons.”

Rhaegar was about to say he didn’t believe him, didn’t even dare have hope that someone had hatched dragons. Someone not a Targaryen or Velaryon but then he heard loud thumps. The sun disappeared under a shadow only for a second before returning and then…

His eyes widened at the sight that met him. Three full grown dragons, flying towards them, towards their clearing. One let out a roar and the trees around them shook with the force of it.

“I think it has something to do with my magic,” Harlan explained softly. “I know that. But I have no dragon blood in me.”

The three dragons set down in the clearing, making it seem small in comparison to the great big creatures in front of him. One was all black, a deep black abyss. Another was red, a deep red like the blood that flowed through their veins. The third was an icy white, reminding Rhaegar of the last winter’s mild ice storms.

Rhaegar stared, blinked, pinched himself. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Arthur and Lewyn. Their eyes were wide too, awe and disbelief fighting for prominence on their faces.

The dragons all flanked Harlan, with the dark red one nuzzling into the Stark heir’s back. Harlan laughed, laid a hand on the dragon’s scales.

“The pretty lady behind me is Freya,” Harlan said, after a few minutes of silence only broken by the white dragon roaring. “Frostfyre is the white one and the black one, Balerion.”

“You…” Rhaegar trailed off, his voice shaky. “Would you be my alpha?”

Harlan laughed quietly under his breath, his grey eyes intent on him. “Why don’t we court one another, Your Grace? I will willingly go with you to help you take the throne but I will have to work it out with my brother, Eddard. He will have to be the heir to Winterfell instead.”

Rhaegar nodded, speechless with awe.

“A Stark and a Targaryen in King’s Landing.”

“Ice and Fire,” Rhaegar spoke faintly, finally drawing his gaze away from the dragons to the man in front of him. He took a few steps to close the distance between them and Harlan seemed to sense his intention, opened his arms. Rhaegar stepped into them, warm arms going around him, and melted into the embrace.

A hand coaxed his chin up and Harlan touched his lips to his, pressing into him, surrounding him. “You will have to leave off the suppressants. I would like to be able to taste my mate.”

Rhaegar shivered at the promise in those words and opened his mouth, letting Harlan in.




 

 

“Harlan?”

“Call me Harry.”

“Harry then.” Rhaegar melted, feeling Harry’s arms wrap around him. “What was that about magic?”

“That is a long story,” Harry replied, grinning. “Story for another time perhaps, as we have a tourney to attend.”

Chapter Text

Stiles watched as Gerard tortured Erica and Boyd, watched as the crazy hunter moved towards him. It was just the four of them in the basement of the Argent’s house, with him, Erica and Boyd chained up. None of the other hunters had batted an eyelash at bringing Stiles in.

“A human member of the pack… You’re Scott’s friend, aren’t you?” Gerard questioned, holding the electrified taser in his hand. “Why would they keep you around, huh? Are you someone special? What would Scott do to get you back, I wonder? What would Hale do?”

“Hale? He’s not even part of our group. And who says I’m human? I could be the abominable snowman. It’s not totally out of the realm of possibility,” Stiles retorted, trying to keep from flinching as Gerard moved even closer towards him. At least he had given a break to Erica and Boyd, who were halfway shifted from the pain. “I could even be stronger than the werewolves.”

“You can’t even get out of those cuffs,” Gerard spoke, sneering at him and reaching towards Stiles and tased him.

Electricity ran through his body, making him scream out. The nerves in his body flared with pain and black spots hovered in his vision as his heart beat like he was running a marathon. His body twitched and swayed in the chains holding him.

“See, you’re human. Nothing special about you, other than your loud mouth,” Gerard said. “You can’t do a thing here and I hold a special dislike for humans that aid werewolves. They’re just as bad.”

Gerard tased him again and Stiles tasted blood, as he bit his tongue to try to hold in a scream. He twitched and writhed uncontrollably, going lightheaded with the pain. He heard Erica and Boyd cry out, trying to get Gerard to stop hurting him.  Just as he was about to pass out, black spots covering most of his vision, pain hurtling through his body, energy coiled within him burst outward. It was an energy that he had felt his whole life but he thought it was just due to his ADHD. Whatever it was burst outward, like the result of a bomb, and coiled around him. It was glowing white and moved with much speed as it passed through Gerard and throughout the basement, growing bigger each minute.

Gerard screamed and dropped. The chains holding Stiles up broke with a clink and he dropped like a stone, exhausted and hurt. Blood dribbled out through his mouth and his heart continued to beat quickly.

Erica and Boyd, whose chains had broken in the blast, both ran over to Stiles, ignoring Gerard’s body. Boyd inhaled deeply, smelling Stiles’ scent, realizing that it had changed sometime in the past few minutes and gently picked him up. Derek would want to know what had happened.






Stiles startled awake, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his back. He had fallen asleep shirtless, with only worn and comfortable sweatpants on. His heart was racing, his mind still caught in the nightmare, still thinking that he hadn’t been able to escape Gerard. The older man’s words stayed in his mind, pain following them.

The human member of the pack…

Something had awoken him and it wasn’t his own mind.

Something thumped against the upper pane of his window again and he half thought he saw glowing eyes, the werewolf eyes. But it wasn’t… The morning was clear and the sun not all the way up in the sky yet. The window was open, letting in the cold air of the winter morning.

The ringing of the doorbell drew him out of his thoughts and he ran a hand through his sweaty hair. It was longer than he was used to, having not gotten it cut for a while. Not since… the whole werewolf thing had started. Not since he had gotten kidnapped by Gerard Argent. He heard someone ring the doorbell again,and glanced at the clock, dimly realizing that his father had an early morning shift at the station. It was 6am and Stiles knew it wasn’t a werewolf on their front porch. None of the werewolves knocked or used the front door. Though Scott did but he hadn’t come around as often as he usually did.

Stiles slowly crept out of bed, pulled on some thick socks and padded down the hall and staircase. He peeked around at the hallway that led to the front door, trying to get a glimpse of whoever was on the other side from the side window. If it was Gerard... But then again… Stiles let out a huff of breath, unaware of how exhausted he sounded. That hunter wouldn’t ring the doorbell.

He walked over to the doorway, his stomach rumble, before sighing and opening it.

“Scott! If you want help-”

Stiles froze, his shoulders turning inward, and raised an eyebrow, as he stared at the man at his door. The person on the other side of the door was a young man, not much older than Stiles. The guy was maybe 17 or 18, with jeans and a dark green shirt on. If Stiles had been more awake, he would have noticed the guy’s green eyes, noticed the inhuman light in them appear then disappear within seconds. The young man’s black hair was wild, in disarray, but pulled back in a tie.

“Uh, hi?”

The young man in front of them snorted and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Stiles Stilinski. We have much to talk about.”

“What.”

“Right. Sorry about coming this early. I’m Harry. You just woke up, didn’t you?”

“Yeah?”

Stiles watched as Harry’s lips twitched up into a small, bemused grin.

“I did make sure to come on a Saturday,” Harry said, glancing beyond him with an apologetic frown. “Your dad isn’t here, is he?”

Stiles frowned, patting his pockets for his phone, hoping Scott wasn’t too caught up in Allison to check his phone.

“I’m not… I’m not here to do whatever you think I’m going to do,” Harry offered gently, his green eyes going soft with concern. “I’m here to train you.”

“Train me? What the fuck?”

Harry grimaced but then sighed. “You are a spark, a druid without training.”

Stiles continued to stare.

“May I come in at least? I just got here and boy, the traffic was insane.”

“Alright but you try anything… I have a werewolf and a dad who’s a cop on speed dial.”

Harry laughed under his breath. “Okay. My godfather’s boyfriend was a werewolf. I know what they’re like.”

Stiles stepped aside to let the guy pass, glanced out to the driveway and sidewalk in front of their house. There was nothing there, no car, no motorcycle, no clear mode of transportation anywhere. “How did you get here anyway?”

“I flew.”

“You flew to the Sacramento International Airport then drove here?”

“No,” Harry tried, reaching into his pocket to draw out a miniaturized broomstick, holding it out for Stiles to look at. “I flew.”

Stiles blinked then rolled his eyes. “Traffic, you said. Insane, you said. Coffee’s this way.”

Harry grinned a little and followed him in.



 

 

“Close your eyes,” Harry spoke, watching as Stiles looked at him, his brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. They had sat down at the dining table in the kitchen and Harry had made tea for himself while watching Stiles turn on the coffee machine.

“You’re not planning on robbing the house or something, right?”

“No. Besides, I don’t plan on having a criminal record in this world, thank you very much.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. “This world?”

“I’ll explain later,” Harry started, shrugging. “I felt your power a month ago and that means a lot, power wise.“

“Am I really… a druid? I mean… I’m just human. I’m just Stiles, the kid with ADHD. The kid who gets left out of his best friend’s plans.”



 

 

Stiles heard the beeping of the coffee machine, smelled the sweet scent of the coffee. He saw Harry stand up, walk over to the seat next to him and sit down, while making a motion with his fingers. The mug that he had set out for coffee rose up into the air and the coffee pot moved, pouring the liquid into the mug. Stiles’ eyes widened again as he looked between Harry and the mug as it floated over towards him, landing on the table in front of him.

“Close your eyes, Stiles,” Harry whispered. “I’m here for you and only you. Your magic called out to mine last year. It lays dormant but you can wake it up.”

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes. “What am I supposed to be doing? It’s not like I can see anything now.”

“You’re not going to be seeing anything around you,” Harry said, gently. “It’s what is inside you.”

Fingers tilted his chin up and warmth flowed from Harry to him. Sparks of energy flowed between them and then it felt like he was falling inward. He screamed and felt someone grab his hand. He looked to his right to see Harry standing right next to him, holding him steady as they floated in what looked like an abyss.

“What… What the fuck?”

“This is your mind,” Harry offered. “Look up.”

Stiles stared at Harry, the other young man staring at him expectantly, then looked up, his mouth dropping open. “What is that?”

There was a glowing, golden ball of something at the top of this white abyss. It sparked and swayed at his words, a strand of it flowing down to him.

“That,” Harry started, watching him, watching the ball of something.

Stiles let out a strangled gasp as the strand of whatever it was stopped, hovering above him. He reached out a hand, palm up.

“That is your magic,” Harry finished quietly.

Stiles froze, turned to look at Harry incredulously. “What.”

“That’s your magic.”

The golden strand of light hovered over his palm then fell onto his skin, warm and comforting.

“You mean…” Stiles trailed off, staring at the thing on his palm. “I really am a druid?”

“Yes. Or at least one in training,” Harry said, his tone content and quiet.

Stiles blinked.

“And you’re here to train me.”

“Yes.”

“Are you a druid?”

Harry sighed, shook his head. “No. I’m a wizard. They’re a bit different, relatively speaking, but we both have magic, we both were born with it. Though wizard magic does not lie dormant for people like me.”

Stiles nodded, transfixed on the glowing ball of his magic. “What does yours look like?”

“Mine…” Harry trailed off and Stiles turned to look at him.

“Mine is green and black,” Harry said. “Shit’s happened, in other words.”

Stiles snorted. “Oh, I understand that feeling. How do we get out of here?”

Harry held out his hand, palm up. “Once we’ve settled into your training a little bit, I can teach you how to come here and check on your magic. For now, if you want to, you can ask me and I can escort you into your mind.”

Stiles took it and closed his eyes as Harry sent them both out of his mind.



 

 

“Where are you living right now?” Stiles asked, watching as Harry stood in the doorway.

“I have a tent,” Harry replied idly. “Motel rooms are dicy.”

Stiles stared. “Must be some tent.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a grin. “You want to come see it?”

 


 

 

“You sure you aren’t just teaching like Yoda?” Stiles grumbled a week later, as he sat down in the grassy clearing. Harry had led him into the forest that surrounded the Hale property this morning, had said something about transfiguration and learning about the Earth. He blinked his eyes open to look at his teacher, to where Harry was sitting on a relatively big rock in front of him.

“Yoda?”

Stiles stared at Harry, seeing the other young man’s eyes narrow a little in confusion. “You’re kidding.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What’s a Yoda?”

“What was your childhood?” Stiles groaned out. “No one I know right now has seen Star Wars except my dad. Ugh.”

“My cousin saw Star Wars,” Harry remarked, his lips twitching into a frown. “And then played Harry hunting after he finished that one time.”

Stiles winced, trying to imagine a game that went by that name. His image wasn’t pretty. “Well. Way to make this awkward.”

Harry snorted. “It’s fine, Stiles. It’s been years since I’ve seen Dudley. How about we watch one tonight? It’s probably about time I saw them.”

“Can we watch it in your tent? If we watch it at my house, Erica, Boyd and Isaac will want to come in and they’re already too personal spacey, if you know what I mean,” Stiles grumbled, closing his eyes at Harry’s gesture. “Alright, I’m ready. Teach me the thing.”

Harry let out a surprised laugh then cleared his throat. “Okay. Druids need a close relationship to the earth. They need to feel the space around them, the energy if you will. Place your hand on the ground.”

Stiles placed his right hand onto the ground, relaxing a little, and reached out.

“Your magic should be easy enough to call on,” Harry continued, his voice a little amplified, almost like it was being projected. “Breathe and imagine yourself flowing like water into the ground.”

“Like water?”

“Smooth… almost like you’re reaching into the ground.”

Stiles reached out, feeling the dirt, rocks and dry leaves beneath his hand, and let out a gasp. He took a breath and a deeper one, his world decreasing until it was only him and the earth. He reached within, touching on his magical center, and reached out to grab a strand of his magic. The golden ball of his magic surged towards him at his thought and then he opened his eyes. Glowing lines ran beneath him and around him, some almost light as the sun while others were dim. As he watched, some lines came out of his body and ran into the earth, looking like he himself was making connections to the ground and to the earth.

The sun was brighter, so much brighter, as the very air currents around him glowed. The trees glowed with life and their own energy. He could hear the creek that was just a mile away, at the very edge of the Hale boundary, and hear the eagle crying out above him like it was right next to him. He could even hear Harry’s heart beating but very faintly, going thump, thump, thump… He could smell the dryness of the leaves and smell something that was wet dog but had more… wildness to it. Stiles figured it was werewolves. The predatory scent of them was all over the reserve, wildness and lingering predator smell.

“How… what?”

“This is the purest state a druid can be in,” Harry spoke quietly. Stiles could hear something else in Harry’s voice, something like awe and perhaps surprise. “You’re glowing.”

“What.” Stiles blinked and lost the enhanced senses, lost his concentration. Harry was looking at him confusedly, his eyes a little wide and his green eyes curious. Stiles glanced down at himself, brought up his hand and his jaw dropped. “I am glowing.”

His skin was glowing a light gold, thought not too bright, not bright enough to cause him to shield his eyes. “Why am I glowing?”

“You’re more powerful than I thought. Your grandmother wasn’t kidding.”

Stiles stared at Harry, gaping at him. “My… What are you talking about?”

“I was sent here… Your grandmother asked me to come and teach you,” Harry explained steadily, dipping his head in a nod. “And yes, I know she’s dead. It’s a part of what I can do, talk to long dead people. She said that you would be powerful enough to require a teacher as powerful as I am.”

“But… she’s…” Stiles trailed off, thinking of his grandmother on his mother’s side. “She was a druid?”

“Yes.”

“She sent you here… to teach me?”

“Yes. She was rather… insistent too. Said you would get in too much trouble to not be trained.”

Stiles felt his cheeks redden, his heart race at Harry’s knowing smile. “That’s me. I’m a trouble magnet.”

“I know the feeling,” Harry offered, grinning a little.

“You can talk to dead people? Oh, we so need to watch The Sixth Sense!” Stiles exclaimed, then shook his head. “Star Wars first though.”



 

 

They finally had a Star Wars marathon a few days later, alone in the house on a Friday evening. Harry had been introduced to John, Stiles’ dad, before the older man took off for a shift at the station. He had said that he was a recently graduated high school student from Beacon Hills but he didn’t know if John had taken that explanation easily or not.

Harry sat on the corner of the couch, with Stiles sitting a few inches from him. He could feel the younger boy’s magic and sense it all through the house and it had become familiar to him, easily enough like Hermione’s or Ron’s. He watched as Stiles gestured animatedly with his hands, ranting about the Sith and Jedi, about the prequel trilogy. Harry grinned, watching Stiles more than the movies at this point.

The empty pizza boxes sat on the floor between them and the tv set and the moon shone through the windows. Stiles hadn’t once been uncomfortable with his presence, hadn’t once stared at him like Harry didn’t belong here.

The third movie ended with a quiet, haunting piece of music and by then Stiles had moved so that he was propped against Harry’s shoulder, his brown eyes drooping with exhaustion. Stiles was powerful in his own right but it would take a while to fully train his power. They hadn’t even moved onto runes and wards and Stiles had said that he would like to learn how to heal first, to better take care of the stupid alpha werewolf.

Harry snorted quietly, summoned the remote and turned off the tv. “Someone might think you have a crush on the stupid, alpha werewolf.”

Stiles muttered sleepily and Harry smiled, curling an arm around him and lifting.

“Of course, I might also have feelings for you,” Harry murmured idly, as he carried his druid up the stairs and turned left, stepping into Stiles’ room. “Star Wars, werewolves, magic… The Boy Who Lived and the Boy who Cared.”




Stiles blinked awake the next morning, breathing heavily. Last night was blurry but he did remember Harry saying something about feelings and... His eyes widened as he remembered. Harry... had feelings for him! He glanced down at himself, half expecting the morning wood he had woken up with. The sun shined through his window and he could see Harry’s tent through it, the tent placed right smack in the middle of their yard. He groaned as the slightest movement of his body sent jolts right to his cock and he checked his door, thanking whatever god that it was closed, and then reached down.

His hand slid underneath his boxers and the slightest touch sent sparks of pleasure throughout him. His heart began to race and he could feel drops of sweat dribbling down his forehead and onto the sheet. His world narrowed to the bed underneath him and his hard cock as he stroked.

A strangled groan drew his attention to the open window and he whipped over to look at Harry, who was standing at the window and looking at him. He had on a shirt and jeans but looked like he had just woken up too, his hair in disarray. His green eyes were wide and Stiles saw him lick his lips.

“You… uh… want some help with that?” Harry questioned, slowly moving into his room.

Stiles whined and his hand moved over his cock, pre-cum already leaking from it. “ Please .”

“Your dad home?”

Stiles shook his head, watching as Harry walked over to the bed and kneeled over him, adding his hand to Stiles’.  When Harry’s hand touched his cock, a spark raced through his body and he bucked up into Harry’s hand, moaning at the touch. Pleasure built at the base of his spine and his toes curled with it. His magic ran wild throughout his body and Stiles clenched at the sheets underneath him. Harry grinned, reached his other hand over to grab his, as his other hand began to speed up, stroking Stiles’ cock, twisting and Stiles came, pleasure bursting through him.

 



“Good thing today’s Saturday,” Stiles murmured, blinking his eyes open and yawning.

Harry let out a quiet laugh, his fingers running through Stiles’ hair gently. “Yeah.”

Chapter Text

They didn’t even make it to the bed after coming back from the hunt, sweaty and tired. The sun was starting to fall, shining dimly through the windows in the hallway of the motel they were staying in. There was blood on Sam’s shirt and at this point, he didn’t particularly care. As soon as Harry closed the door behind them, Sam turned around and pressed his boyfriend back into the door with a thump.

Harry groaned into the kiss and curled an arm around his neck, nipping and licking his way into Sam’s mouth. “Hungry, hmm?”

Sam let out a strangled whine as Harry’s hand started to tighten around him, pushing him forward a little towards the bed. “ Please.

Harry grinned and slipped off his shirt then helped Sam to slip his off, throwing both dirty shirts away. “It was a good hunt, wasn’t it?”

One of Harry’s hands moved down to Sam’s bare chest, backing him up until his feet hit the bed. Sam hurriedly peeled off his dirty jeans as well, slipped off his boots too. He went with Harry’s next push and fell down onto the bed, spreading his legs to let Harry sit between them. His heart was beating fast and his cock was already paying attention as he watched Harry strip the rest of his clothes off too.

“Got you all hot too,” Harry remarked, sitting up and leaning over him, pressing his lips to his while his fingers traced light paths over his chest. Sam shivered with it, heat coiling through his body as Harry moved. A strangled whine left his throat as Harry thumbed over a nipple, dropping down to lick the hurt.

Pleasure built at the base of his spine and he arched up into Harry’s hand as his fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking once, before disappearing. “Fuck… Harry!”

Harry smirked down at him, his eyes wide with arousal, before he flicked his fingers, catching the tube of lube as it floated into his palm. “You can wait.”

Sam groaned, wrapping an arm around Harry’s back and tried to yank him down into a kiss. Harry trailed featherlight kisses down his chest, their cocks rubbing together slightly and making Sam gasp out. His toes curled with it and he felt his heart race and sweat dribble down his forehead as Harry moved downward, licking as he went down.

His heart beat so hard that he only distantly heard the snap of a tube opening and then a finger breached him. Sam whined, squirming around on the bed, as Harry opened him up, first with one finger and then two, crooking in just the way to hit the… Pressure coiled within him, burning through him as Harry hit the spot again. His cock ached with it, growing harder with each motion.

He felt Harry reach up, smoothing away the hair on his forehead and kissed him, peering up at him. “Ready?”

Sam nodded, not quite trusting his voice now. Harry moved back down, sheathed himself in one fast movement. Sam cried out at the sensation, the fullness of Harry being within him. Harry’s eyes were wide and his mouth was just slightly open, his tongue peeking out. Heat licked at his body and Harry thrust deeper, hitting the spot that sent pleasure riding through him. Harry pulled out, the sweet, wet feel of it and Harry immediately thrusting back in sent Sam over the edge of release.

He saw Harry shudder as he writhed with the pleasure, rocketing all the way through his body. He sighed out as Harry came too, still in him. “Good boy.”

Sam whined, his heart skipping a beat and his cheeks reddening at the words, as Harry slowly pulled out, falling over to lay next to him. His breathing evened out as Harry curled an arm around him, fingers lazily etching circles on his side.

The knock on the door broke the easy silence and he groaned, closing his eyes briefly in irritation. “Don’t want to get up.”

Harry snorted, poked him in the chest. “Lazy hunter.”

Sam sighed, the words reminding him of his brother. “We still didn’t get anything from the demon we ganked.”

“Another time, Sam. We’ll get him out of hell,” Harry whispered, sitting up and laying a kiss on his forehead before reaching out for a shirt. There was another knock at the door and Harry muttered out a curse under his breath. “I’m coming!”

“You don’t sense anything?” Sam questioned, drawing up the covers. “Because the patterns really-”

“I don’t sense anything,” Harry replied, shrugging and standing up. Sam watched him walk over to the door before throwing his arm over his eyes. He heard the motel room door open and Harry say something before trailing off. A long, familiar voice jolted him to sitting up, his heart skipping a beat at the words.

Sam hurriedly swung his legs over the side of the bed and rushed over to the door, his eyes wide and his heart racing… Dean stood at the door. His world dwindled to his brother and the demon who had stolen his shape. In the next minute, Harry was holding him back, his arms around his waist, whispering words into his ear.

“It’s really Dean,” Harry whispered, tightening his hold on him. “It’s really him.”

Sam’s anger deflated at his boyfriend’s words and Harry loosened his arms, letting him go a second later.

Dean looked at the two of them with wide eyes before grinning towards him. Bobby stared at Harry and then glanced to Sam, his eyes narrowing. “Heya, Sammy.”

Dean.

 

Chapter Text

 

Harry was 15 when he got the name on his wrist, amidst the dreams of Nagini and nightmares of Voldemort coming back to life. It appeared on the morning after his first detention with Umbridge, right as he was coming awake. He blinked awake to a burning sensation around his wrist, yelping at the abrupt pain.

“Mate? Harry?”

His heart beat so quickly, fast enough that it sounded like the only thing he could hear, as whatever was happening ran its’ course. Sweat poured down his back and forehead as his nerves finally stopped flaring with pain and he blinked open his subconsciously closed eyes.

“Harry?”

“I’m… okay,” Harry called out, sitting up and glancing down at his left wrist. “I think…”

“You think?”

Harry stared down at his wrist, the one that he held his wand in, and peered at the markings that had appeared. They were black markings, curvy and beautiful. The markings circled his wrist all the way and didn’t look like anything he recognized though… They kind of looked like a language to him but the markings weren’t any language he recognized. Perhaps Hermione would know what they were.

He traced them with his fingers, revealing smooth skin, and then opened the curtains on his bed, seeing Ron standing in front of them. “Have you ever seen this happen?”

He held up his hand and Ron’s eyes widened as he peered at the markings.

“No. What… Was it a spell?”

“No. I just woke up.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed in confusion before he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s ever happened? I can ask Bill or Charlie but they’ve never… Hermione would know.”

Harry nodded, swinging his legs off the bed and going to use the bathroom, glad that it was a Saturday.




 

 

“I have not been able to find a single thing about that marking,” Hermione said, her eyes narrowed in irritation. It was a week later and their friend had spent all of her spare time in the library, trying to locate a reason or source for Harry’s markings. “It’s definitely a language. You were right about that but… why you have it on your arm… I just don’t know.”

“Have you tried getting rid of it?” Neville questioned, glancing over to them as he put food onto his plate for lunch.

“I asked Pomfrey and she said she knew of no way to remove it,” Harry said, shrugging and taking a bite of food. “We’re just looking up what it says because what if it’s a curse or hex or something new from Voldemort that’s going to kill me? Because it’s me!”

Hermione and Ron stared at him before going pale.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Hermione whispered. “But if it were that, wouldn’t it have done something by now?”

“I don’t know. There’s nothing to compare it to!”




 

 

During Christmas break, he finally found a book that had the language that the markings were in. He brought the book with him to Grimmauld Place and took some time to look through it, a mug of hot chocolate on the table beside him.

Harry made a noise under his breath, flipping to the page number in the book he was looking through and feeling his heart beat quickly. He had finally found the language his markings were in, finally found a dictionary that had the exact language. It was in ancient Gaul, the language that people had spoken in Western Europe during the Iron Age before it had gotten invaded by the Romans.

There had been many Celtic tribes that had lived in the area during that time and the tribes had been slaughtered by Julius Caesar and his predecessors. Harry stared down at the markings on his left wrist, traced his thumb over them idly as he flipped through the pages. He wrote down each mark or inscription as he found the translation, noting that each part of the marking on his wrist were letters. G, O, D, R, I, C. Godric.

Harry stared down at the translation, short as it was, and then slouched deeper into his chair, lost in thought. Why did he have a marking on his wrist that spelled out Godric? Did it mean Godric Gryffindor or someone else? Godric Gryffindor was long dead so that probably wasn’t it. Did it mean that whoever this other Godric was was connected to him? And him to Godric?

Or did it mean… Harry sighed. There were numerous possible meanings for the black marking on his wrist. Why him? Did Fate just like screwing with him? Here he was just a week after he had saved Arthur’s life just because he had had a dream from Nagini’s point of view and Voldemort was back.




 

 

Harry took a deep breath, sighing in relief as he looked down at Voldemort’s body two years later. He rubbed his fingers over the name on his left wrist idly, wondering again where the Godric of the markings was. Everyone cheered around him and Ron and Hermione ran over towards him, smiles on their faces and in their eyes. Though there was more relief and exhaustion in them than in everyone else.

Later, much later, he would talk with them, tell them he was feeling… off, like he was missing something. Would tell them he had died at Voldemort’s hands and come back. Two days later, he would go to Gringotts and withdraw every single gold and silver piece that was in his vault and other vaults that he owned.

Over the past two years, he had gotten into the habit of tracing the markings or rune letters on his wrist and had… gotten some comfort from it. Even if whoever it was was long dead. He wondered… A week later, one of the last Death Eaters spelled a killing curse towards him and he died, only to wake up several minutes later, not a hint of injury or bruise on him.

He woke up in an unfamiliar yard, the house in front of him even more unfamiliar. It was dark, the moon and the stars shining down on him brightly on a cloudless night. The air was slightly cool, if a little humid. His trunk was right next to him and he quickly peeked into it, looking at all of his belongings and money from Gringotts bank. Harry raised an eyebrow, remembering thinking of whoever Godric was in his last moment of drawing breath.

He was still breathing right now, his heart still beating and yet he was alive. Harry closed up his trunk, miniaturized it and tucked it in a pocket, the elder wand almost humming within his other pocket. His holly wand was tucked into his right hand and it sparked while the markings on his wrist seemed to glow silver in the moonlight.

He stood up, brushed off the dirt that had clung onto his jeans, and looked around, hearing voices through the open windows of the big manor in front of him. Harry started towards the manor, idly reaching out with his magic and finding multiple vampires. The beings that were in the manor all felt… dead to him, which was a new. Or perhaps it was due to having died just a few minutes ago.

As he grew closer to the manor, he saw a man just appear out of nowhere on the front porch of the home. The guy was… quite something, tall and handsome, pale and blonde. He almost looked like one of the Vikings Harry had seen in pictures in a few of the books he had flipped through, just in more modern and… revealing. Harry’s heart skipped a beat and then started to race at the image of the guy in armor and a fur cloak. Definitely a vampire and definitely someone he wouldn’t say no to.

As if the guy could hear him, he turned around, all graceful movements, to look at Harry, who raised an eyebrow. The man was on the front porch one minute and the next was right up in Harry’s space, peering at him, a curious gleam in his eyes.

“And who would you be?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Harry said, looking the man in front of him over. He wasn’t overly scared of a vampire, regardless of the man apparently being able to walk at an inhumanly fast speed. He had been more scared of Voldemort and his power though… Harry was now perhaps stronger than Voldemort, given his just dying a moment ago.

The man was looking at him like Harry was about to become dinner and then his eyes landed on the markings on Harry’s wrist and stopped there. There was almost an imperceptible stillness to the man and then Harry was suddenly picked up and run with into the house, zooming past everyone else. It left no time for him to do something about being handled that way but he figured wherever he landed, he would be equipped to handle it.

“Put me the fuck--” Harry stopped mid exclamation as he gathered his bearings and stared at the vampire in the chair in front of him.

“Eric?”

The vampire behind him spoke in another language entirely, one he recognized from the book, but Harry wasn’t paying attention to it. His world had narrowed to the vampire in front of him, to the young man who looked to be still in his teens. Harry himself was 18 and had grown out quite a bit since the beginning the war but he had the sense that this young man was much, much older than just a meager 16 or 17.

And… the markings on his wrist were warm, really glowing now. He glanced down at his left wrist, at his wand hand, and then over to the young man sitting in front of him.

“Godric?” Harry tried, his voice unintentionally shaky and his heart beating fast.

The young man’s brown eyes narrowed, lighting up a little with interest. “Who… Harry?”

Harry nodded and the young man- Godric - jolted up, and took a step to close the distance between them. Harry looked Godric over, noting the short dark hair and brown eyes, the loose comfortable clothes, and the little hint of a tattoo on Godric’s chest through the shirt.

“How… What are these markings on my wrist?” Harry finally questioned, slightly bearing his throat for Godric’s perusal. He wasn’t altogether too familiar with vampires but he knew enough from having Remus as a surrogate godfather. “How do you know my name?”

Godric’s eyes narrowed before he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the tattoo that Harry had glimpsed and another, this one over Godric’s heart. This one was in Latin and he had enough familiarity with Latin to know it was his own name. Harry’s eyes widened and his hand reached out only for him to drop his arm by his side. Probably most vampires wouldn’t like strangers just touching them willy-nilly.

“They are soulmarks,” Godric spoke, his voice soft but firm and… awestruck. Godric said something in Swedish to the vampire behind Harry and he heard a soft whistle of air. Without having to look behind him, Harry knew… Eric was gone. “Many people have them in today’s world.”

“I…” Harry trailed off, as Godric stepped further into his space and leaned in, almost right at the crook of his neck. Godric’s cool skin brushed against his as the vampire sniffed him, his nose right up against Harry’s skin. Harry swallowed and inhaled deeply, picking up a quiet, coldness and elsewhere, the iron scent of blood. “I didn’t know it was a soul mark. They’re… We’re soulmates then?”

Goosebumps prickled his skin and Godric made a low noise in his throat, halfway between a gasp and a groan. “Yes.”

Godric stiffened and pulled away, took a step back. “I am a vampire. You are mortal.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, pondering Godric’s words, his soulmate’s words. He closed his eyes at the thought and then reopened them. “How old are you?”

“I was made at 16 and that was 2,000 years ago. Most human children receive their mark at 15. How young are you?”

Harry blinked, staring at Godric in amazement. “I’m 18. You’re 2,000 years old? Really? Seriously? You were young when you were made then. My surrogate godfather was young when he turned into a werewolf and he never adjusted. I’m sorry to hear about your origin.”

“You are sorry?”

Godric looked at him curiously then peered at his left wrist, where his mark was. “May I?”

“Of course.”

Harry watched as Godric reached for his hand, grasping it with his own. Godric’s cool fingers traced the markings on his wrist and he raised Harry’s hand to his nose, sniffing again.

“You do not stink of werewolf,” Godric said, his lips brushing Harry’s skin before he pulled away. “But you smell of… power.”

“I…”

“Hold on to that thought?” Godric stared at him, that curious light still in his brown eyes, before racing off in a blur of speed. Harry tilted his head in confusion and followed Godric’s ancient power signature, seeing his soulmate speed into the living room of the manor and with what looked like lightning fast speed, grasped the throat of a woman who looked to be in her early 30’s.

“Retract your fangs.”

Harry watched, enchanted, as the woman did just that with no arguments or complaints. There was another woman behind her, blond and younger and definitely human amongst the vampires. Now that Harry looked, the group of beings were mostly vampires, with a few humans.

Eric raced over to stand right next to Godric, looming over the two women, ready for anything. Another man, a vampire, hurried over to the younger, human woman’s side, wrapping her up in his arms.

“I neither know or care who you are. In this area and in this home, I am the authority. Do you understand?” Godric questioned, still holding onto the woman’s throat.

The woman nodded, staring at Godric. Her eyes were slightly wide and Harry could see that it was in fear, her shoulders drawn in, and her body so frozen. Godric released her, dropping his arm back to his side, every movement graceful.

“This woman has proved herself a friend to us and you were about to treat her as a child does a dragonfly. Picking off wings for sport. No wonder they hate us,” Godric said, in a tone that sounded to Harry like he was scolding a much younger person even though he looked younger than the woman. Godric was definitely someone to listen to though and Harry imagined him living for 2,000 years as a vampire. Godric would definitely have stories to tell.

“She provoked me,” The woman muttered.

“You provoked me,” Godric pointed out, staring at the woman, a hint of a threat in his voice. “You disrupted the peace in my home. I could snap you like a twig.”




 

 

Godric turned to look at Harry after Eric’s friend had escorted the vampire woman out, expecting his soulmate to have disappeared or to have not existed in the first place. But Harry was still there, still smelling of that foreign power that Godric had never smelled before. He raced back to look Harry over, taking in every feature of his… soulmate.

He had waited for 2,000 years for his soulmate to show up. Had received his mark when he had turned 15, the day after he had been taken by the Roman slavers. And now…

“Are you… leader or something of these vampires?”

“Sheriff. Who are you?”

“I…” Harry trailed off, his eyes widening a little. Godric could hear his heart beating, steady and loud, but not fast, not racing in fear. The scar on his forehead intrigued him, made him want to reach out to touch it but Harry wasn’t his yet, regardless of their soul marks. “Is there… magic in this world?”

“Magic? Is that what you smell of?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, nodded. “I’m a wizard. I…”

“Excuse me, everyone.”

Godric turned around, seeing Isobel walk towards him and Eric in the corner across the hallway. He looked around for the man who had spoken and found a younger human man, a tight jacket on his torso. Harry stepped up to stand beside Godric, eying the man also.

“Everyone, excuse me.”

The vampires and humans in the home all stopped talking and turned to the young man.

“I bring a gift to you from Steve Newlin and the Fellowship of the Sun.”

“Luke…” Jason Stackhouse trailed off at the other young man’s glare, took a step back.

The young man unzipped his jacket, revealing a combination of silver nails and various other silver and wooden implements all wrapped together with a silver chain. Godric could hear Harry’s heart begin to race then his soulmate stepped forward, making a motion with his fingers.

“Harry.”

“He’s got a bomb,” Harry muttered, power flowing around him now in a great flood. Cool power flowed from Harry through the room, zooming towards the man and wrapping around him. A blue shining light encompassed the man and seemed to slide between the man and the makeshift bomb, separating the two. Godric watched as a thin piece of wood slid itself into Harry’s left palm, the hand that had Godric’s name written in soul ink.

Silence filled the big living room as everyone turned to stare at Harry, ignoring the guy with the bomb. Godric grinned, the knowledge that his newfound mate could protect himself filling him with pride. The bomb disappeared with a soft chime and the man was just left standing there, amongst many angry vampires.

The quiet twang of an arrow being released filled the air and Godric immediately moved in front of Harry, looking towards the suddenly shattered windows. He distantly felt pain spreading from his waist up and his fangs dropped down, along with the fangs of every other vampire in the home.

“Godric!” Eric yelled, racing over to him as Godric’s feet buckled. Arms caught him and he looked up into Harry’s worried green eyes.

“I’m fine, Eric. Go get the humans. Bring them to me.”

“Bullshit,” Harry muttered, as they both watched as Eric zoomed after the crossbow wielding humans. “You need blood and I’ll remove the arrow.”

“I am fine,” Godric repeated, as Harry lowered him down to the chair nearest them. Harry’s warm arms surrounded him and his human soulmate knelt in front of him, looking down at the arrow protruding from Godric’s waist.

“Godric, you are not fine,” Harry echoed, crossing his arms. “I know healing magic but--”

“I don’t need--”

Harry glared at him and Godric frowned, unsure why the human in front of him cared. “I am taking that arrow out and giving you some blood.”

“I do not need your blood,” Godric remarked. “I am old.”

“I am not losing my soulmate when I just found him!” Harry retorted, yanking the arrow out quickly enough that Godric didn’t feel it. “I didn’t even know I had a soulmate, Godric!”

Godric stared at Harry, blinked once as Harry palmed the thin piece of wood again, pointed it at his wrist and whispered something under his breath. The scent of blood filled the space and Godric was drawn to Harry’s right wrist, the skin that had just been cut open, blood sluggishly pouring out of it. Harry held it up and raised an eyebrow.

“Godric…”

He peered at Eric, who had returned and was holding the two culprits in each arm. “My childe…”

“If he is your soulmate…” Eric trailed off, setting the two men down.

“Go to Hotel Carmilla. Tell Isobel and have them raise their security,” Godric suggested, his eyes caught on Harry and the blood dripping from his wrist.

“The humans?”

“I’ll deal with them,” Harry said, gesturing with his hand behind him. Magic once again flowed from him and Godric saw the two humans freeze, a red light covering them then sinking into their bodies. “They’re fine for now.”

Eric dipped his head in a nod and then zoomed off to go tell Isobel his orders.

Harry’s wrist was still dripping blood in front of him as the house quickly emptied out. “Godric?”

He slipped off the chair as soon as every vampire and human had left and stared right into Harry’s almost glowing green eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Godric reached out to bring Harry’s wrist to his mouth, his fangs still down, and licked up the few drops that were just about to fall. The blood dripped down his mouth and he groaned at the taste of power and energy and life . It almost tasted like how Sookie smelled but far greater.

Godric heard Harry groaning as he slipped his fangs into the cut, sucking up the blood. The richness of the blood filled his body and healed the wound from the silver crossbow arrow and slacked his thirst very well. He heard Harry’s heart beat slow and he took one more deep swallow and then pulled away, licking the wound and watching it close.

Harry blinked at him then reached into a pocket to pull out a vial of some dark liquid. Godric watched as he drank all of the liquid in it and color returned almost immediately to Harry’s skin. His heart sped back up to a normal speed and Godric let out a deep sigh, feeling the powerful blood flow through his body.

An arm curled around his waist and pulled, leaving them to lean against each other’s foreheads. Godric could tell that Harry was slouching a little in order to stay like this but he did not care.

“Sorry about leaving you alone for 2,000 years,” Harry whispered, his heart skipping a beat loud enough that Godric heard it.

“You came. That is enough for me.”

Harry grinned. “Besides, I think I just traveled between dimensions and I don’t want to be alone.”

Godric blinked and pulled away a little, looking at Harry curiously. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means I was in my home… dimension before I--” Harry stopped mid sentence, his lips twitching up into a small, exasperated smile. “I’m not mortal anymore by the way. But where I was… There were not a lot of vampires and they certainly weren’t out of the coffin, so to speak.”

“A human who is not mortal. I wish to learn of your history,” Godric remarked, standing up and pulling Harry up with him.

“It’s certainly going to be a lot shorter than yours,” Harry said, a teasing grin on his face.

Godric let out a quiet laugh. “We have time.”

“Yes, we do.”

Chapter Text

“The Targaryens are coming north. I need all the men capable to follow me. Brother, would you join me?” Torrhen Stark glanced at his younger brother, Prince Harlan Stark, and watched as his brother dipped his head in a nod. It was snowing around them, little flakes of moisture falling onto saddle blankets and cloaks and then melting. It had been a mild winter but one no one would forget. The Targaryens and their dragons had landed in the south.

The sounds of men and horses getting ready to march filled the air, horses whickering and shields being locked into place. Swords went into sheaths and men started to march, some horseback while others were on foot.

Torrhen’s brother, Prince Harlan, rode his black direwolf, Godric, ahead of the line of men and horses. Torrhen remembered the very day that his brother, only one year younger than him, had come back from north of the Wall with a pup in his arms. It had made the various lords of the north amused at first, to see the literal mascot of House Stark. Direwolves had come and gone past the wall but this was the first time that someone had carried a pup within his arms.

The wolf was larger than a pony, about six feet in height and sturdy. Harry was thus far called the Stark’s wolf rider, and had as much as respect as his brother, the King in the North. The wolf used no bridle or halter, just a small saddle for Harry when it came to long distance running.

Torrhen was glad that Harry was coming with them, for if it did come to battle with this Aegon Targaryen, than Harry would be a formidable ally. He watched as Harry and the wolf galloped ahead, going to scout around the Neck.




 

 

By the time that they reached the Trident, Torrhen could see the vast army of Aegon Targaryen. Word must have reached the recently anointed King of Westeros of their coming. It was growing on dark, the sun lowering down in the sky. The chill that had followed them south was still in the air, faint flakes of snow falling onto their shoulders as minutes passed. “Brother! How many men do they have?”

Harry cantered over on his wolf, the gleaming red eyes of the direwolf unnerving him a little, and reached for a flagon on his saddle. Torrhen figured it was water, for his brother never drank ale. “They have more than ours, that I know. I kept out of sight and reach as I scouted south of the trident and they have all three dragons with them. Balerion, Meraxes and Vhagar.”

“Can you do something to them?”

Torrhen glanced over at his bastard brother, Brandon Snow, who had ridden over while their other lords were talking amongst each other.

“You are a warg.”

“Possibly. But I saw the ruins of Harrenhal,” Harry reported, his grey eyes narrowing. “If I fail, I do not want to bring harm to our men. I also do not have the same connection with the beasts like I do with Godric.”

“I could kill them,” Brandon said, his eyes gleaming with interest. “At night. They wouldn’t even know what happened.”

“I know you’re a good hunter, Brandon,” Harry remarked, glancing at their king. “It might not be enough.”

Godric let out a low growl in his throat, the sound reverberating throughout the field. Some of the horses nearby whinnied fearfully at the wolf but otherwise didn’t move.

Brandon and Torrhen’s horses didn’t even react, as used to their brother’s mount as their humans were.

“I would do it from afar with bow and arrow,” Brandon suggested, gesturing to the trees around the bank of the Trident. “We can see the dragons from here even.”

“You had better use strong arrows, if you do,” Harry remarked, raising an eyebrow. “The beasts are big and strong, their hide even more so.”

“I do not want another Field of Fire,” Torrhen finally spoke, looking to his brothers. “No one is killing the king’s dragons. Harry, you said you weren’t seen.”

Harry shook his head. “I took precautions.”

“Good. I will assemble three maesters and I want you to cross the river and treat with this king,” Torrhen said, looking over the river to where Aegon Targaryen and his wives were standing. “Treat with him and see what will be done.”

“Shall I appear by myself?”

“No. Go as our wolf rider.”

Brandon grinned. “Oh, how I wish I could watch their faces.”

Harry matched their half brother’s smile, as Godric turned to face the river. “I admit to being intrigued by the man.”

Torrhen rolled his eyes, knowing of his brother’s desire for knowledge. And his magic. He watched as his brother dipped his head in a nod then patted Godric’s neck, the wolf turning his head to look into Harry’s eyes. The wolf and man had a special connection, one that Torrhen could only imagine.




 

 

Harry kept an eye on the dragons as he and Godric crossed the Trident, the direwolf wading into the water underneath him. The water was shallow in this point only and at the Twins, causing Godric no big effort to cross.

The three maesters behind him crossed with easy effort too, their eyes wide as they took in Aegon’s army. Harry could hear them whisper between each other, their thoughts on Aegon taking both sisters to wife and the dragons. Marriages between sisters and brothers was sin in the Faith though Harry had heard that the High Septon had not denounced the king.

The dragons were huge things, almost seeming to be the size of houses. Balerion the Black Dread. Vhagar, her scales the color of blood. Meraxes with her silver scales and golden eyes.

Godric bared his teeth and growled as they jumped up onto the bank, no fear in the direwolf’s mind that Harry could feel. Only the urge to protect his rider and friend, his pack. Harry took in the sight of Aegon Targaryen and his two wives, Rhaenys and Visenya.

Visenya had Dark Sister at her hip and Aegon wielded Blackfyre, whereas Rhaenys did not have a sword. Though with Meraxes at her side, Rhaenys was far from harmless. Balerion and Vhagar were next to Meraxes, flanking the Targaryens.

Aegon stepped forward as Harry and Godric came to a stop a few feet away. The simple silver circlet atop Aegon’s head indicated royalty and Harry appreciated the simplicity of it. His own brother had a rather heavy crown, the Crown of Winter. Aegon was a mystery to him, his short, silver hair and purple eyes, standing there, with the stance of a king. A man who expected other men to bow to him but also… apart from his sisters, apart from his men. Harry knew of only one friend of the man, Orys Baratheon, who was rumored to be the king’s bastard brother.

Orys Baratheon had become the Lord of Storm’s End, after Storm Queen Argella Durrandon had been surrendered to the Targaryen forces.

“And who might you be?” Aegon asked, the first person to speak. “You who ride a wolf.”

“Direwolf, your Grace. Godric’s a direwolf,” Harry offered, dismounting from his friend’s back and patting his thick fur. “I am Prince Harlan Stark, brother to the King in the North, Torrhen Stark.”

“Direwolf?” Rhaenys echoed, her long silver hair unbound and fluttering in the wind.

“Not just a regular wolf, Your Grace. They live north of the Wall,” Harry explained, watching as Aegon’s eyes narrowed.

The king took another step forward and Harry realized they were of the same height.

“They’re bigger than common wolves,” Harry said, still staring into Aegon’s purple eyes.

“I can see that! He’s beautiful!” Rhaenys exclaimed, taking a step in following her brother-husband. “As big as a horse too.”

Godric grumbled, closing his lips over his teeth as Rhaenys took yet another step forward.

“Will he let me close?” Rhaenys questioned, looking at him and sparing a glance to Harry.

Harry turned to look at his friend, catching his red eyes. Godric looked at him, the wolf’s red eyes glowing almost in the moonlight, and finally deflated, shaking out his fur and unpinning his ears. He could feel the king’s gaze on him, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He could even feel the faint magical aura coming from the three Targaryens, the almost unearthly power that came from dragonlords.

When he had been reborn here, he had been glad of the complete range of magic. Westeros was just full of it, circling around the godswoods in the north to the giants beyond the wall and now the dragons. The dragons were creatures of magic all on their own, wild and ancient and predatory but utterly loyal to their riders. The magic was almost suffocating but Harry loved it. Each dragon had a magical bond with their Targaryen rider, unseen to non-magical people but very much lit up in his vision.

“You can come forward, Your Grace. He won’t hurt you now,” Harry said, watching as the king’s younger wife walked up, slow but there was eagerness in her footsteps. Meraxes dug her claws deeper into the dirt and followed her rider, smoke coming out of her mouth. Visenya dropped her hand to her blade, her hard eyes looking at him, watching if he was a threat.

Rhaenys’ eyes lit up as she closed the distance and held up her hand, palm up, and waited. Harry nodded in approval, guessing that the Queen had experience with approaching potential wild animals. Godric took a step forward and nosed at Rhaenys’ palm, sniffing her skin, before chuffing and giving her a lick.

Rhaenys let out a laugh, her smile wide and pleased. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Godric. It’s a pretty name.”

“What of your king?” Aegon questioned, his eyes catching Harry’s.

“What is the reason you have come?” Harry asked, gesturing to the army behind the Targaryens. Cavalry and infantry were spread out around the river banks, their backs to the riverlands. None of them were wearing thick cloaks or tunics or anything even remotely warm. Harry had the thought that none of them were prepared to go north for an extended invasion, just like he vaguely remembered Germany trying to invade Russia back in his first world.

But then again… they had dragons. If they chose to, they could burn the north’s castles and armies to a crisp. Harry would not let that happen, even if he had to use his magic to do it. Besides, he wanted to meet the dragons, not kill them. And he figured that they had the same idea, with Balerion was staring at him curiously.

“There will be but one king in Westeros,” Aegon stated, his voice firm and steady. “Not seven. Not two. One.”

“What will my brother be? He is king now. If we submit, bend the knee, what happens to us?”

“Your brother will be my Warden of the North and will guard the north for me. The wildlings are a threat, are they not?” Aegon questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Your mount came from beyond the wall.”

“The wildlings are a threat, yes. There are also pirates and occasional raids from the ironborn,” Harry remarked, watching as Rhaenys stepped back to stand next to Visenya, her sister-wife.

“I would like to see this Wall,” Aegon spoke, staring at Harry intently, his purple eyes giving nothing away. “With your permission?”

Harry blinked. “Now, Your Grace?”

“After your king either bends the knee or decides to fight.”

Harry nodded, turning to the maester that held a raven on his arm. “Send a raven to my brother, with the conditions.”

 


 

 

Aegon watched as the northern prince sent word to his brother, tucking the letter within a raven’s claw. The bird flapped up into the air and flew back across the river to where the northern army was encamped. He turned his gaze to the prince and his mount, the big direwolf that reached up to his rider’s shoulders. The wolf was a beautiful animal, his wet fur still soggy and shining under the moon’s glow.

The prince himself was beautiful, in a cold way. His dark hair was wild about his head, untamed like a wild direwolf, and his grey eyes were narrowed in thought.

Prince Harlan Stark turned back to catch Aegon’s eyes and they looked at each other. He could even feel Balerion’s curiosity through their bond, wanting to know who this human was and what the power around him was. Yes, they could both sense the energy around the Stark and he was very sure that both his sisters and their dragons could sense it.

Perhaps when he invited the prince to come with him to the Wall, he could question him about it.




 

 

Finally, as the sun was rising on the horizon, Aegon watched as King Torrhen Stark crossed the river. The King in the North was wearing his crown, a heavy piece of metal and iron that was unlike Aegon’s. The man was wearing a heavy fur cloak and a direwolf brooch pinned it to his upper chest.

Prince Harlan Stark and his mount stood before Aegon, waiting for his brother, and occasionally glancing at Aegon. The man’s magic was powerful and Aegon wondered what it would look like when the man used it. He wondered why Harlan had not used it yet.

King Torrhen Stark stopped a few feet in front of Aegon, catching his eyes, before kneeling. Aegon heard a sharp inhale from the prince as his brother slowly took off his crown and offered it to him.

“Your Grace. My kingdom is yours,” Torrhen Stark stated, looking up into Aegon’s eyes unlike the other men who had knelt to him. This northern lord looked him straight in the eyes, unafraid.

Aegon reached out and grasped the man’s crown and handed it to Visenya, who dipped her head in a nod then went back to Vhagar. Rhaenys and Visenya both went to their dragons and mounted, taking off to fly back to King’s Landing.

“My lord, you will be my Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell. Guard the north well.”

Torrhen Stark knelt a king and rose a lord, sparing a look to his brother, who had just become a brother to a lord and not a prince.

Aegon’s men and armies behind him turned around, marching back south.

“My lord, if you can spare your brother, I would like to visit this Wall,” Aegon remarked quietly, looking at his Warden of the North. “I have not seen it yet.”

Lord Stark’s eyes widened minutely but he nodded. “My brother and I have no other business here. If he is amenable, you can borrow him. The Wall is quite something to behold.”

Aegon looked to Harlan Stark, as the northern armies across the river disbanded too, and studied the man.

“Harry?” Torrhen questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I will be fine. I can show our new king the Wall,” Harlan remarked, his grey eyes softening a little. “I will see you back at Winterfell in a few weeks’ time.”

Torrhen nodded and called for his horse before turning back across the river.

“Harry.”

“It’s what my friends and family call me,” Harlan offered, studying him just as much as he was studying the northerner. “You can call me it, if you like. I want to meet Balerion.”

Aegon’s eyes widened only a little, having half expected something such as this request already. “You have magic.”

“Aye, I do.”

Aegon turned towards his dragon, seeing Balerion walk over to them. “Dragons are dangerous to any other creature but their rider.”

“You have a bond with him.”

Aegon watched as Harry joined him, taking a few steps only to stop a few feet away from Balerion. He dropped his hand to Blackfyre’s hilt and watched as Harry stood there, reaching his hand out slowly, palm up.

Overwhelming curiosity came from Balerion and Aegon’s lips twitched up into a small smile.

“Balerion.” Harry waited, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Aegon was almost entranced, his eyes never leaving Harry as Balerion took one more step before lowering his head down to sniff the man.




 

 

Harry stared right into Balerion’s eyes as the dragon sniffed him, his warm hide and breath warming him up quickly. Balerion’s hide was thick and tough as Harry lay his hand on the dragon and he wondered what it would be like to ride a dragon the size of a one story house.

Godric trotted up to his side, sniffing up at the huge beast in front of them. Balerion just stood there, letting the much smaller creature close.

And just for a second, Balerion lay his head against Harry’s before withdrawing.

“Balerion is curious about you.”

Harry turned to look at the new King of Westeros. Except for the Vale, Dorne, and Oldtown, Aegon ruled over the rest of the country. He stood Harry and looked a king and half dragon himself. Harry had been right in advising his brother to kneel before this man. If it had been anyone else, Harry probably wouldn’t have. This man deserved respect. Aegon the Conqueror. Aegon the Dragon.

And Harry was vaguely sure that his statement about Balerion also counted for the man.

“He tells me he would let you ride on his back,” Aegon remarked, his eyes catching the Stark’s bannermen turning around and heading back to their homes. He could see the banners of House Manderly, House Mormont, House Bolton and Karstark.

“You can speak with him?” Harry asked, looking at him, heat in his grey eyes.

“Yes, it is how our bond works.”

“I would love to ride a dragon,” Harry remarked, lifting his shoulders up in a minute shrug. “I have memories of riding a dragon before but this… Balerion is quite a beast.”

Aegon blinked, watching as Harry whispered something to Godric before looking up at Balerion. Godric let out a low growl, shaking his big head. Harry sighed and turned to his mount, muttering something under his breath.

“Will you let me ride your dragon, your Grace?” Harry questioned, looking at Aegon.

Aegon dipped his head in a nod before turning around and walked right up Balerion’s leg, settling himself on the giant dragon’s back. There was a small crook in between Balerion’s shoulder and neck that let Aegon sit well and he watched as Harry took the same path, walking slowly up the dragons back.

“He’s amazing,” Harry whispered, glancing down at his wolf as he sat down behind Aegon. “Godric’s going to follow us on the ground. He doesn’t think you will let me go afterward.”

Aegon snorted and let Balerion know they were ready. “Are direwolves usually stubborn?”

“I am unsure,” Harry replied, as Balerion stood up on his legs and wing-claws and beat his wings, once, twice. “I have not met a lot of direwolves. I just found Godric as a pup alone in the Lands of Always Winter.”

“You will have to tell me more,” Aegon remarked, as Balerion lifted up into the air, catching a wind drift and taking off. He startled a little as arms came around his waist, warm and unassuming. Aegon wasn’t used to people touching him idly other than his sisters and Orys; many people were scared of him. But the touch did… feel good, all encompassing in a subtle way.

Harry’s answer was lost to the winds as Balerion sped up, flying high in the sky.

 

Chapter Text

“Excuse me.”

The witches continued to talk over him and Harry looked between them, trying to catch their attention. The young man in the center of the field continued to writhe on the ground, sweat pouring over his skin. He was hot, in an American high school football player way, all American and attractive. Harry was only a year or two older than him, 18 and a year out of the war.

The moon and stars shone down on them, lighting up the witch circle that Harry was in, tied to a pole in the center.

“EXCUSE ME!”

Harry knew full well he could get out of this… situation, whatever it was. He just wasn’t too sure what was going on.

The three women in the circle were bickering, power wild and untrained, uncontained as it flew around the clearing. It was unfamiliar power but certainly not… dangerous to him, but it was doing something to the teenager.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Be quiet, warlock. We’re trying to find the stones,” the blonde haired woman finally said, turning to him and then turning back to the young man. “He knows where they are.”

“Looks like you’re torturing him, is what. Torturing or…” Harry trailed off, his eyes widening when the young man’s pants tented in obvious arousal. “Are you guys… Is this even a spell? A… love spell? What in Merlin’s name is going on?”

“How dare you interrupt us. We were just---”

“You summoned me!” Harry retorted, flicking his fingers up and drawing on his magic. He stepped away from the pole, hearing the ropes drop to the ground with a light thump. “The fuck are you doing to the guy? The All American quarterback, which by the way, I have no idea what that means in American football.”

The women stared at him then gestured to the young man. “Get him to tell us where the stones are.”

Harry blinked, looked at the young man on the ground, and then back at the women. They seemed as young as the man on the ground was. “How long have you been witches?”

“Longer than you have, man.”

“Hmmm. You’re not immortal. You all look like a young woman in high school,” Harry said, walking over to the man and stopping, peering down at him. The young man’s blue eyes were bright with pain and… arousal, pupils dilated.

“These are just vessels for us,” the blonde said. “He has the information we need.”

“So… “ Harry trailed off, casting a diagnostic charm on the man and kneeling. He watched as the boy followed his every movement. He noted the high temperature and drew his wand, drawing it through a complicated spell movement while whispering an incantation under his breath.

“What? Stop!”

“He’s burning up! Among other things,” Harry muttered before whispering out the spell to cancel all others. “Finite incantatem.”

Energy flowed throughout the clearing, a slight breeze wound its’ way through the corn stalks. The young man breathed out a huge sigh of relief, his body relaxing, but not all the way. His cock was still hard, apparently not a product of the magic. Though… Harry had seen a lot of different spells, charms, hexes and everything else. For all he knew, there was a spell that produced… arousal.

The witches screamed and their power disappeared while Harry turned to the young man. A few seconds later, three bodies flopped to the ground, the witches gone from their hosts and the women left were unconscious.

 



Clark stared up at the young man in front of him, his heart racing and his breath shallow and fast. He was still hard within his jeans, the witches power still charging through his body. He could hear the wind blowing through the clearing and the cars on the road a mile or two away. He could hear the young man’s heart beating rapidly before slowing after a minute or two.

Thankfully, he wasn’t naked. The witches had progressed that far in their plans, whatever they were. As it was, he felt like taking his shirt off and using it to hide his arousal. It still wasn’t going down, even after the guy did whatever he did to stop the women.

“Who…”

“Harry. The fuck happened here?”

Clark blinked at the guy’s English accent, liking how it sounded in the quiet clearing. He felt like the world was spinning, like how it felt when he was running. He focused on the guy’s heartbeat to calm down, the thump-thump-thump slowly becoming the main thing in his hearing range. “I’m Clark. I… don’t… Nothing happened here. Are my friends okay?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his green eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

“They’re unconscious,” Harry offered, shrugging. “I can’t sense anything amiss right now.”

The strange looking scar on his forehead drew Clark’s gaze in, the raised skin forking outward like lightning. His black hair came down to his chin, strands flying every which way in the breeze.

“Uh-huh. I know magic when I see it,” Harry remarked, crossing his arms. “I am a wizard after all… You need help with them?”

Harry then pointedly glanced down to Clark’s waist and winked at him. “Or I could help with that. I’m not too picky.”

Clark felt his cheeks redden and his heart stopped a for two seconds then restarted. He slowly sat up and dropped his hands over his waist, hoping to hide his erection until it went down. And hopefully, as he ran through thoughts to will it down, it would go down. “Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks. Wait… did you say wizard?”

“Those girls summoned me for something after all,” Harry offered, sitting down to face him as Clark stared at him. “Something about a ritual that needed extra power. Seriously, you going to do something about that? It’s a little distracting.”

Clark spluttered and glared at him before sighing and glancing down at his traitorous cock. No matter what he thought about, it wasn’t going down. “I can deal with it. Did you… Are you really a wizard?”

“Yeah? I was born a wizard.” Harry shrugged and turned to look back at the girls. He turned back to Clark in the next second. “They mean something to you?”

“They’re friends. They were just… possessed.”

“Possessed by ancient witches. That is something I haven’t seen before,” Harry offered, his lips twitching up into an idle grin. “Though I have been possessed so I know the feeling, brief as it was for me.”

Clark stared at him and Harry grinned.

“You’re…”

“I’m not lying about being a wizard,” Harry replied, nodding. “It’s a thing. Now, if you don’t need anymore help, I’ll be going on back to my home dimension.”

Clark watched as Harry stood up and stretched, cracking a few muscles as he moved. He pondered running home and staying in the barn until his erection faded but shook his head at the thought. He might run into his parents and that… that would scar them and Clark for life. “Wait.”

Harry peered down at him, raised an expectant eyebrow.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about being with another boy. He had occasionally glanced at Whitney back before everything had happened. And Harry had offered to help. His heartbeat was faster than it had been a minute ago and Clark could see that Harry was being genuine in his offer. “Is there a kind of… spell that can trigger… this?”

Harry stared at him as he gestured downward. “I haven’t heard of one but then again, I’m not from around here. And there’s no other magic than mine here right now. I suspect it’s residual from whatever the witches did. I assume… all it would take to go down is to…”

“Have sex.”

Harry blinked at him, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “I was just going to say a handjob but whatever works for you. Besides, how old are you anyway?”

“I’m 17. You?”

“18.”

Clark studied the young man in front of him, taking in Harry’s unassuming posture and the easy way that he had stopped whatever the witches were doing. “I… You can’t tell anyone about the witches or about me.”

“Hey, whatever happens in the…” Harry trailed off, looked around at the cornfield that stretched around them. “Whatever happens in the cornfield, stays in the cornfield. Where are we anyway?”

Clark snorted. “Smallville’s not all cornfields, you know.”

“Smallville?”

“Kansas.”

“Huh.” Harry’s eyes narrowed in thought. “I was just in London a few minutes ago in my home dimension. Those witches must have been desperate for information from you. Or this was an accident. It’s me so it was probably an accident.”

“You… get summoned a lot?” Clark questioned, his eyes widening.

“No? It’s just… Shit’s happened to me and now I just roll with it,” Harry replied, sitting down again and creeping over towards him. He stopped just before Clark’s feet and gestured to his cock. “So…”

“Better than going back to my parent’s house with it,” Clark muttered, watching as Harry crept closer and hovered over him. Harry reached out a hand and laid it on his knee, his eyes questioning. Clark stared at him then finally nodded, his hands shaky as they moved to undo his jeans. He looked on as Harry shuffled closer, his hand moving to Clark’s waist.

Harry muttered something under his breath, something that sounded like Latin. The touch of cold, wet fingers on his cock was a shock to him, his heart skipping a beat and then racing. Harry’s eyes caught his as his fingers moved and he was entranced, sweat forming on his forehead and his cock arching up into Harry’s fist.

He heard a whining sound and he distantly realized it was him as Harry’s fingers moved, danced lightly across his skin. Pleasure built up in the base of his spine and he dug his fingers into the dirt beneath him, gouging the earth with his nails. As Harry moved, squeezing lightly, his release echoed throughout him.

When he came back to himself, Harry was sitting next to him, letting Clark lean his head onto his shoulder.

“Are you… I don’t know… a werewolf?” Harry finally questioned, gesturing to the marks that Clark left in the dirt. “Because that kind of strength…”

“Werewolf?”

“My godfather’s husband was a werewolf. Nice guy really but for once a month.”

“Uh… no, I’m not a werewolf. Would you mind forgetting that?” Clark asked quietly. “My parents would kill me if I let a stranger in on my… secret.”

“Sure. Well, it’s been nice,” Harry remarked, grinning as Clark pulled back and looked at him. “I should get going though.”

Clark nodded, yawning and stretching. “I… I’m an alien.”

“You know American football is the weirdest thing that I’ve seen-- Pardon?”

“I’m an alien.”

Harry blinked. “Well… I did not see that one coming.”

Chapter Text

T’Challa froze as he took in the meeting hall for the ambassadors of State. There was the Black Widow and he realized that she was the only Avenger in the room, perhaps the only Avenger that came here. Of course, many of the Avengers had been conflicted about the Accords, enough that Stark’s thoughts had become public.

“T’Challa?”

“Yes, Baba?” T’Challa only partially listened to his father, his eyes caught on one of the heroes of the wizarding world. Harry Potter. This was why he had come with his father to Vienna, in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of the British wizard that had saved the world. His heart beat quickly as he took in the man, seeing the untamed black hair that hid the famous scar and the bright green eyes. Mr Potter was wearing some well made dress robes, clothes that looked unlike the robes that T'Challa had often seen Wakandan witches and wizards wearing.

T’Chaka sighed at his son’s gaze, following it to the only wizard in the hall. “Kingsley did say he was sending the man here in his place.”

T’Challa turned towards him, his eyes wide. “You didn’t tell me that he was going to be here?”

“It slipped my mind, on account of other business,” T’Chaka remarked, his lips twitching up into a grin. “Go meet him. The talks and signing won’t be for a while yet.”

T’Challa blinked, inhaling deeply and taking in the various scents that followed people around. “You didn’t arrange for an alpha to meet us here, did you?”

“No, nothing like that. This is just for the Accords,” T’Chaka said, lifting his shoulders in a minute shrug. “Besides, didn’t I hear Shuri say something about wanting to meet him too?”

“She said something about doing something for the Vine,” T’Challa murmured, feeling his cheeks redden. He rolled his eyes at the memory. “Or was it For Science? I will not be doing that though.”

T’Chaka snorted and turned to speak to the diplomat from New York. T’Challa started over towards Harry and was stopped by the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff. The woman’s scent was very well hidden but with the enhanced senses of the Panther, he could smell a little, subtle alpha scent that was clinging to the woman’s body. She smelled of guns and of leather, of electricity but nothing that drew T’Challa in.

“Prince T’Challa.”

Natasha held out her hand and T’Challa reached out to shake her’s. Nothing happened between them, no spark, his heart didn’t start to race, he didn’t start to sweat or feel warm. Not his soulmate then. There weren’t a lot of recorded cases of people finding their one mate but he had hoped to find someone would be a good consort. Someone who understood politics, someone who wanted a family.

“Ms Romanoff, you are the only Avenger here?”

Natasha nodded, her blue eyes searching his. “I am. Rogers had other priorities and Stark already signed.”

“Hmm.”

T’Challa knew of Stark’s position and knew that his father supported that stance. “And what of you? Are you signing?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, glancing over to the window and then back to him. “Perhaps.”

“Very much like a spy, Ms Romanoff.”

T’Challa turned to look as Harry Potter joined them, walking over to stand next to the woman.

“And who would you be?” Natasha questioned, her eyes narrowing and her shoulders loosening.

“Harry Potter. British ambassador.”

T’Challa studied Harry as the wizard turned to look at him. The world at large did not know of the wizards and witches that lived with them, he knew. Even SHIELD did not know of them, so far entrenched in their secret society that they had a Statute of Secrecy. Wakanda did not have something of that sort as they did not have that many witches and wizards. Besides, the Black Panther was traditionally leader of the wizards and witches that lived in the country. That was Bast’s wish, that the leader of the country also lead the magical half, despite being non-magical.

“You’re the son of King T’Chaka, aren’t you?” Harry asked, his eyes lit in curiosity.

“Yes, I am Prince T’Challa. My father told me just a few minutes ago that you were going to be in attendance.”

“It was a last minute kind of thing,” Harry offered, shrugging. “Kingsley was pulled into a meeting and sent me. I don’t even have an opinion on the Avengers.”

“Who is this Kingsley?” Natasha enquired, inhaling sharply at something as she again glanced out the window.

“Leader of an organization in Britain,” T’Challa answered, turning to check on his father. T’Chaka was just getting ready to give a talk as he headed over to the dais. “Ms Romanoff.”

T’Challa nodded to Natasha before heading to stand in the corner, behind his father, as T’Chaka started to talk. He watched as Harry walked over to stand in the opposite corner, his green eyes gazing out of the window intently. He could sense the man’s magic, wild but entirely trained, more power than he had ever felt before in Wakanda. Though he had met Kingsley Shacklebolt before and the man, now Minister of Magic in Britain, was powerful.

Harry’s power was… more than a little intoxicating and T’Challa wondered if the hero of the Wizarding World had ever become an animagus. Whatever form, if anything, the wizard took was probably beautiful.

T’Challa could also smell Harry’s alpha scent as it curled around him, smelling of… lilies and the ozone of a winter storm. It was… calming and alluring at the same time. T’Challa focused back on his father’s speech, taking a look around at the various diplomats and ambassadors that had come to see the Accords signed.

Natasha Romanoff had walked to the windows again, her arms at her sides losely. T’Challa turned to look out the window too, wondering what had caught the attention of the Black Widow and his heart stopped. “Get down!”

The explosion ripped through the hall and T’Challa dove down to the floor, coughing as smoke and the scent of burning flesh filled the air. The windows exploded above him and glass shattered everywhere as T’Challa tried to crawl over to his father’s side. The smoke clung to everything, making it hard to see even a foot ahead of him.

He heard shouts and yells, screams of pain and finally, he could see his father, his heart stopping at the sight. T’Chaka was on the floor, burns visible through rips in his suit. Blood sluggishly slid out of his father’s body and T’Challa let out a cry, speeding over to sit by his father’s side. Harry was on his father’s other side, his eyes narrowed and his expression grim.

T’Chaka coughed, sounding like a dying… T’Challa blinked back tears as his father spit out blood and looked to Harry, who caught his eyes and shook his head.

“He’s…” Harry trailed off, tears pooling in his eyes. “He’s too far gone, Prince T’Challa. I’m sorry. I tried to shield us all though.”

Tears fell down his cheeks as he pulled his father into his lap, holding him as his life faded right before his very eyes. “Father…”

T’Chaka’s skin was pale, his eyes flickering closed as he coughed again and then he went limp. “Baba…”

T’Challa let out a strangled cry and held his father’s body, feeling a touch to his shoulder. He glanced up at Harry, his heart stopping and then restarting. His body warmed at the touch, as Harry squeezed his shoulder in comfort and then stood up.

T’Challa could faintly see a wand held in Harry’s hand, his own vision watery and puffy. Later, he would realize that all of the signs of soulmates had presented themselves in his body, all the signs of an omega meeting his or her fated alpha or beta. Now… Now his father was gone, dead. Now…

“My king.”

His whole body hurt. Smoke hovered in the air. Bodies littered the floor. Okoye knelt in front of him, her eyes filled with grief. He could hear Harry talking with someone in hushed whispers, something about his shield not being enough. T’Challa stared at Okoye and then back down to his father’s body, flinching at the sight and knowing that he had to get up and deal with this on his own. He gently laid his father down onto the floor, seeing Harry standing in front of him and his father’s body. His lungs ached and his throat tickled, the smoke filling his nose. He started to cough, huge heaving breaths in between, and then a glass was handed to him.

“Here. It should help.”

Harry caught his eyes and held out the glass of water. “We have things we need to talk about but for now… Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

T’Challa nodded, looking at Harry’s soft green eyes filled with worry. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

 

Chapter Text

Harry sighed as he walked throughout the market on the planet of Persephone, idly watched everyone passing by out of the corner of his eye. He missed his friends, missed the wizarding world that he knew. Now… All the wizards were stuffy old people all based on one planet and magic was apparently failing or something. Though it didn’t feel like it to him. To him, his magic was the same old, same old. His magic was as familiar as breathing was to him, the eddies and currents of it wrapping around him like a warm blanket in the winter.

Except not now, because it was hot as hell here. It wasn’t winter on this planet now as he wiped even more sweat off, the sun beaming down on him.

He never would have thought that there were more planets out in the galaxy, let alone travel to them. But here he was, a lone wizard traveling from planet to planet. He had gotten thrown through the veil last year, had ended up on a ship in the middle of space. Out in the Black, as everyone called it.

Harry twisted out of the way of a rough looking young boy, avoiding being pickpocketed by a mere inch or two. “If you want money, you could have asked proper.”

The boy looked up at him and squinted, looking like he thought Harry was crazy. Or like he couldn’t understand him. He had gotten those looks a few times here in this galaxy. Most people could understand his English accent but sometimes… Harry drew out some gold coins that he had had converted a month after he had arrived here and held them out to the boy.

The boy’s eyes widened and Harry watched as he ran off, ducking away from Alliance officers. He followed the boy’s lead, veering off to the docks, and escaping the notice of the agents. He had the appropriate ID information, with a card and everything that said he was a VIP but he didn’t care to attract notice from the government. There was something funky about the Alliance government but he didn’t quite know what it was.

He stood at the gate to the docks and looked around at the various ships, noting the various Alliance agents walking around. Harry continued on, slipping through the crowds of people and eying the ships, stopping at one in particular. The young woman that was sitting in a chair right before the lowered ramp finally turned to look at him, her blue eyes widening before she shot up.

“Harry!”

“Hey, Kaylee.” Harry ran over to greet her, ready for the hug that she granted him. “Long time no see.”

Harry pulled away first, looking her over to see what was new over the past nine months or so. She looked him over too, her eyes narrowing before she smiled.

“Looking for transport somewhere?”

“I rather hoped that I could join you guys,” Harry remarked, glancing over to the young man who had stopped in front of Kaylee too. The guy wasn’t familiar at all, looked like the son of a noble on some important planet with important parents. Suit and all, starched fabric and not an inch of dirt. “On a more permanent basis.”

Kaylee smiled wider, winking at him. “The cap’s been all in a right twist while you’ve been gone.”

Harry snorted, pondering the ship and its’ captain. Serenity. It was a nice name for a beautiful ship, a make and model that had gotten put in disuse a few years ago from what Kaylee told him when he had first appeared in Serenity’s dining room all those months ago. A standard Firefly cargo ship. Harry had been confused about the model name before he had seen it from space as it flew.

It looked like a firefly, with the large glow at the back from the engines and compact shape.

“I take it Inara’s doing her Companion thing here?”

Kaylee nodded, twirling her umbrella around and gesturing the man beside them into the cargo bay. “We’re taking on passengers here too. How’d it go with the wizards?”

Harry shrugged, sparing a glance to the apparent new passenger of Serenity and then turned back to Kaylee. “Not well. I’ll talk to everyone tonight, if they want to know.”

Kaylee frowned and then turned to go help another passenger when they called for her. Harry ventured up into the ship that he had landed in one year ago exactly, out of sorts and new to everything in this galaxy. He figured that Jayne, Zoe and Mal were out on a job, perhaps selling something in the lower city and wandered throughout the ship, silent and idle. His feet brought him to the guest room that he had been given and dropped his duffel and trunk on the bed.

He ventured out of his room and up to the bridge, spotting Wash at the controls. The same plastic dinosaurs were lined up on the top of the controls, the t-rex facing the big windows at the front.“Hey, Wash.”

“Gahhh!”

Wash turned around on the wheeled pilot chair, his eyes widening at Harry’s appearance. “Harry! I didn’t know you were coming back!”

“I didn’t know either. My feet brought me here.”

Wash blinked and then grinned. “Your feet or your magic? I’ve been wanting to see more that. Besides, Mal needs someone to take him to bed.”

Harry rolled his eyes, letting out a startled laugh.

“He get that bad?”

“Nah. Might leave Zoe and I more time though…” Wash hinted, grinning wickedly.

Harry snorted. “That wasn’t my reason for leaving Hecate.”

“What fei hua reason made you leave?”

Harry twitched his left hand and his wand dropped from the wrist holster, made sure it was there. “It was fei hua anyway, no matter what.”

Wash nodded. “Well, you’re welcome aboard anytime, no matter what the captain says.”

Harry grinned a little, looking out of the front facing windows and seeing Inara’s shuttle come in for docking with Serenity. Sounds floated up from the cargo bay, familiar voices and some unfamiliar, probably the passengers. “You think Jayne’s dropped his guard by now?”

Wash snorted. “Definitely. I’ll even record the experience. Jayne makes the funniest noises.”

Harry laughed under his breath and strode from the bridge, shifting shape between one step and the next. He landed on four legs, shaking out his full mane and padded down the stairs, stopping at the stairs that went down to the cargo bay and the loading ramp. He remembered to keep his claws in as he walked over the steel stairs, as Mal didn’t like his ship getting claw marks in it. Despite the fact that he could repair anything with a flick of his wand.

Jayne’s voice floated up to him and he hunched down, his tail flicking idly. He could see Kaylee still on the loading ramp, Zoe and Mal talking quietly by one of the smuggler compartments. The various passengers were milling about the cargo bay, one older man who looked like a shepherd, another more official looking man and then the younger man that he had seen coming in. Wash had followed him down and passed him, probably planning on loading up the passenger’s belongings if they needed assistance.

Harry slunk past the two steel aisles that went to the two shuttles, crooked his ear to Inara’s entrance. The woman smiled widely at him and then snorted, understanding what he was about to do. He crept closer, taking the stairs at a quiet, steady pace and then he pounced, tail down and butt moving back and forth.

Jayne squawked as he fell backwards, his arms flailing around as he landed on the floor of the cargo bay. Kaylee laughed out loud and Zoe let out a quieter snort of laughter. Mal’s lips twitched up into a smirk. Wash stopped driving the mule to watch Jayne glare up at Harry.

The various new passengers all froze at the lion, watching as it stalked and pounced on one of the crew members of Serenity.

“Gorram it! Harry,” Jayne grumbled and the lion on top of him let out a low, amused rumble in his throat before stepping off, chuffing and then shifting back onto two legs.

Harry grinned and reached out a hand, helping Jayne back up, and then walking up the steps to where Mal was standing.

“Captain, permission to come aboard?” Harry questioned, raising an eyebrow at the other man.

 


 

 

Mal crossed his arms as he looked at Harry, the man who had dropped into their lives a year ago and upended his own life. “Thought you were going to stay with the wizards.”

“Not forever,” Harry offered quietly, aware that their audience included non-crew members. “It ended poorly. The shagua president of theirs… I can explain later. If...”

“Me and mine aren’t in danger if you stay with us?”

“Nope. I’m not on the run from them. We… came to an understanding.”

“Fine. You can stay. You get the same room.”

“Already dropped my bags off.”

Mal nodded, his heart skipping a beat at the heat in Harry’s green eyes.

“I’ll make dinner tonight?”

“Please! No one cooks as good as you!” Kaylee exclaimed, running up the steps and pulling Inara off back to her shuttle so they could catch up.

 




“You make a mighty fine lion, you know,” Mal whispered, as he walked back to his bunk after the common meal with the new passengers. Harry walked alongside him, glancing to him and brushing a hand through his black hair.

“Mal…”

“Inara said some words to me… after you left.”

“Yeah?”

“They were the kind of words that left an impression.”

“That loud?”

Mal’s lips unconsciously turned up into a grin as they stopped by his bunk. “You joining me?”

“The crew did give me a nudge,” Harry remarked, shrugging and leaning up against the ship wall. He grinned a little and Mal rolled his eyes, enjoying the look that Harry was giving him.

He cursed under his breath and opened the door to his bunk, stepping down the ladder. Harry followed him down and met him shirtless, closing the distance between them and wrapping an arm around his waist. Mal let out a noise and reached for Harry at the same time, pressing into the kiss.

Harry groaned into it too, curling his other arm around Mal and trying to pull him in even closer. Heat coiled in his belly as Harry slipped his tongue into his mouth, slid a hand under his shirt. Harry pressed him backwards until he hit the cabin wall, reaching both hands down to pull off his shirt.

“What did those wizards want you to do?”

Harry’s hands moved about his heated skin and they caught each other’s eyes.

“They wanted to arrange my marriage,” Harry muttered, pressing a kiss to Mal’s shoulder.

Mal snorted and let out a gasping breath as Harry moved up, leaving a trail of kisses.

“Sounds like a whole lot of fei hua,” Mal retorted, drawing Harry up into a kiss.

Whatever Harry had been about to say was interrupted by Wash comming down to them.

“Mal, Harry, you might want to get up here.”

Both of them stiffened and then hurriedly threw both shirts on, running up to the bridge. Wash was sitting at the pilot’s seat and turned to look at them, a slight smirk on his lips.

Mal glared at him and Wash shrugged.

“Someone was on the cortex and got in contact with the Alliance.”

Mal glanced to Harry, raising an eyebrow. Harry shook his head. “Not for me.”

“There’s a mole on board,” Wash said, his eyes narrowed.

Chapter Text

 

Harry glanced to Oberyn, riding ahead of the Dornish party and determined to head to King’s Landing with revenge in his heart. The sun shone above them as they rode from the port in the city to the gates, the banners of various Dornish nobles swaying in the wind. Ellaria Sand rode next to him and they exchanged worried looks, both knowing that there was trouble ahead.

Oberyn was bound and determined to get vengeance for Elia and her children and who could blame him? Harry sighed, pondering what he knew of Robert’s Rebellion and Westerosi history. Robert hadn’t even been a good king nor had he reigned for a long time. Most of the Targaryen kings had ruled far longer than Robert had and there had been quite a bit of peace during the dragon dynasty.

He hadn’t been in Westeros for longer than a year but he knew most of their customs and traditions. He had kept mostly to Dorne during these past few months, enjoying the mostly non judgemental attitudes of the Dornish and appreciating their inheritance laws. He had come to like Oberyn’s niece, Princess Arianne Martell, the heir to Dorne, and her brothers and Ser Daemon Sand.

Oberyn though… He loved having a lover who was eager and hot, ready for sex anytime Harry was in the mood. He loved him, for being there for Harry while he adjusted to being in Westeros, for readily enough welcoming him and hosting him like a friend. Oberyn had taught him how to ride and had tried to teach him how to fight with a spear but that hadn’t gone well. That bit of practice had devolved into sex, particularly hot, sweaty sex.

 


 

 

“You are hopeless.”

Harry snorted, rolling his eyes and shifting shape between one step and the next into his panther form. He yowled and charged, his paws sinking into the sand of the practice court and colliding with Oberyn, seeing his amused dark eyes as they both pitched backward into the sand. Harry ended up on two legs again as he lowered down to press a kiss to Oberyn’s waiting mouth.

Oberyn grinned up into the kiss and tugged Harry closer as their cocks touched through their clothing, twin, heated gasps filling court. The Martell guards who were in sight and hearing range moved away, either turning their backs or walking off to the walls of the castle.

“Oberyn…” Harry muttered, peeling back the other man’s tunic and leaving a trail of kisses up his throat. “Not in the sand.”

“We’ve done it everywhere else,” Oberyn argued, his eyes going wide with arousal as Harry’s arm trailed down to his cock under his tunic. Sweat dripped down their foreheads and Harry’s heart beating so fast. “Besides, I think we scarred my brother and niece for life.”

Harry let out a surprised laugh and shook his head. “Your bedroom, Oberyn. I meant your bedroom.”

Oberyn smirked and Harry grabbed a hold of him and apparated them to Oberyn’s rooms in Sunspear, in the same tower as the rooms for the ruling Prince of Dorne. Of course, right now Prince Doran was in the Water Gardens and Ser Manfrey Martell was the castellan of Sunspear.

They landed right on Oberyn’s bed and Harry immediately stepped back, stripping off his sweaty tunic and watching Oberyn do the same. Prince Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper, was the most muscular man Harry had ever seen and it wasn’t due to working out in a gym. It was the years and years of spear fighting, the horse back riding and running. It was fighting in a mercenary company in Essos.

Harry wasn’t bad himself but he had worked to keep his body in shape, building muscles for speed and endurance, better to best the Death Eaters.

Oberyn’s dark hair lay on his shoulders, longer than Harry had ever seen it and his mouth went dry at the look Oberyn was giving him. It was an invitation, a challenge and Harry utterly loved it, closing the distance between them and pushing Oberyn back down onto the bed with a nudge. Both of their cocks had hardened, pre-cum at the tips, not losing anything in the travel.

Oberyn’s eyes glinted up at him as they rocked together, as Harry summoned their vial of oil that they used and coated his fingers with it. Oberyn gasped, bucking up into Harry’s fingers as he shuffled back a bit to settle in between his legs.

Oberyn’s breath hitched as pleasure built at the base of his spine, sparks of it flooding his body. Harry’s finger hit that spot and he let out a strangled whine, arching back into Harry’s fingers as one became two, fingering him open. “Get on with it, Harry.”

“Someone might think you love sex,” Harry muttered, his lips twitching up into a grin and his green eyes wide with arousal.

Oberyn snorted, his heart skipping a beat as Harry’s fingers disappeared and were replaced with his cock in one big thrust. “Surely… Fuck. Surely, it’s not a bad thing. There are worse things to love, you know.”

Harry smiled and reached down to pull him into a kiss, adjusting his angle before withdrawing a little bit. Little nipping kisses combined with Harry thrusting back in hardened his cock even more,  a trail of licks and little bites down his chest and a little pinch to a nipple threw him over the edge, his release screaming through him. His muscles squeezed around Harry’s cock and brought the other man off too. Oberyn let out a strangled growl, pleasure rocketing through his body, his toes curling and his fingers clawing the bedsheets.

He came too as Harry was trailing a light finger over his chest, dipping down to lay kisses on each of his battle scars. There weren’t that many but Harry was kissing the few that there were.

“There are worse things to love than sex,” Harry murmured, muttering something else in that hissy language of his, the one that made sex even hotter. Parseltongue, Harry called it.

Oberyn’s cock was soft but it perked up to attention at that and Harry raised an eyebrow. Oberyn shrugged, a pleased grin on his lips.

“You think your niece will be upset with us if we stay in here for the rest of the afternoon?” Harry questioned, mischief in his eyes.

“We’ll tell her it was spear practice,” Oberyn said.

Harry let out a laugh at his words and when he tried to stop, one glance at Oberyn was all it took to start laughing again. “You’re horrible.”

“You love me.”

“That I do,” Harry said, shrugging in exasperation and winking at him.

 




The banners of House Baratheon and House Lannister flew over the Red Keep as they rode through the gates of the city. The keep was visible from the Dragon Gate and Harry once again looked at Oberyn, thinking of what was going on in Westeros right now. The War of the Five Kings was being fought in the riverlands right now, with Joffrey Baratheon on the throne. Robb Stark was the King in the North while Stannis was the King in the Narrow Sea. Renly Baratheon had crowned himself King, apparently having disregarded the proper inheritance rules.

And… Oberyn was riding into the pit of lions, the family that tore his sister from him. When Harry had heard of what happened to Oberyn’s sister and her children, he had had to take a moment, his stomach had gotten so torn up into knots over that. Lord Tywin Lannister was in the capital at this very moment and so was Ser Gregor Clegane.

Harry stopped his horse, the gentle mare who had put up with him this long, and sighed. Oberyn had had nightmares every week, dreams of what had happened to his sister and Harry had had to hear him scream out for her, for her children.

He glanced to Ellaria Sand, Oberyn’s other lover and raised an eyebrow, dipping his head Oberyn’s way. Her eyes narrowed as she studied him, her dark eyes worried. They had talked the night before they had left Dorne and Sunspear, talked of their fears of where this revenge would end. If it would ever end.

“Oberyn?” Harry called out, watching as Oberyn stopped his horse and turned.

“Harry?”

“Don’t say I never did anything for you!” He disapparated on the spot, disappearing from his horse’s saddle amidst the castle and the lions.

 




He landed amidst a battle and a raging river, though it wasn’t a very high river or dangerous river. And it wasn’t just any old river. He could see the House Targaryen banners at the south side of the river and the banners of Houses Stark, Arryn, Baratheon and Tully on the northern side of the river.

He sidestepped two men colliding and jumped up into the air, whispering words under his breath, one spell in particular to lift him up and up. He rose over the battle, trying to find one man in particular, one man who had started it all and now who could end it easily. The silver hair was easy to spot in amidst all the black and brown hair and he floated over the bannermen of House Targaryen to hover over Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lord Robert Baratheon.

A silence swept over the men below him, stillness erupting out from the center of the fight. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen froze at the sight of him, his mouth dropping open. Robert too froze, his dark blue eyes furious as he zeroed in on the prince.

“Who… Who are you?” Prince Rhaegar questioned, as everyone stopped fighting below Harry.

He could see Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Jon Arryn in the fight and quickly spotted Prince Lewyn Martell, Doran, Oberyn and Elia’s uncle, fighting to stay standing between three Baratheon men at arms.

“Someone who wants this to stop,” Harry spoke, pointing his wand at his throat and magnifying his voice. “This needs to stop. Prince Rhaegar needs to ascend to the throne.”

Robert glared at him and was about to open his mouth when Harry vanished.

 




Harry landed back in King’s Landing, fifteen years later and back on his horse. Only this time… There were House Targaryen banners above the Red Keep, the three-headed dragon flying free. He was amongst the Dornish contingent and he could see his lover, Oberyn. The man looked at peace now, his shoulders loose and relaxed.

They had just entered the courtyard of the Keep and Harry could see many people spilling out of the Keep and throne room. It looked to be quite a party, four teenagers racing out to greet Prince Oberyn. The adults at the end were slightly familiar but then again, Harry had only seen the prince.

Ellaria’s eyes widened as soon as he reappeared, a strange light entering her. “Oberyn! He’s back!”

Oberyn stopped his horse where he was and turned, his eyes widening. He urged his horse towards Harry’s, cantering back down the lines and dismounted at Harry’s side. Harry dismounted too, studying Oberyn as he stared too stared at him.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What…” Oberyn blinked, grasping his head and shaking. “You… Elia… She’s alive!”

Harry shrugged. “I would hope so otherwise I just did what I did for nothing.”

King Rhaegar Targaryen walked out behind his children and two wives, Queen Elia Martell and Queen Lyanna Stark, followed by his small council. Lord Jon Arryn walked behind him as Hand of the King, followed by Stannis Baratheon as Master of Ships.

Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, Prince Aegon Targaryen, Princess Daenerys and Prince Aemon Targaryen all walked out to greet the Dornish contingent. Prince Viserys was the one in the back of the group, walking with his older brother and his two wives. Aemon was the only one who did not look like a Targaryen, with his dark hair and grey eyes. There was a direwolf at his side, all white with red eyes and a sword at his hip, one that looked an awful lot like Valyrian steel.

“You have a beautiful family,” Harry added, startling a little as Oberyn yanked him into a hot kiss. Harry pressed his lips to Oberyn’s, holding him still.

“Thank you.”

Chapter Text

As soon as everyone more or less settled in the prison, Harry staked out one of the prison towers. He knew Maggie and Glenn had done the same so he didn’t think anything of it, putting down a sleeping bag and a spare gun, just in case for Daryl. The walkers had been chased out of the prison yard and there were none outside the fence. But there would be more…

Daryl came up not too long afterward, the sun just dipping down below the horizon as he took the last step. The hunter had his crossbow hung on his shoulder just like always, a quiver of arrows on the other shoulder.

“Lori’s asking after you,” Daryl said, his voice rough from disuse.

“She can wait until morning,” Harry remarked quietly, glancing to the prison down below them. If he closed his eyes, he could just picture flying in the sky above the prison on his firebolt. He had lost his broom to the fire at the farm all those months ago but perhaps if they were staying here for the time being… He might be able to build another broom, play around with a few spells to see if it would work. He sighed, studying Daryl enough that the other man noticed it.

Harry had joined Rick’s group during the winter, had come to like Daryl’s presence more than the others. Daryl wasn’t exactly clean, hadn’t been clean at all anytime during they had known each other. Harry wasn’t clean himself but he didn’t have blood anywhere on his skin. Daryl probably had a few bits of dried blood all over him but that didn’t make him less attractive.

They had exchanged a few kisses in the last few months but nothing further. Not having the space, time or the mood to have sex had definitely put a damper on all other activities. And there was the privacy issue. Their group had stuck together during the winter and all slept together in the same room or car or storage shed.

Harry’s heart raced at the thought, at finally being alone and having the time. Their people were safe enough for the night and Hershel was beginning to recover from having been bitten.

The sky had turned into a patchwork quilt of red, orange and blue as the sun fell and Harry reached out, drawing Daryl to him with a small tug.

“We’re safe,” Harry whispered, seeing Daryl’s eyes widen at the notion. “Our group’s safe.”

 


 

 

Daryl went with Harry’s tug, his heart skipping a beat as he took in the heat in Harry’s green eyes. He shrugged off his crossbow, slipped the quiver full of arrows off, hearing them fall to the ground with a light thunk. Harry leaned his forehead against his, wrapping his arms around him before pulling back, pressing his lips to Daryl’s. He groaned into the kiss as one of Harry’s hands made its way to his neck, squeezing just a little to anchor.

Sweat dripped down his back as Harry nudged him backward, his back hitting the wall. Harry stripped out of his shirt and Daryl inhaled sharply, seeing the various scars on the other man. His most obvious one was the scar on his forehead but there were others and Harry had little to no fat on him, like Daryl.

Daryl stripped off his own shirt, his cheeks reddening as Harry’s eyes narrowed, his lips darting out unselfconsciously. Harry was totally nonchalant about being naked himself, no worries over how people would see his body and Daryl…

“Hey, it’s okay,” Harry whispered, cupping his cheek and tipping his head up with a finger. “It’s just me. No judgement here.”

Harry dipped down to trail a line of kisses from the edge of Daryl’s shoulder up to his mouth, little nipping kisses that brought out a strangled moan. Daryl’s legs shuddered, trembled, and he was glad of the wall behind him, regardless of the fact that the wall only went up to his waist. His cock hardened and he gasped into another kiss, this one wet and hot.

“Harry… Fuck.”

Harry grinned a little, heat in his eyes, as his left hand trailed down, tracing Daryl’s own scars.

“You ever been with another man before?”

“Nah. The gay thing… Never been with a woman either.”

Harry smiled a little wryly, his hand reaching up to thumb a nipple. Pleasure sparked throughout Daryl’s body, his breath coming in shallow pants as Harry’s other hand hovered over his waist. Harry raised an eyebrow, his eyes wide with arousal. Daryl nodded and nearly bucked up into his fingers as Harry’s hand slid down, underneath his pants, and lightly traced over his hard cock.

His legs threatened to buckle, flares of pleasure sparking through his body and building at the base of his spine. Harry wrapped an arm around him, easing them both down to the sleeping bag on the floor of the watchtower. He settled on the floor, on his back and watched as Harry rolled down his pants and helped him take of his own. Harry’s left hand circled his cock, sliding up and over it and smearing some pre-cum all over. His heart near stopped at the look Harry was giving him, eyes full of arousal and fondness. Sweat dripped down Harry’s forehead too and his cock was hard, more so now than whenever they had stopped for a handjob over the past few months.

The moon rose around them as Harry slipped a pillow underneath Daryl’s hips and dipped his hand down, reaching down to slip a finger inside him. He froze at the sensation, three quarters pleasure and just a little pain at the intrusion. Another kiss drew his mind off it as Harry opened him up, his fingers already wet by a whispered spell. One finger became two and pleasure again flowed through him as Harry’s fingers hit a spot, the buzz of pleasure rocketing through his body.

His fingers curled and he moaned into it as Harry added one more finger, stretching him even further before withdrawing. He scrabbled and wrapped his arms around Harry, holding him close in case he…. Left.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry murmured, his voice gone husky with pleasure and then positioned himself, thrusting in with one motion. Daryl let out a yell, pleasure speeding through him at the sensation. He felt full, wrapped up by Harry and his particular scent, one of ozone, the old scent of his magic. He forgot about the dead, about the prison, about the inmates.

The pleasure at the base of his spine grew as Harry withdrew a little bit and then thrust back in. They moved together, Harry rocking into him, and then it only takes one more thrust and one biting kiss at his neck to drive him over the edge. Daryl let out a strangled moan, his toes curling and his fingers scrabbling at the sleeping bag underneath him as pleasure rode through him. He only vaguely noticed Harry coming too, his vision shorting out as Harry stroked him through it.




 

 

Harry glanced down at Daryl as the man slowly woke up, his eyes blinking open. Harry had lowered himself down to the sleeping bag next to Daryl and gently tugged the other man into the crook of an arm, trailing his fingers over his scalp and picking out bits of blood and dirt.

“You enjoyed that, I hope?”

Daryl nodded, gone quiet again before opening his mouth. “Yeah.”

Harry grinned tentatively and Daryl’s lips twitched up into a smile.

Chapter Text

One minute Harry was standing half on the curb and half not on the street and the next, he had been thrown towards the sidewalk. A bus careened through the street, right where he had been and hit the young man that had thrown him. Sharp pain flooded his wand arm as it flopped about, hitting the pole of a street sign hard. Harry heard the tell-tale crack of a broken bone and the loud, squish of a body hitting a very fast moving car.

Screams filled the air, people yelling to each other and as Harry lay on the sidewalk, confused and shocked, sirens came speeding towards them. The bus that had ran into the man slowed to a stop in Harry’s pain filled vision and the bus driver got out, hurrying over to the side of the now squashed young man. The guy looked a mess, bruises everywhere and not an inch of pale skin visible under the mass of injuries.

The ambulance arrived three minutes later and Harry was too dazed to do anything but stand there, letting the American EMT’s do their work, carefully lifting the guy onto a stretcher and helping Harry himself into the ambulance. Someone put his arm into a sling, cleaning and putting a butterfly bandage on his cuts. Harry’s heart was beating so fast, faster than it had in a long while, ever since the last battle during the war.

Quicker than he knew it or maybe he blacked out momentarily, they arrived at the hospital, Seattle Grace Memorial Hospital. He could see the Space Needle out of the window of the ambulance and peered down at the guy who had most likely saved his life. The guy was a mess of a human being, didn’t even look human right now. Too many burns, broken bones and fucked up skin in the way. Blood spurted out of every available hole and only a few holes had already been stopped or plugged by the EMTs.

“Coming in!”

Someone helped Harry out of the vehicle and into the hospital, over to a patient cubicle, while the doctors and residents took the guy into a separate room. He stared out at the hospital, at the people around him as he was sat down on a chair, someone gently holding his arm and laying down on a small table next to him.

Memories flashed through him of the war, of the time when Ron had gotten splinched. He blanched at the remembered sight, taking a deep breath and focusing on the younger woman who was taking a look at his arm. He could hear shouts and see a lot of doctors running into the room where they had taken the man.

“What’s your name?”

He blinked and turned to the younger woman, taking in her long black hair that was pulled back in a tail and her blue eyes. She was wearing scrubs that were lighter blue, perhaps an intern and her name tag said her name was Lexie Grey.

“Uh, Harry.”

He glanced again at the room, seeing one doctor run out again. Harry would have to wait for the opportune moment to see if he could do something about the younger man who had saved his life. Now wouldn’t be very easy, what with five, maybe six doctors in there. Hopefully, the guy would survive that long.

Thoughts of the last person who had saved him ran through his mind. That had been Dobby and he hadn’t lived past it. Harry intended for this guy to live but he would have to wait to make sure of it. Pain flaring up his arm drew his attention to the young intern who was making stitches up his arm, his eyes narrowing a little.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone with an injury like this.”

“I’ve… uh... had worse,” Harry remarked, shrugging slightly. He would have to down a pain killing potion and fix whatever needed to be fixed later, as there were too many people in the ER. And not a one of them was a witch or wizard.

The young woman, Dr Grey, blinked and continued to stitch his arm. Harry turned to watch the separate room, keeping his breathing steady as little biting stabs of pain flowed up his arm and up into his shoulder, the pain that was nothing like the Cruciatus Curse. Or having all of the bones in his right arm vanished and having to grow them back. Or being bitten by a basilisk.

Another doctor came up to them, looking over Dr Grey’s work and said something about redoing the stitches. Harry blinked at the man and then turned to squint into the room where his man was, taking in the several doctors in the room. “Is everyone here this attractive or am I hallucinating?”

Dr Grey and the man, Dr Sloan, both stopped talking and looked at him, blinking in confusion.

Dr Sloan let out a surprised laugh. “It’s one of the benefits of being a Plastic Surgeon.”

Harry snorted and then turned to look at the room once again, seeing that the door was open.

 




It took the doctors a while to deliver Harry’s rescuer back to the ICU and Harry quietly followed the bed. It looked like they had taken the man into surgery and then realized that he had needed time to stabilize. Harry looked around at the bustling hospital, having persuaded the residents in charge to let him stay with the guy. The sun had gone down since the incident had happened and a shift change was happening in the midst of the usual hospital happenings.

Harry pulled over a chair and sat in it as he looked the guy over. The young man had pushed Harry away and had then gotten run over by the bus. He sighed, remembering how the guy had looked in the seconds before the bus came, remembering the smile he had turned Harry’s way. The guy had been attractive, the perfect image of a stereotypical good guy and Harry’s heart had done a flip in his chest at him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Harry whispered warily, before pulling his messenger bag up and onto his lap. He had been in Seattle for business, one of the wizarding businesses here needed to do some work with a business in England so they sent for him. Harry glanced up at the floor to ceiling glass walls around their room and discreetly palmed his wand, whispering wards under his breath.

Bright warding magic shot from his fingertips, enclosing the room within a bubble and keeping people from coming in. It would keep people out for an hour or two, making them think they were needed elsewhere, until Harry was done, or exhausted, whichever came first. Once he finished spelling the room, he downed a pain potion and spelled the other pain potion into the man’s stomach.

He had taken two year’s worth of healing lessons from Pomfrey after the war was over and it would probably be enough to make sure this man lived. He held his wand lightly to the man’s stomach, or at least where the man’s stomach would be, and began to mutter healing spells.

A transparent skeleton arose from the man’s body, created from magic, and began to fill in, the veins made of red spell light, the organs a pool of blue light and so on. By the time the magical construct was done, Harry could see where all of the damage was,  black light taking up most of the organs, skin, muscle and bones. There was a lot of damage but Harry started with the fatal wounds, encouraging his magic to flow into the man’s body and heal.

He had to shore up the man’s heart, knitting together the various veins and the actual heart muscle. It was a miracle the man had survived but Harry ploughed through, mending bones and organs and pressing some burn paste to the man’s skin. The paste worked right away, healing the dead skin and bringing new, pink skin to the surface. He rubbed the paste over every inch of burned, rubbed raw skin, from head to toe.

By the time Harry withdrew, his magic halfway gone and needing sleep to recharge, the young man looked human again. There was not an inch of tire burned skin, instead replaced by fresh, pink skin. There was no blood visible, no dirt, no open wounds. Harry had left the man with a broken arm and broken leg, seeing those injuries as nonfatal and not on his list of priorities to heal, not when his magic was frantically healing all of the other potentially fatal wounds.

Harry’s arm was fixed too and this time there had been no need to regrow the bones. He yawned, made sure all signs of magic were gone, and called the wards back to himself and then made himself comfortable on the chair and fell asleep, listening to the quiet beeping of the machines.




 

 

He was woken by gasps and shouts, exclamations of wonder, blinking his eyes open to see various doctors spread about the bed. He glanced out the window, saw that the sun was up and shining, saw that his guy was awake and finally looked to the doctors and residents that had filed in.

“What? What is it? Is the world ending?” Harry sleepily questioned, hiding a yawn behind a hand and looking within himself briefly to check his magic. He had recharged enough to apparate, if need be, so he raised an eyebrow. He had ended up half on the guy’s bed, his right hand holding onto the other man’s hand. “Something else wrong?”

Every single doctor and resident turned to look at him, their eyes wide.

“What.” Harry finally gave up, seeing every doctor’s open mouths and turned back to the guy who had saved his life. His wide blue eyes were open and he was looking straight at Harry, his mouth opening and closing.

“George!”

“George, you are not joining the military!”

“So… you’re George then, I presume,” Harry remarked, grinning a little. “I didn’t need the life saving. That’s usually my thing.”

George blinked and then his lips twitched up into a small smile.

“I’m Harry, nice to meet you.” Harry yawned and stood up, stretching his back and arms, hearing them crack. “I’ll be in town for a week or two. I’d totally be down for a date, when you’re up for dinner or lunch or hey, even breakfast. You’re cute. I’m single. I don’t know if you’re single or gay or bisexual but… Well, it’s been fun everyone. I left my number on your dresser.”

“Wait.”

Harry stared at George, felt the tug from the hand that George was still holding and went with it. He grinned into the kiss, feeling George smile into it too. There were yet more gasps and sharp inhaled breaths around them before Harry pulled away, not wanting to get the man in trouble.

“Talk later?” Harry questioned, his heart racing at the intrigued look in George’s eyes and smiling at his nod before walking out of the room and hospital.

Chapter Text

“President Snow, I’m honored to think that you would invite me to a dinner at the capital.”

“Mr Potter, you are a special man,” Coriolanus Snow remarked, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “You are a wealthy, important man and I would just like to show my appreciation for you. If you would follow me.”

Harry blinked but followed the president of Panem, not seeing what else he could do since he had appeared in the capital just two days ago. The Capital was a vicious city, built in the country that had gone through several wars and maybe one or two nuclear wars. The 12 districts around it were spread out around what used to be the United States, separated by fences and borders now. “Show your appreciation how?”

“You like men, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do but what does that have to do with anything?” Harry asked, as they walked down the hall of the Presidential mansion. He saw his guard out of the corner of his eye, the man having watched him ever since Harry had come to the capital at the invitation of the President. “And what are these Hunger Games that I keep hearing about?”

“You are about to see them now. My supporters are hosting a rewatch of the 74th Hunger Games. They were quite the games and I would like to invite you to share the presidential palace to watch them. The Quarter Quell is in two weeks after all.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as President Snow led them into a big room that held a theater, with round tables around the hall. People were crowded about the big room, talking excitedly and dressed to the nines in colorful gowns and dress clothes. The clothes though… looked bizarre, not practical and unpleasant to look at. It was like a muggle washing machine had threw up and had produced this… monstrosity of clothing. Harry was also pretty sure that more than a few of the hair styles were wigs, styled in crazy designs with weird pins and such in it.

All in all, everyone looked rich, the material and styling had to come from wealth. There was not a single person that was not dressed to impress and Harry definitely felt out of place. There was a person who wasn’t dressed crazily, who had little to no clothing on. This man was close in age to him, maybe about 23. He rather looked like someone who sold their body, going up to people with a bright, wide smile on his face and moving about in a way that would show people that he was in shape. In shape and knew how to fight.

Harry wondered what the man’s purpose here was, wondered who he was. And then there were the men and women at the walls, trying to blend into the corners. They were dressed in red and they never looked at people, keeping their heads down as they obeyed orders from the citizens of the Capital. Harry had heard that they were called Avoxes but he hadn’t… His stomach roiled at the thought, knowing enough Latin to know what the word meant. Without voice. Their tongues had been cut out.

“Pick a seat at my table, Mr Potter. It is a good view of the Games,” President Snow remarked, drawing Harry out of his thoughts. “This is the only celebration we have today that marks the end of the rebellion.”

“Last year was so good too.”

“I always love it when a family member volunteers in the place of someone else! It makes it so much juicier!”

He even heard people placing bets, though on what Harry didn’t know. And he was beginning to think that what they were about to watch, with the screen in front of them showing a big forested area, was not going to be pleasant. Harry sat down across from the President but still at the table, a plate and silverware in front of him.

A waiter came to his side right as he did, asking him if he wanted anything to eat. Harry shook the guy off and watched the screen as the cameras moved, centering on a clearing with 24 small platforms. On top of those platforms, one person stood. 12 girls and 12 boys. Some were young while others were older. One dark skinned girl looked to be all of 12, the smallest of them all, and her eyes were determined and yet… Harry could detect a hint of fear in them. They all wore the same uniform and they all looked… nervous and varying degrees of panic.

There was a big, jet, something like a troop carrier, on the ground in the center of the field, with weapons, food, armor, water, medicine all spread out around and within it. Harry stared blankly at it, his thoughts taking a turn, and he stared around him at the wealthy people in the hall with him.

“There’s the Girl on Fire!”

“She was so beautiful in the tribute parade!”

“Oh yeah?! Ethelia said she would! She loves her sister! It was beautiful watching her volunteer for Primrose!”

Harry looked out over the crowd, his eyes once again turning to the sparsely clothed guy. The other young man had his back to Harry but with how little he was clothed, Harry could see the muscles on his back and the soft skin. A light, loose blue shirt covered his upper chest but it was definitely see through.

A loud clang shuddered through out the hall, coming from speakers all throughout the room. Harry turned back to the screen and witnessed the beginnings of a blood bath. Everyone moved at once, every single kid and teenager moving towards the cornucopia in the center and grabbing what weapons they could. Someone grabbed an axe and thrust it right into the teenager next to them. One kid grabbed a sword and hacked at a younger boy that was coming towards the jet. Another teenager grabbed a spear and threw it at another, slicing right through the kid’s neck, and blood covered the ground.

By the time it was done, Harry realized he had stopped breathing, his shoulders curling inward. There were five bodies on the ground, laid around the cornucopia with sightless eyes. The Hunger Games. Harry shuddered and looked at President Snow as he took in another deep breath, relaxing his body enough that hopefully no one would think differently of him. He already knew enough of this Capital, of this strange city where people got their tongues cut out for being disloyal or treasonous.

He grinned and nodded to the president, who gestured back up at the screen. “Now you see. This celebration is what we truly enjoy.”

“I look forward to seeing what else this city has to offer,” Harry remarked, keeping the disgust from his tone just barely.

President Snow dipped his head in a nod and turned to answer a question from some other man, probably an aid. “I would delight in showing you where the Gamemakers work.”




 

 

“I saw you had your eyes on one of the Victors,” President Snow spoke, as the day ended and 4 more kids had ended up dead. One 12 year old girl had just died, speared through the stomach, and Harry’s stomach had threatened to roil. He had gone through war, had seen numerous people dead and Hogwarts students dead as well but this… This was cold blooded murder. This was meant to subjugate the other 11 distracts into not rebelling. He didn’t know much of Panem’s history but he made a note to himself to find out what there was to tell. Surely it hadn’t been like this forever.

Harry once again followed the President, imagining pointing his wand at the president and uttering those two words. But… he would need to be plenty more prepared to deal with the aftermath then and need more details about this new world. “I spoke with Finnick Odair, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games. He would be delighted to assist you in anyway that you want.”

Snow led Harry out of the theater room and gestured for him to follow, heading throughout the building and down another hallway. People skipped past them, servants and aids to the President and other government officials. No one looked distraught at the teenagers dying. No one said a word otherwise.

“He’s in there,” President Snow remarked, smiling at him in a way that was not at all pleasant. But Harry supposed it was supposed to be nice but was just… on the edge of suspicious. “He is said to please everyone he meets.”

Harry nodded, blinking once or twice. “Alright…”

“Go. Surely you need a break from your travels. And he does cater to people of your flavor, I hear.”

The guards stationed occasionally throughout the hall stood at attention as the president left Harry. His own shadow stood behind him, less a guard and more of a sentry, a spy. Harry stared at the guard and then sighed, shaking his head and nudging the door open, letting it close behind him. If he was to blend into the Capital and learn more about it, he figured he had to act the part.

“I hear you’re new to the Capital.”

Harry looked around at the room ahead of him, seeing the big bed at the opposite wall and nothing else. There were two bedside tables on either side and a trunk at the foot of it, making Harry shudder to guess what was in it. The young man standing by the bed stalked towards him, all graceful like. Finnick Odair, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games.

He looked like he could kill anyone, his muscles rippling over his body and no movement unnecessary. The clothes he wore left nothing to the imagination, changed from before to a loose, see through white shirt with short sleeves. The loose, white pants also left nothing to the imagination, the outline of Finnick’s cock very visible. Harry licked his suddenly dry lips and he saw Finnick smirk at him.

But he could also see Finnick’s sea-green eyes, see the hidden exhaustion under a wall. He wondered… Finnick must have been young when he was a victor, at least younger than 15. He wondered what kind of horrors he must have seen and done. And President Snow had seemed so indifferent or dismissive of Finnick when talking about him. The President had spoken of Finnick like a pawn, to direct or to… to have sex with someone at the President’s command.

“I am. Name’s Harry. And you’re Finnick?”

“Yes, I am. I am also your loyal servant for the week.”

Finnick took a step closer, his lips twitching up into a big smile. Harry stared at him, crossed his arms and sighed. He glanced up to the ceiling of the room, extended his magic in a wide wave around the room to search for cameras or microphones and found three. Harry dropped his arms to his sides, tapping his fingers against his jeans and thought of the two spells he wanted.

Magic filled the room, wrapping the two men up in a bubble, and then taking their likeness. Cameras and microphones flickered off and on before staying on, only with warding around them.

“Are you… being forced to do this?” Harry questioned, gesturing between them.

Finnick blinked, his eyes narrowing. “Of course not. I enjoy getting to know the Capital newcomers. My team didn’t prep me for what you wanted but I can do anything you want. But no long lasting bruises, please. The Quarter Quell is approaching and they don’t want me looking inappropriate for interviews.”

Harry flinched. “What if I wanted… to… I don’t know… What kind of things do people want to do in the Capital?”

Finnick grinned and took a step back. “Some people want pain. Some want praise. Others want to see other people in pain. I’m available for anything and everything your heart wants. No safe words necessary.”

There was nothing in Finnick’s voice other than blank approval and yet… The callous way that Snow had talked of Finnick and the way that the citizens of the capital had talked of seeing kids killing each other…

“Finnick, I know you don’t know me but I’m not having sex with you if you’re being forced to do this,” Harry said, taking a step closer towards him. “And before you ask, I took care of the cameras and microphones and everything else. If people are watching us, all they’re seeing is us having sex.”

Finnick blinked, took in what seemed to be a strangled breath. “I’m not being forced to have sex with people.”

“I wouldn’t have sex with someone if they were being forced to go along with it. Consent is sexy and all that,” Harry offered, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t put it past the President to threaten people’s families and then order people around. For fuck’s sake, there are people without tongues walking around and I can totally fix that! I know how to regrow tongues and before you ask, that is a long story.”

Finnick had gone pale at his mention of the President threatening people’s families and Harry figured he had the right idea.

“I haven’t been here long but I know one thing already. This city is fucked up, smiling and laughing as kids kill each other. This stops now.”

“We’re both consenting adults though.”

“It isn’t consent when there’s a gun to your head or to the heads of people you love,” Harry retorted, crossing his arms. “If saying no leads to you dead, it isn’t consent. But for the record, if and when this stops, if I can help put a stop to this, I would totally have sex with you, if you wanted it.”

“How… What… Who are you?”

“Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, Lord Gryffindor. The Man Who Conquered. And a wizard.”

Prongs leapt out of his fingers, the patronus scenting the air and galloping around the room only to come to a stop next to Finnick, who startled. His shoulders curled inward and his body stiffened, his fingers curling around like they wanted to hold something. Two seconds later, Finnick seemed to deflate, his eyes softening and his body trembling. Prongs whinnied quietly before vanishing.

Harry took another step closer to Finnick, who looked at him with wide eyes. Harry reached out and lightly grasped Finnick’s hands, squeezed and then backed off, heading towards the door.

“Is it good sex?”

Harry turned around, blinked. There was a small, subtle light in Finnick’s eyes, maybe hope, maybe mischief. “Hmm?”

“The sex we’re having. Is it good? ‘Cause I have a reputation to uphold.”

Harry snorted, grinning a little. “Yeah, it’s good.”

Finnick smiled, this time it was a true smile, not the one he wore when Harry had walked into the room. Not a public relations smile. A true one. Harry smiled back and walked out.

Chapter Text

 

Alex led the guy into their home, through the door and up the stairs and turned into his room. The others were still at work, at the hospital, so he hoped that they would get at least an hour’s worth of time alone. The guy he had brought home looked at him, his green eyes intent as he looked Alex over, his black hair reaching down to his shoulders and the scar on his forehead intriguing. But none of them drew Alex’s attention more than the heat in his eyes.

“You ever done this before? Brought a guy home?” Harry questioned, looking around the small and sparsely furnished room before focusing on him.

Alex shook his head. “Never seen you before but I did kiss a guy back in high school. Got a good blowjob back in med school.”

“In town for business,” Harry said, taking a step over towards him, closing the distance between them and backing Alex up to the door. Alex watched as he stripped off his shirt, the dark green thing he had been wearing, and his eyes widened at the few scars that littered Harry’s chest.

Alex did the same, peeling off his sweaty shirt and dropped it onto the floor, hearing his shirt hit the floor with a light thump. “I don’t… know...”

“I can start,” Harry whispered, leaning into press his lips to Alex’s and wrapping his arms around him.

Alex moaned into the kiss, drifting towards Harry and trying to get closer. Kissing a guy was different than kissing a girl, than kissing Izzie and he had to tip his chin further up, make up for the difference in height. Harry was definitely more muscular than any of the girls he had had one night stands with but it wasn’t the kind of muscle that the man had gone to the gym for. And with the scars… He wondered where Harry had gotten them and then one of Harry’s hands circled his waist, dropping down to palm his cock through his jeans and drew a strangled gasp from him.

“Fuck,” Alex muttered as his heart began to race and heat built in his stomach and at the base of his spine. A few drops of sweat rolled down his forehead as he reached over to tug Harry into a heated kiss, wet and sharp. His cock jolted, hardening and leaking pre-cum.

“That feel good?” Harry questioned, amusement and heat in his green eyes.

Alex snorted and pushed him back. Harry went with it, backing up without looking and stopping at the foot of the bed. “Of course it felt good, idiot.”

“Come here,” Harry urged, smirking over at him and patting the bed. “We going to have a one night stand or what?”

Alex hesitated only briefly, taking a few steps before Harry reached out, palms up toward him. “I’ve got us covered here.”

“I don’t need anyone,” Alex said, frowning.

Harry raised an eyebrow, still holding out his hands, waiting. “I’m not judging you here. It’s just sex. Good sex, I hope.”

Alex rolled his eyes and dropped his hands in Harry’s, following his tug to the bed and sitting down. He shrugged off his shoes and Harry slipped in between his legs, tipping his chin up to press his lips to his. He groaned, going with Harry’s next light push and lying on his back on the bed.

“Your roomates around?” Harry whispered, crawling up onto the bed with him and hovering above him.

“No…” Alex replied, shaking his head and moaning as Harry dipped down to lick a nipple and arched up into him. “They’re… fuck… at the hospital.”

“They doctors too?”

“Hmmm.”

Harry grinned above him and traced his fingers across his skin, causing goosebumps to appear. His fingers ghosted over Alex’s scar from the shooter, his green eyes narrowing momentarily, before continuing down and helping him take off his jeans. Alex wriggled out of them and Harry slipped off his pants too, their movements bringing them closer together.

Harry slid back down, his hands trailing down Alex’s stomach and thighs, hovering over his hard cock and continuing down to press inside him. Alex jolted up only to be held down by Harry’s other hand, his eyes going wide as pleasure sparked throughout his body. The intrusion was new but not unpleasant, not painful. He groaned, hearing Harry mutter something under his breath and then his fingers were coated with lube, slipping further inside him until they hit the spot.

Harry swallowed up his whine, pressing down into him for a kiss as he opened Alex up. First one finger as Alex got used to it, squirming around briefly, breathing heavily, and then a second finger joined the first, pleasure sparking in his nerves. Heat flew through him as Harry withdrew his fingers, stroked up and down his cock before lining up and thrusting in. Alex yelled out, arching up and curling his toes as pleasure continued to build.

“You okay?” Harry whispered, a little hint of gritted teeth under his voice and more than enough husky arousal in it. “Need a minute?”

“No!”

“Alex…”

Move. ” Alex pleaded, sucking in a deep breath and scrabbling around in the sheets underneath him and curling his fingers into the bed. Harry peered at him, reached out and rubbed circles on his hips, his eyes focused on him entirely then began to move. Alex could feel his cheeks redden a little, at the attention that Harry was paying to him and then surrendered to what his body was telling him, the pleasure hissing through him as Harry once again hit that spot inside him.

“You look beautiful like this, you know,” Harry muttered, withdrawing a little and then thrusting back in hard, skin hitting skin, and moving his hand to stroke over his legs and inner thighs. “Sweaty and fucked out.”

Alex moaned, scrambling up to frantically yank Harry into a kiss, feeling the little nipping kisses that Harry pressed to his mouth as they moved together and then the pleasure boiled over. Heat and pressure sparked as his toes curled and his fingers clutched at Harry’s shoulders. Sweat dripped down from both of them and his vision blacked out, seeing Harry come too out of the corner of his eyes.



 

 

Harry woke up the next morning, his arm wrapped around Alex’s waist and Alex curled into him. He had heard the guy’s roomates come back in late evening and maybe one or two in the early morning, probably an unpredictable schedule for residents at a hospital. He himself was still running on London time and the house was quiet and with a quick reach of his magic, he knew that no one was up and awake yet.

He peered down at Alex Karev, the guy who had taken him home from the bar last night, lightly running his fingers over Alex’s shoulder and bare arm. He remembered feeling the small wound in his stomach that he had run his fingers over, remembered sensing the metal underneath his fingers. He wondered what the story was, wondered how Alex had gotten himself shot and then sighed, reaching up to his own hair and ran a hand through it.

He didn’t have anywhere to be this early in the morning but his stomach was about to grumble so he slowly, carefully got out of bed. Extracted himself from Alex and slipped on his shirt and jeans, quickly used the bathroom in the hallway and tiptoed downstairs. Harry easily enough found the kitchen and rummaged around for breakfast ingredients, hearing the clock strike 5am.



 

 

Meredith woke up to the sound of the alarm going off, hearing Derek groan and turn over. She sighed and elbowed him, sleepily crawling out of bed to the smell of bacon, eggs and coffee floating up from downstairs. The smell woke her up enough to glance back to Derek, who often got up early to make breakfast but he was in bed this morning. She glanced to him, seeing him blearily open his eyes, and then walked out of their room, nodding to Jackson as he fell into step with her.

Lexie climbed down from the attic behind them and was about to step into the bathroom when Meredith saw her inhale deeply too. Her eyes widened as she pulled up her hair into a tail, racing into the bathroom and stepping out a minute later. There were still bags underneath her eyes, dreams of the shooting echoing throughout the house. Just a few nights ago, everyone had woken up to Jackson screaming. Alex had been the one to go into Jackson’s room and wake him up.

But with Lexie, Derek and Jackson waking up and being here… Who was cooking?

“It’s not Alex, is it? ‘Cause he’s a shit cook,” Jackson muttered.

“Don’t be an asshole, Jackson. I’m not cooking,” Alex said as he stepped out of his room and closed the door behind him.

“Says the asshole,” Jackson retorted.

Meredith rolled her eyes. “If we’re all up here, who’s cooking? April?”

“Here,” April called out as she stepped out of her room. “Who’s what?”

“Someone’s cooking downstairs and it smells delicious,” Jackson muttered, leading the way downstairs.

Meredith followed the other residents, sparing a glance to Alex, who shrugged. Alex looked rather… lose, more content than Meredith had seen him in a few weeks. “Bring someone else home last night?”

“It’s probably another bar girl,” Jackson said, smirking at Alex.

“Hey, I’m good in bed. No one’s said I wasn’t,” Alex replied, leering at them and following Lexie and April into the kitchen.

Everyone tumbled into the kitchen, the smells of bacon, eggs, potatoes and coffee luring them in. Meredith ran right into Lexie, who had stopped right in the doorway.

“Lexie?”

“Who’s the strange man cooking?” Lexie questioned, turning to look at them all. “Did April bring someone home?”

Meredith raised an eyebrow and looked around Lexie’s shoulder, trying to get a good look at the person. She saw Alex’s cheeks redden out of the corner of her eyes and then Jackson scrambled around her, heading right for the coffee machine.

“Coming through,” Jackson muttered. “I don’t care who’s cooking. It smells delicious.”

“Thank you. There should be enough for everyone in the house.”

“British? Who brought a British guy home? He’s cute,” Lexie questioned, looking around at the group of residents. She eyed April, who vehemently shook her head, then threw up her hands. “Whoever brought him home gets brownie points from me.”

“Name’s Harry, not British guy. Thanks though.”

Lexie giggled and went right for the bacon and eggs, snatching up a plate and piling on food. “We haven’t had homemade breakfast in a while.”

A groan drew everyone’s attention to Jackson, who blinked and lowered the coffee mug in his hands. “What? It’s good coffee. Tastes like it’s right from the grinder.”

April hummed and went to grab a mug, helping herself to the coffee machine. That left Meredith and Alex in the doorway and she turned to look at Alex, who subtly shrugged, and then she grinned a little, heading for the food.

“Did someone cook this morning?”

Meredith turned to look as Derek came downstairs fully dressed, his hair groomed and washed.

“Yeah, Harry did. It’s all delicious, including the coffee.”

“Hey, what’s the scar on your forehead? You should get a plastic surgeon to look at that,” Jackson remarked, as they all watched Harry wash the last of the dishes by hand.

Harry, the British guy, turned to look at them, eying each of them.

“Did someone say plastic surgeon needed?”

“Mark!”

“Did someone give him a key?” Meredith questioned, as Mark came in through the back door and headed right for the food.

“No, I’m fine with it,” Harry answered, shrugging and snorting at everyone. “It’s a long story as to how I got it though so I’ll just go with it’s classified information. Anyway, thanks for the night, Alex. I left my number on your side table if you want more sex. Or you know… if you want to go on a date.”

Everyone turned to look at Alex, their eyes wide and blinking. Alex’s cheeks went bright red and his eyes went wide, like a deer in headlights. Harry grinned softly, walked around Jackson, April, Lexie and Mark, waved to Alex and then stepped out the back door, vanishing into the rising sun.

Chapter Text

Barry helped himself to a drink from Oliver’s bar, watched as Felicity, Kendra, Cisco, and Thea did the same. The fire was roaring, producing heat that he stepped towards, with the floor to ceiling windows behind him and Starling City at night. The city was beautiful in the evening, the stars were out and the city lights took up the space that the sun did.

Felicity grabbed her own drink and headed towards him, grinning. Barry heard Thea and Cisco arguing about Thea’s codename and he matched Felicity’s grin. It was nice having their teams together in one room, with the few exceptions of Laurel, Caitlin and Diggle.

“Hey, Barry,” Felicity said, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Hey, new CEO of Palmer Technologies,” Barry returned, his smile widening.

Felicity’s cheeks reddened. “It’s funny how that happened.”

Barry snorted. “How’s Sara doing? Is she alright?”

“She… left,” Felicity remarked, shrugging and taking a sip of her drink. “So… There’s an Earth-2, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been kind of trippy lately. There’s another Flash, another Harrison Wells...”

Felicity’s eyes narrowed. “Zoom?”

“Yeah. We’re… working on it but this obviously took priority,” Barry remarked, glancing down at his own drink and taking a sip of it. He wouldn’t get drunk but it tasted good.

Felicity saw his gaze and smiled. “I’m sure I can cook something up for you here.”

“It’s fine. I should probably stay alert anyway. Cisco and Kendra don’t know much about the guy we’re facing.”

Felicity nodded, frowning in thought and turning to look at Oliver, as the other man fixed himself a drink. “I wonder what Oliver’s doppelganger is like.”

Barry looked at Oliver himself and smiled. Oliver Queen, the man who had been the first to believe that Barry could be a hero.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Felicity questioned, focusing on him again.

“Actually, I am.”

“Good. Good.”

“Harry. I’m seeing Harry Potter.”

Felicity blinked, tilted her head in confusion. “Harry… is that short for Harriet?”

“No. He’s called Harry.” Barry watched her, watched as realization set in.

“You’re gay?”

“Bisexual. And he’s wonderful,” Barry whispered, grinning at the words.

Felicity smiled. “Good. I’m glad.”




 

 

“Barr, what are you planning on doing with Harry? Your Harry, I mean, boyfriend Harry, not our Harry,” Cisco asked later, after they had defeated Vandal Savage. “You told Felicity about him.”

“I haven’t told him,” Barry replied, shrugging. “He’s a teacher. I don’t want… This is too dangerous.”

“Okay, just checking. You are on your fifth date though.”

“I’ll… I do like him,” Barry said, shrugging in thought. “He… I don’t know.”

Cisco nodded and studied him. “You going out to dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m picking him up at the school where he teaches,” Barry replied, grinning. “And then to his house later.”

“Happy sex then,” Cisco teased, grinning widely.

Barry snorted and started to take off the suit, rolling his eyes at Cisco’s short laugh. “Thank you.”




 

 

“I hear The Flash and Arrow teamed up again,” Harry said, as he slid into the passenger seat of the car.

“Yeah. They did, huh?”

Harry raised an eyebrow as Barry started the car and headed to his favorite diner. “You sound exhausted. You sure you’re up for dinner out tonight?”

“I totally am. I’ve worked up an appetite,” Barry answered, turning left on the main street of Central City and right into the diner’s parking lot. As if to confirm his words, Barry’s stomach growled and Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin. “It was very busy at the precinct today.”

Harry let out a quiet laugh and nodded. “I’m hungry too. You said this was your favorite?”

“They have good burgers and the Best fries.”

“I can definitely hear the capital letter there,” Harry remarked, as Barry parked the car and they got out. “Alright, I’m sold.”

“You have a good day?” Barry asked, as they walked over to the bar slash diner. The bar had a big, patio out in front of it, with a firepit right in the center of it. A fire was roaring in the pit and Harry walked up to it, appreciating the warmth. It had been a chilly winter, with the latest snow fall just melting this morning. There was a line at the counter to order so they got in line, behind a few older couples.

“Yeah, I did. Thanks. Apparently, I’m the favorite teacher or something at the school,” Harry answered, shrugging and grinning a little. “The kids did a thing today.”

Barry smiled and as they advanced in line, their hands touched. Barry looked to the man next to him, seeing his green eyes and dark hair, seeing the scar on his forehead and entwined their fingers. Harry’s eyes softened a little and he tightened his grip.

It had been a long few days, ever since Vandal Savage had come into the city and threatened the world. Threatened Kendra and then everyone had realized that Kendra and Carter were reincarnated soulmates who occasionally had wings. And Cisco had obviously been hurt when Kendra had taken off with Carter to another city, leaving Cisco behind.

Barry had gone back in time too, had gone back to a few hours earlier in the evening. Right after, he had seen his teammates and friends die right before his eyes. Flashes of the fight ranged through his mind and he winced, his heart beginning to race as he felt the speedforce jolt through his body. Lightning sparked between his fingertips and the memory of Oliver telling him to Run, Barry, run, rushed through him.

“... Barry?”

He felt a tug and then both of his hands were being held. “Barry, you’re safe. You’re alright.”

Barry let out a strangled gasp as his vision righted itself. He looked up at Harry, who had tugged him over to a chair over in the corner of the patio and had sat Barry down in a chair. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he stared at Harry, who was kneeling right in front of him and looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re safe,” Harry whispered, frowning and still holding his hands within his. One of his thumbs was tracing circles on Barry’s left palm and he focused on that, his heart slowing down with the motions. “Did something happen in the precinct today? A bad shooting?”

“I… Yeah, something like that,” Barry whispered, flexing his fingers. “I… I’m okay.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his frown skeptical. “We could go to my place and order in. We don’t have to stay.”

“No, you were looking forward to… this place,” Barry said, letting out a deep breath and finally just dropping his head onto Harry’s shoulder. The other man’s arms came up around him as Harry helped him to stand.

“Come on. Pizza’s just as good as this,” Harry murmured, holding onto him for a few more minutes. Barry melted into the hug, wrapping his own arms around Harry in return. Harry’s hugs were the best, he had discovered. He felt utterly safe in Harry’s arms, no Eobard Thawne, no Zoom, no Vandal Savage, could get to him here. There was a sense of security, of safety that Harry radiated and Barry loved it. “I ought to have read the news otherwise I wouldn’t have--”

“No. It’s not your fault. Pizza sounds good.”

 





As soon as they were both done eating at Harry’s place, Barry looked at the other man, raising an eyebrow and then he surged towards him. Harry met him in the middle, their lips meeting. Barry groaned into the heated kiss as Harry nipped and licked his way into his mouth.

“Bed,” Barry urged.

Harry grinned and slid off the stool, pulling Barry closer. “The Question of the hour is will we make it?”

Barry snorted, his cock hardening at the heated look in Harry’s eyes. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry, and his heart racing for an entirely different reason than before. “Slow. Slow is good.”

“Hmm?” Harry’s eyes narrowed before he nodded, grinning even wider at him. “I can do slow, yeah.”

Harry pulled him closer, so that there was no space between them. Barry gasped as their cocks touched through their jeans, both cocks  jumping to attention and Barry aching with it. Harry slipped off his shirt and Barry did the same, taking in his fill of Harry’s chest. Harry wasn’t too muscular but he was slim and fit, not a state that would be achieved in the gym. Harry had a body built for speed and so did Barry, though Harry was a few inches taller.

Harry trailed his hands over Barry’s shoulders, leaning down to press feather light kisses to his skin. Barry shivered as goosebumps followed in Harry’s wake on his skin, his hands holding Harry close. Harry walked him backward, leaning in for another kiss as they walked to Harry’s bedroom.

Barry groaned as Harry leaned in, licking and nipping his neck, trailing up to his mouth and leaving little nipping kisses. They turned left at the hallway and then Harry backed him up through a doorway, his fingers hovering over a nipple and tweaking it. Barry moaned as his feet hit the bed, digging his fingers into Harry’s back as they paused to strip their jeans and shoes off.

Once his shoes and jeans were off, Barry lay down on the bed, sinking onto the comfortable mattress, enjoying the softness of the sheets. He had wondered if Harry was wealthy but had never stopped to ask, wondering why Harry was just a teacher. A light touch to his cock jolted his awareness back and he whined, as Harry raised an eyebrow.

“You still thinking?” Harry questioned quietly, withdrawing his hand from Barry’s inner thighs. “Are we going for making you not think or… Cause I can definitely do that.”

Barry grinned and arched up, meeting the other man for a kiss. “With the first option. Yes.”

“There was no other option but whatever,” Harry muttered, his voice husky with arousal, grinning and lowering his fingers down to rub at Barry’s nipples, tweaking both at the same time. Pleasure shocked his body, his toes curling and heat building at the base of his spine. His hands traveled down, going past Barry’s waist and meeting his cock and avoiding it, smoothing their way down his skin.

Barry moaned and arched into the touch, trying to get Harry to touch his cock, his already very hard cock. Harry smirked and shook his head, leaning down and licking his nipples erect.  Fingers traced patterns on his stomach and moved down to his inner thighs, lifting him briefly enough for Harry to slip a pillow underneath him. Barry whined again as Harry’s hands stayed away from his cock only to rub around the rim of his hole.

Feather light touches to his arse made pleasure shoot through him and Harry pulled away momentarily, opening a drawer and pulling out a vial of lotion. Barry reached for him, his fingers curling around Harry’s sides, making grabby motions. Harry grinned and coated his fingers with the lube, sliding down to trace over his cock and then slipping down.

Fuck ,” Barry exclaimed, hearing the hoarseness to his voice and arching up as Harry rubbed over his balls and then slipped into his hole. His toes curled down into the sheets and his fingers clenched, turning into fists.

Harry grinned, his green eyes wide and his breathing growing faster. “You close yet?”

Barry whined as Harry crooked his finger further into him, slipping out a little and then back in, wet and hot. His cock was hard and aching and wanted to be touched, damn it.

“Can you wait?” Harry questioned, catching his eyes and holding them. “Wait until I’m in you?”

“I…” Barry trailed off, pleasure sparking everywhere and maybe literal lightning sparks flying over his skin but the touches and Harry’s fingers were holding him together. Another touch to his cock and his mind melted into mush, pleasure building and heat building and nothing else. His cock ached and was so very hard and… “ Yes.”

“Good boy,” Harry whispered, running his hands down Barry’s chest and stomach and tracing his cock. Harry leaned down, licked a stripe up his cock and Barry jolted up, arching right up into Harry’s waiting mouth. Harry swallowed down the exclamation then moved back down, slipping a finger and then two into him, crooking the way that Barry loved. Harry hit the spot within minutes and Barry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold on and not come until he was full of Harry.

“You’re so fucked out now,” Harry murmured, breathing hard as he moved his fingers within Barry. “So wet. Do I dare add a third finger?”

Barry whimpered, clenching onto the sheets beneath him and then Harry slipped his other hand into his fingers, entwining them another way as he slid a third finger into him. Barry writhed, pushing back onto Harry’s fingers and heard him let out a strangled breath.

“Good. So good,” Harry said, crooking his fingers once again and then withdrawing. Barry heard the cap of the lube bottle open again and then yelled out as Harry’s cock slid right into him, hitting his spot once again. “Barry, you’re so tight!”

Another moan left his mouth as Barry opened his eyes, looking up at Harry as he moved within him. He slipped out a little, lube and come mixing together and creating a wet spot on the bed and creating sloppy noises. Skin hit skin as Harry slid back in, his green eyes wide as he watched Barry. “You can come anytime. You don’t have to wait now, Barry.”

Pleasure and heat were boiling together in his body and Barry clung to Harry, holding the man to him as he moved within him. Harry brushed his hands over Barry’s cock again, this time wrapping his hole hand around his cock and rolling up, pumping up and down, twisting and then Barry yelled out as he came, feeling his muscles clench and bring Harry over the edge too.

He blacked out as he came, pleasure overriding his body.




 

 

When he woke up, fingers brushed through his hair and ran lightly across his over-stimulated body. He whined and heard Harry let out a quiet laugh before withdrawing. “Hey, Barry.”

“That…” Barry swallowed and tried again on a dry throat.

“I fucked you until you stopped thinking,” Harry remarked, grinning slightly. “It was good for me too, in case you’re wondering.”

“Good. That’s good,” Barry murmured, curling into Harry’s side and burrowing down onto the bed. “‘m staying.”

“Alright. You’ve been running for a while the past few days,” Harry whispered, stroking Barry’s side and wrapping his arm around him. “Need to recharge and all that. Go ahead. Just know you can run back to me if you need anything, up to and including backup. I felt the timeline change. You must have really been exhausted today.”

Barry’s eyes drooped closed, leaning into Harry’s fingers as they danced patterns on his skin. He hummed in reply to his words and then shock jolted through him as he replayed Harry’s words in his mind. He blinked his eyes open and stared at Harry, looking at the other man with wide eyes.

Harry stared back at him with wide eyes too. “Barry?”

“You… know?”

Harry blinked and then heaved out a sigh. “I thought you were asleep.”

“You know?”

“I know,” Harry answered idly, his lips twitching up into a small grin. “How fast are you going these days?”

Chapter Text

 

“Haran. You shall be named Haran. I love you, son.”

The baby boy blinked up at his parents, his grey eyes wide and curious as he took in the ruins around them. The boy watched his parents and reached up a hand to the omega who had birthed him and his bearer reached back, holding onto his son’s little fingers tightly. The ruins of the temple around them were quiet for now, the dark of the night sending everyone else to sleep.

No one paid any mind to the airbender relics or the murals around them as they worked and lived in the temple. It had just been an empty place to live far from the Fire Nation, somewhere you had to really travel to get to and Haran was the second babe born here. No one noticed the little spinny toys blowing in the non existent wind around the family. No one noticed the small, thin piece of wood or the ring or the beautiful cloak that had appeared next to the boy. No one noticed the small puff of air he blew out of his mouth that ruffled his bearer’s hair.

The Northern Air Temple housed a new generation of people, none of them airbenders, and the second baby to born amidst the ruins 82 years after the Air Nomad genocide. One of them was an inventor, who had just lost his wife, and now had to contend with a paralyzed son. But they were survivors and little Haran was as much survivor as everyone else was, perhaps even more so as he took his first breaths in this new world.

 


 

 

Harry looked back at the Air Temple ruins sixteen years later, standing tall and healthy at the corner of temple wall. Teo was right next to him, in the glider that Harry had helped to build.

“Are you sure about this, Harry? No one will tell anyone else that you…”

“I want to learn more about the Airbenders,” Harry remarked, shrugging and pulling out the Elder Wand that had come with him. “There had to be some reason why I was born… you know…”

Teo nodded, his eyes narrowing. “You’re the first Airbender to be born in a hundred years. I get it even if I can’t come with you.”

“I’ll be on the run, Teo. And I can’t imagine your father not missing you. And I don’t want to draw attention to the village.”

“You were always the old one in our group, Harry. You were the first to present after all.”

“Hey, I’m only 16.”

“You sound older. That’s all, like you already know stuff. I suppose it’s alright if you leave. I’ll keep your secret.”

“Thanks.”

Harry watched as Teo turned to leave, wheeling off to join their other friends, and then sighed. There had to be a reason why he had been the first airbender in a hundred years. They didn’t even know whether the Avatar was alive after all though the last trading party to come through had said something about hope being alive. And then there had been that one late afternoon when he had explored the hidden chamber within the temple, the one that held all of the past Avatars.

All of the statues of the Avatar’s had lit up, their eyes glowing white. Roku, Kyoshi, all the way back up the temple building. He had felt something that night, something like an ancient power that was akin to what he was. It had felt like what conjuring a patronus did, like peace and light and safety. He had realized it that night then, realized that the Avatar was alive and had told Teo.

He drew out the Elder Wand, feeling the slight hint of his old magic hum around him. The wand answered his thought with a spark of warmth, flashing between existence and then growing. The wand itself grew until it reached Harry’s height and then two limbs shot out from it at the top and two smaller ones at the bottom. Lightweight green material folded outward from both ends.

Harry grinned and the Elder Wand hummed in reply, eager to please, and then he leapt off the cliff, bending the air around him for flight. The air flowed around him and he whooped out as the night sky clung to him. This was flying on a higher level than on a broomstick and he loved it, had loved it ever since the wand had turned itself into a glider for him. He bent the air around him, feeling it on the tips of his hair.

He flew south into the night, joining any air currents when possible.



 

 

Several months later, he finally made it to the Eastern Air Temple, having flown through most of the Earth Kingdom. He saw much of the destruction and chaos that the Fire Nation had caused, likening the Fire Lord Ozai, Sozin and Azulon’s reign to Hitler in his old world. Hitler had been bent on genocide himself and so had Voldemort and Grindewald. Though Hitler hadn’t been particularly successful compared with the Fire Nation, Sozin had wiped out the Air Nomads with the exception of the Avatar.

Harry sighed and swept up into the clouds as he surveyed the Eastern Air Temple, seeing the devastation that Sozin had ordered. The Temple was in ruins, like the Northern Air Temple had been. He hadn’t been able to learn much about the Air Nomads but he hoped… Maybe there were some surviving scrolls left in this temple.

He stretched out with a small amount of magic, searching the Temple. He didn’t have much magic with him in this life, in this world, but he did have air bending. He could feel the eddies and currents of the air around him, sense the oxygen in someone’s body and fly. He also had his cloak, the Resurrection stone and the Elder Wand but he only really used the wand. And occasionally the cloak.

He hadn’t tried to use the stone yet though, hadn’t tried to use it because he feared… He feared that he wouldn’t be able to talk to his parents anymore or his friends. He was in a different world, one where if anyone in the Fire Nation got his scent, he would be chased to the ends of the world. Though if that ever happened in the near future, perhaps he could tell whoever was chasing him, that he was the Avatar and take some of the heat off the real Avatar.

He wondered where the Avatar was now, wondered if the boy had learned all four elements yet. As he had been traveling through the Earth Kingdom, he had heard about the Northern Water Tribe being attacked by the Fire Nation. Had heard that the Fire Nation had been resoundingly defeated by the Avatar and the Moon Spirit.

He didn’t expect anyone in the Temple but he was proved wrong when he saw an older man down on one of the balconies. The man looked like a monk, with a long grey beard and yellow sash around his chest. As Harry was flying into land next to him, the monk peered up at him and waved, smiling.

“Hello there!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, pressing his fingers tightly into the glider/wand and feeling it shrink down. A minute later, it was the size of the Elder Wand again and he tucked it into a pocket of his pants. The monk stayed where he was, sitting cross legged and looking up at him with a huge smile, like he didn’t expect any violence or any disturbance from him.

“Who are you? Are you a…”

“An air bender? No, but I can see you are. Are you by chance the Avatar?”

“No. I’m not. I was… looking for answers though so I came here.”

“I am Guru Pathik. Answers may come to you at this temple or they may come to you.” Guru Pathik blinked up at him as Harry walked over to him and sat down across from him, noting the subtle beta scent of the man. The man posed no threat, wasn’t standing up to attack and his own magic and senses said this older monk was alright. “You are the first air bender to be born in a hundred years and yet the Avatar knows nothing about you. Were you born to an Air Nomad couple?”

“No. My name’s Haran but I… my parents are refugees living in the Northern Air Temple.”

“Ahh, I see. You are searching for an explanation as to why you are the first air bender born since they were all killed.”

Harry sighed. “I suppose. I… This isn’t…my first… circus, if you know what I’m saying.”

Guru Pathik blinked, his eyes lighting up with interest. “I lived among the Air Nomads before the Fire Nation began its war. There were many knowledgeable men and women amongst the Temples and now there are only you, the Avatar and me.”

“I could talk with the Avatar but I’ve heard he’s only a boy.”

The monk’s eyes narrowed as he stared at him, dipping his head in a nod. “You are the one that I dreamt of a very long time ago. You and the Avatar’s fates are entwined, the only two Air Nomads living. You can draw on the dead to ask your questions and yet yo do not. Why is that?”

Harry started, his eyes widening, his arms rising up and then dropping down to his lap. “You dreamt of me? The air bender who can talk with the dead?”

“Yes, you and the Avatar. I dreamt I would be able to help both of you if I came here.”

Pathik studied him, remaining quiet for the next few minutes as Harry pondered his words. Birds chirped around them and some even came to perch on the monk’s shoulders and legs, making Harry miss Hedwig. His old friend had been gone for a long time by the time Harry had died.

“The Avatar can talk with his past lives,” Pathik remarked, shrugging slightly to not jostle the animals on his shoulders. He dipped his hand into a pocket in his clothes and pulled out some bird seed. The birds flocked to his hands, some small enough to fit in his palm. “Why do you not feel the same?”

“I don’t… Before I… came here, I could talk with my friends and family from before. I don’t even know if the rock will work now, in a different world and with a different body.”

“The magic did not follow the body, Haran. It followed your soul and your soul was delivered here, to become an airbender. For what reason, you may yet find out if you wait with me here for a few days.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and then stretched his body, standing up. “At least, I had my heat a few days ago. I don’t have anything to distract me while I explore this temple.”

Pathik dipped his head in a nod and then flopped back, disrupting the birds who had finished their seeds, onto the stone ground. “I will be here if you have other questions.”

“Hermione would be so pleased to see me now,” Harry muttered as he walked off, stepping over some ruins of the temple. He really didn’t expect to find anything else as he wandered through the three mountains that housed the temple.

There were three pagodas of the temple, each connected by bridges that were toiling into disrepair. There were wisps of spiritual energy everywhere he looked and as he peered right at one, it turned into an older woman, who had an arrow on her bald head. Harry flinched and continued walking, turning down a narrow hallway of one of the pagodas and finding a pile of skeletons. Skeletons that wore tatters of Air Nomad clothing were surrounded by helmets of Fire Nation soldiers. The wisps of energy in the hall all turned into women, some old, some young while others were just children, all with wide, fearful eyes. Shouts and cries filled the hallway, screams and the smell of burning flesh filled his nose and he ran, backing up and out of the temple itself and down into one of the smaller buildings. He breathed a sigh of relief at the fresh air and looked around at where he had ended up as his heart slowed down.

This building looked like it was used as a stable, big windows opening up to the outside on the walls. Though there was no glass in the windows now, probably having been burned out by the fire benders. He wondered what kind of animal the Air Nomads used that lived in stables as big as this, noting the big, metal ring in the center of the aisle. Perhaps a teething ring for young animals with big jaws.

He hesitated at going further into the stables, hearing the scratching and clawing and cries of spider bats further inward. Harry sighed again and then headed the way he came, walking over the bridge again and heading into the main pagoda, looking up at the beheaded statue of a past airbender. Or maybe it was a past Avatar. He idly looked around for the head of the statue and saw it in the corner, walking over towards it and staring down at it.

He let out a noise of consideration and then moved into a bending stance, sweeping his feet around and bent the air underneath the head of stone. He breathed into the moves and watched as he bent the stone head up, up, up onto the shoulders of the statue. A statue of a middle aged woman sat before him, her long hair flowing down on her back and her arms crossed in front of her.

The arrow was once again on her forehead, like his scar had been on his in his old world.

“I was Avatar long ago, the Air Nomad chosen before Aang.”

Harry let out a quiet yelp and turned to his left, seeing the hazy, spirit next to him. The woman looked like she was in her mid 60’s, her grey hair curling around her in a braid. It made her look fierce, despite what Harry knew of the Air Nomads.

“So it was… you, Kuruk, Kyoshi, Roku and then Aang?”

“Yes. You are the one who can see the long dead. You have a very strong connection to the spirit world, young one.”

He sighed as he studied her. She looked like she was about to drift off, like she wouldn’t be here for very long. “I have… questions.”

Avatar Yangchen peered at him with her grey eyes. “I do not know who brought you here, young Air Nomad, but I am pleased. You and Aang need to meet each other. You are young and yet very old. He will need guidance.”

“But…”

“You are a natural airbender. Whoever brought you here must have seen that. Together, perhaps you and Aang can rebuild the Air Nomads.”

“Alright. But what about your culture? I wasn’t born when your culture was still alive.”

Yangchen’s eyes narrowed and then she turned, whistling to the other spirits around her. “Some of us have trouble getting to the spirit world, young man. If we tell you all, will you aid them in traveling to the spirit world?”

“How come they have trouble? Shouldn’t it be…”

“Spirits of a violent death often have trouble finding their way.”

Harry nodded and then gestured to the outside of the temple, to the late evening sun. “It’d be nice to do this outside, I think.”

 


 

By the time Harry was finished guiding the spirits to the spirit world, night had fallen and the remains of his dinner sat next to him. The spirit of Avatar Yangchen had since vanished and Harry was alone but for Guru Pathik, who he had rejoined. The stars twinkled above them in a cloudless sky and Harry now knew a lot about the Air Nomad culture and what the world had lost when Fire Lord Sozin had wiped them out.

Being the spiritual aid to the spirits had exhausted him mentally and physically, and he had learned how to meditate into the spirit world. He exchanged idle glances with the Guru and then flopped backward onto the stone underneath him, curling the cloak around him for warmth. Sleep met him easily as the settled spiritual energy around him lulled him into dreamland.



 

A rough tongue met him late at night as it licked up his face. He yelped, startling awake and jolting upward only to hit the big head of the creature who had awoken him. Harry’s eyes widened as he looked up at the animal that had joined him and the monk, seeing the six feet and the large body. It almost looked like a bison, with big, sturdy looking horns that jutted out of its head. He knew that the ghostly airbenders had said that they bonded with air bison but he hadn’t imagined… This sky bison was huge.

It also had an arrow that spanned the length of its body, from head to really big tail.

“He is a sky bison,” Guru Pathik remarked quietly. “One in pain.”

Harry watched as the bison stared down at them with dark brown eyes, eyes that spoke of pain and fear. Though there was at least a little confusion in them too as he looked Harry over. His heart skipped a beat at the look and realized what the bison thought of him.

“Oh, I’m not the Avatar. I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, tentatively reaching out a hand to wait. “But you look like you’ve been through some shit.”

“He is looking for Aang,” Pathik said, searching the bison’s eyes. “They were the first airbenders and this one has been through a lot.”

Harry started to get up but then the bison growled, glaring down at them. He sat back down, crossing his legs, and Guru Pathik copied him, grinning a little. The moon was still out, still shining brightly down at them and Harry smiled a little, looking up at the bison.

“You’re alright now. We won’t hurt you.”

The bison growled again, this time a little quieter, but Harry stayed on the ground, hearing Pathik start to snore. Harry slowly fell back asleep too, dropping his arm to the ground and curling up in his cloak.




Loud, snuffling breaths woke him up a few hours later, accompanied by the first few streams of light. Harry slowly woke up, blinking his eyes open, seeing Pathik wake up as well. The older man gestured up to the small meditation circle over on the high cliff.

“Go get some fruit and make a trail up there so our friend knows where we are.”

Harry nodded and quietly stood up, stretching and rocking on the heels of his feet before walking off to gather the fruit. As he gathered enough fruit, chewing on one piece, he laid a trail up to the meditation spot, joining the Guru and sitting down to wait.

 



The bison woke up not an hour later and Harry watched in delight as the creature began to follow his trail, chewing on each piece of fruit that Harry had laid out. The sky bison trotted up the cliff, leaving little puffs of air in his wake and finally made it up to where Harry was standing.

Guru Pathik stood next to him, a rolled up piece of parchment in his hands. “Ahhh, it is good to see you, my friend. I hope you slept well.”

The bison grumbled low in his throat and Harry grinned and held out a tentative hand. The sky bison took a step closer and touched his nose to Harry’s palm, snuffling and gave him a lick.

“You’re friends with the Avatar, right?” Harry questioned.

The bison dipped his head in a nod, looking at him like they were already friends, like he could sense the air bender spirit within him. Harry grinned back and stroked the bison’s nose and muzzle, enjoying wrapping his fingers within the thick strands of fur.

“I can see where Aang is, with your permission,” Guru Pathik offered, stepping closer to. “Your energy is entwined with the Avatar’s.”

The bison groaned out happily and flopped onto his side, offering them his belly. Harry smiled even wider and watched as Guru Pathik reached out with his hand and tracked the bison’s chakras, speaking in soft words to the creature.

“You were full of so much love but fear is moving in where trust should be. I had a vision of helping the Avatar and yourself long before today and now I can help you both. I can help the Avatar gain control of his Avatar State. Ahh, here. You know where the Avatar is in your heart now.”

The bison groaned contentedly and as soon as Guru Pathik stood back, the animal shuffled up and onto his legs.

“Mind if I attach this to your horn? It is for the Avatar.”

The bison nodded and Guru Pathik reached up, tying the parchment to one of the creature’s horns.

“I’m coming with you too,” Harry whispered, looking into the bison’s eyes. “I want to meet the Avatar and reveal myself. I hope my presence won’t be a bother.”

The bison rumbled deep in his throat and nudged his head right into Harry’s chest. Harry laughed and stroked his fur, a meeting of kin, of airbender meeting original airbender. He had always felt alone before, missing something that he didn’t know, but now… Harry already had his things packed up in a duffel and leapt up, bending the air around him to aid in his jump up onto the bison’s back.

The bison roared out happily, loud and overjoyed as Harry settled onto his back.

“Take care, Haran.”

“You too. Thanks for the advice.” Harry bowed to the older man and then felt the bison’s muscles clench beneath him and they lifted up and off into the sky. Harry whooped out and the bison roared again, beating his tail heavily as they flew.

“It’ll be nice to know your name,” Harry whispered, melting into the bison’s fur and holding on tightly. The bison rumbled again, low in his throat, almost like a laugh and Harry grinned, watching the ground pass beneath them.



 

 

It was a week of flying until they reached the capital of the Earth Kingdom, Ba Sing Se. Harry’s eyes widened as they reached the big, walled in city, with the three rings and the walls surrounding them. Night had fallen as they reached the Inner Ring, having bypassed the Outer Wall and the Inner Wall as well as the farmland that was between the Outer Wall and the city itself.

Harry slipped down onto the bison’s head, the better to see the city down below. “This is the biggest city I’ve seen in… so many years. So many.”

The bison underneath him groaned and slowed down in the air, below the clouds in the sky, and hovered briefly, his ears perking up. Harry raised an eyebrow and held on as the bison dived down to the city, skimming above rooftops before finding a place to land. Harry looked around at the city as they landed in the tiny square, seeing the guy in a green and black robe that had a green circle edged in gold on the chest in front of them.

The man held a whistle to his lips and smirked at them, the overbearing alpha scent of the man filling the air. “Good to see you have good hearing, bison. You are to stay with me for the time being. I have plans to tend to.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he flipped off his cloak and moved to bend the air around him, pushing it forward just as the guy moved into a bending stance. Harry pushed the air towards the man in an air spear, pushing the guy onto his back. The man yelled out in surprise, having not seen Harry under the cloak.

“Who are you? What…”

Harry slipped down from the bison’s back, sparing a glance to him. “Whatever your name is, roar and roar loudly. The Avatar will hopefully hear you. I’ll keep this man back.”

The man in the green robe backed up, moving rapidly to bend the earth around them right at Harry. The bison behind Harry roared, loud and angry, pissed off. Harry bent the air near him and pushed the piece of earth off to the left, skipping circles around the man as the guy stayed planted in the stone.

Torches were lit and the citizens of the Earth Kingdom woke up around them. Yells filled the air and Harry dodged out of the way of a pair of earthen handcuffs, leaping up into the air and bending the air into another spear right at the man, vaguely wondering who he was. It had seemed like the guy had known who the bison was, had known the bison was the Avatar’s companion.

He rolled across a wall next to him, staying in front of the bison, and came up close to the man and pushed. The man yelped and flew backward and then glowing filled the air and Harry turned to look, to the north where it was coming from.

The Avatar had arrived, a glider in his hands, and an arrow on his head, as he practically flew into the small square. Three teenagers came after him, their eyes wide. Harry could sense bending energy in two of them, possibly one water bender and one earth bender as they all surrounded the bison and Harry.

In the chaos, the man had fled and Harry slowly dropped down to the ground, taking in the young boy who was the only other human airbender in the world. His eyes were glowing but the light slowly faded and grey eyes took their place, grey, wide eyes.

“APPA!!”

Harry grinned as all four kids went straight for the bison, with the Avatar jumping right onto the newly named Appa’s head. There was a smaller, lemur like animal who flew onto Appa’s head too, wrapping its winglike hands around Appa’s fur. They stayed like that for a few minutes of companionable silence, the quiet filled with joy.

Harry took in the appearance of the Avatar, seeing the young boy in front of him. He looked to be around 12 years old but Harry knew and could sense the Avatar spirit within him. This kid was more than 112 years old, given the way that the Avatar cycle worked. And the Avatar had been around for hundreds of years, perhaps even thousands.

The Avatar was also a beta while the waterbender girl was an alpha. The earthbender girl was another alpha and the nonbender boy was an alpha too, their scents mingling with their respective bending abilities.

“Uh… I hate to be the one to break the quiet but uh, Aang, did you see him airbend?”

Harry’s lips twitched up at the remark, coming from the earthbender, the blind girl that was staring right at him. The little magic he had hummed underneath his skin and the air tickled his hair, his alpha center perking up at a delicious scent. He turned to look around at the rooftops that surrounded them, trying to see where that scent was coming from.

The scent of fire, of pain, fear and anger and omega. His mate. Heat sparked in his body and that as well as anything told him his mate was a firebender. And was in Ba Sing Se, where he shouldn't be. He inhaled deeply, pulling in some air that circled a few houses away and scented that and then the teenagers in front of him drew his attention. Aang, the Avatar, the only other human airbender, looked at him with wide eyes. Eyes that had seen a lot already and that would see so much more.

“My name’s Haran, but you can call me Harry. I’m from the Northern Air Temple,” Harry said, shrugging. “I was born there 16 years ago and I can airbend.”

Aang continued to stare at him, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

“I want to join your group,” Harry finished, looking to Appa, who rumbled. “Besides, I think Ba Sing Se is in trouble, at least politically speaking. Or in trouble from the Fire Nation too. I saw that drill as Appa and I flew in.”

Tears pooled in Aang’s eyes. “You… really are an airbender. I thought... I was the last one.”


Chapter Text

 

Brandon Stark couldn’t breathe, gasping for air as the cord around his neck tightened. He stared out across the throne room as his father burned alive, still gasping for breath as he tried to reach the sword to cut the cord. He distantly heard King Aerys laughing as black spots appeared within his vision. His lungs burned and his feet twitched as he tried to move. The sword had been placed just out of reach but if Brandon moved just a little, mayhaps he could… The cord tightened around his body even more, the Tyroshi strangle device living up to its’ name.

His vision dimmed as he tried to catch his breath, tried to move towards the sword. His arms shook and his body trembled before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, out of air. The last thing he heard was the king’s maniacal laughter and his father screaming as he was burned to death.




 

 

He woke up to an arm holding him down as someone tried to remove the cord around his neck. Brandon let out a strangled breath and tried to bolt upright only to collide with the… man who was trying to help him. He could feel the stone floor underneath half his body but his chest and his head were lying on the man’s lap.

“Be still! I’m trying to help!”

The hand on his chest pushed him down, firm and strong, warm. Brandon hesitantly lay back down, still struggling to breathe and not succeeding. The Tyroshi strangle device pushed in on him tighter still and his heart still beat faster, like it was trying to push its way out of his chest.

“Fuck, this thing is tight.”

One of the man’s hands reached out to slip underneath the Tyroshi strangle device, along with a wooden stick and Brandon sucked in as much air as he could. The man muttered something under his breath and then he was free, carefully held within the man’s arms as he sucked in more air desperately. Energy rose around him, curling around him and then disappeared.

Tears pooled in his eyes and he so wanted to swipe them away. He didn’t want anyone in the throne room to see him vulnerable, much less the man who was helping him.

As he recovered, his body still trembling and twitching from the lack of air, he studied the man who had just saved his life. The man who was half holding him in her arms, his upper body in his lap. The young man looked to be the same as he did, though mayhaps he was a year or two older than him. He wore his moderately long, black hair back but it seemed to be trying to escape the tie that he had collected it with. His bright, almost glowing green eyes were studying him as much as he was studying him. The strange scar on his forehead tempted him much as he raised a shaky hand to touch it, tracing it gently.

It looked like one of those lightning bolts that touched Westerosi ground during a summer storm, forking across his skin. The scar itself was bright red and looked like it hurt. He wondered what kind of weapon could cause that injury. Though he wasn’t familiar to him, no sense of recognition flitting through his mind.

The man’s eyes seemed to stare into his very soul as he held Brandon, raising an eyebrow. “Are you alright?”

Brandon sucked in another deep breath of air and inhaled… His stomach roiled at the smell of burnt flesh and he tried to breathe again only for the man holding him to shake his head.

“Breathe through your mouth, not through your nose. It’s better that way.”

The color drained from his face as he realized what he was smelling, memory coming back and making his heart race. They were right in the midst of the throne room. Right in the center of court. Brandon let out a low strangled breath and his past meal rebelled, this time successful as it came back up. The man holding him helped him up, holding him at the waist as he sicked up. His hair stayed out of his face as he did, mayhaps being held back by the man too.

Fingers stroked circles on his back as he watched as his midday meal come back up. The man that was assisting him was speaking quietly but all Brandon could make out was the reassuring tone.

“What is the meaning of this? Guards! Who are you?”

He flinched at the king’s words as his body stopped rebelling. The fingers on his back did not stop their motions, only moved up to his neck and scratched lightly at his skin, making goose pimples ride up his arms. Brandon shivered at the touch and leaned into it, his knees trembling with exhaustion.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? You were the one who burned his father to death! You call yourself a king.”

Steel was drawn and Brandon was finally able to keep his eyes open, peeling them open to look at the iron throne. King Aerys had stood up and was glaring at them. His kingsguard had all drawn their swords as Brandon’s friends had drawn theirs. Ser Elbert Arryn, Kyle Royce, Ethan Glover, and Jeffory Mallister had all come to King’s Landing with him to confront Prince Rhaegar and they were apparently ready to fight for him too. Their faces were pale and their eyes were wide.

Everyone had just witnessed Lord Rickard Stark burned to death right before their very eyes. Hells, Brandon would have died if it hadn’t been for the strange man intervening. And no one had said a word in their defense. No one had thought that the king using fire as his champion was wrong. Or if they had, they hadn’t opened their mouths.

“You’re a traitor! Guards, arrest them! Arrest all the northerners! I will have them dead!”

The arms holding him tightened and then relaxed, with one arm pulling away. Brandon looked right into the man’s eyes and whatever the man saw made his lips curl into a frown. “Can you stand?”

“Aye.”

The man’s eyes narrowed before straightening and turning towards the king. He left one arm around Brandon’s waist though and Brandon would have complained but his knees… His whole body was trembling and his energy had fallen with his father’s death.

“You are not fit to be a king.”

The kingsguard advanced on them, joined by the goldcloaks in the hall, and Brandon’s friends closed ranks, keeping Brandon in the middle.

“Fuck.” The man next to him stared at him and then glanced over to one of his men. “Glover, you’re his squire, aren’t you? Come over here and hold Brandon up.”

Ethan Glover startled and turned around, his pale eyes wide with suspicion as he stared at the man aiding them.

“I will deal with the king. Lord Stark needs help.”

“Aye. Brandon?”

Ethan took two steps towards him and reached out an arm, curling it around Brandon’s shoulders. The green eyed man next to him raised an eyebrow at him before stepping out of their circle, letting Brandon have a good look at him. He spotted the Tyroshi strangle device peeking out from one of the man’s cloak pockets and he flinched, unconsciously taking a step back.

“What’s your name?” Brandon questioned, his voice hoarse from yelling out.

“Harry Potter.”




 

 

Harry stepped out of the circle of men and faced the king and his kingsguard, seeing Sers Jaime Lannister, Gerold Hightower, Lewyn Martell, Jonothor Darry, and Barristan Selmy all had their blades out and pointed at him. Harry shrugged them off, feeling the elder wand hum and slip itself into his fingers.

King Aerys stood before the throne, wild and crazy. He looked paranoid and not like a king. His beard and hair were long and matted and filled with dirt. His fingernails were so long and sharp that they looked like blades themselves. The king had already burned one man to death and had been bent on killing Brandon Stark too.

Harry hadn’t been in Westeros for very long, not even for 24 hours, and to see this… He had been unable to stand aside as Brandon was almost strangled to death, had come too late to save the father. His saving people thing again, he supposed. It didn’t help that Brandon was very attractive, in a beautiful, feral way. Brandon Stark looked almost wolf like and if Harry didn’t know better, he’d have said the man was a werewolf. But he couldn’t sense anything about him, just a little, tiny hint of ancient, cold power.

King Aerys stayed right before the throne and Harry took another step, raising an eyebrow at the man. He risked another minute to skim the man’s surface thoughts and almost instantly fled back into his mind. The king’s thoughts were wild and unorganized, crazy with the need to see someone consumed by fire again. King Aerys Targaryen, the second of his name, was aroused by this, by seeing someone burning to death. Harry could see the outlines of a bulge in just the right spot and that made up his mind, wishing he could unsee it.

Harry flinched bodily and gripped the elder wand, taking it out of his pocket and whispered two words.

The king slumped over dead in seconds, his sightless eyes open and then Harry turned around and slipped through the ring of men, catching Brandon just as his knees gave out from under him.

Chaos reigned around them as people realized the king was dead. The kingsguard all turned as one and pointed their swords at Harry, who raised an eyebrow and just stared at them.

“The king is dead! Send for the prince! He must be told!”

“Kingslayer! You!”

“You killed the king!”

“Yeah? Says who?” Harry questioned wearily, his eyes still on Brandon as the man leaned into him further. Harry sighed and wrapped an arm about Brandon, letting his fingers trace patterns about his back, running up to his neck and squeezing slightly. Brandon melted into him, heaving a great sigh of relief, as his shaky breathing evened out into sleep. “He could have had a heart attack. I didn’t do anything.”

The knights of the kingsguard all stared at him wearily.

“Send for Prince Rhaegar then,” Harry offered quietly. “He will hopefully be a better king than Aerys was.”

“You are under arrest for the death of the king.”

“Yeah? Try me,” Harry retorted, turning his head to glare at the speaker. “If I really did kill the king, I can kill you with two words.”




 

 

Five months later found Harry Potter and Brandon Stark fighting back to back in the Stepstones. Pirates were spread out around them, wielding all manner of weapons and all keeping their distance from Brandon, who wielded a silver bladed sword that no one had ever seen before. It was similar in quality to valyrian steel but it did not have the rippled sight to it.

The Wild Wolf and the Sorcerer.

Some pirates had even seen a big, black wolf fighting alongside the man who wielded magic. Though for the men who did, the wolf’s mouth was the last thing they saw.

The sun was shining over them and Harry had dirt and blood in his hair as he cast spell after spell, blasting the pirates back several hundred feet. Some were flung into the air and dropped off rooftops while others were left bleeding and cut up.

“You just had to rile them up!” Harry yelled before whispering a spell under his breath.

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“Oh, right. You just had to taunt them and say you were a better swordsman and horse rider than they all were.”

“Well, I am!”

Harry snorted, his heart racing and sweat dripping down his back as he heard Brandon finish off the last of the pirates. “They never learn, do they?”

Brandon huffed out a loud laugh and as the last one fell to the ground, turned around and pulled Harry into a hot kiss. Harry laughed and pushed Brandon away, making sure that Gryffindor’s sword was not facing anywhere near any body parts. Brandon struck the sword into the dirt underneath them and looked around at the alleyway they were in. They were in between two stores and no one else was around, having heard the sounds of fighting and fled or joined in.

“How about here?” Brandon questioned, his eyes wide and Harry’s eyes narrowed at the bulge in Brandon’s leggings.

“Here? Where anyone could see us? Oh, however will I cope? You’re a wolf at heart, you know that?”

Brandon snorted and threw off his cloak, reached up to pull off his tunic. Harry rolled his eyes, his own cock hardening at the sight before him. Brandon Stark, the Wild Wolf, was wild and hot and his. He licked his lips and stripped off his own shirt, dropping his cloak to the ground and closing the distance between them to push Brandon up against the wall of the merchant’s store behind them.

 


 

 

Brandon laughed, his voice going shaky with arousal as Harry pushed him up against the stone wall. He faced the wall with Harry all spread out against him, his hands moving up what bare skin he could touch.

“I’d never thought a Stark could run so hot,” Harry muttered heatedly, as his nails traced over Brandon’s bare arms, bringing up goose pimples. “With all the Winter is Coming intensity.”

Brandon opened his mouth to reply when one of Harry’s hands moved down, tracing down his arse to rub up against his opening. He let out a strangled shout as Harry’s other arm wrapped around him, his already wet fingers palming his cock. Heat built at the base of his spine and he yelled out as Harry stroked him once, twice, before withdrawing.

He whined and tried to arch back into those wonderful fingers only for one of Harry’s hands to press on his back, pinning him down. “Stay.”

Brandon’s heart raced even faster at the word, something within him melting into it. The wolf shape that Harry had taught him would fall back onto his back and show his belly to the man behind him and Brandon surrendered to it, as Harry’s hands moved over him again. Pleasure sparked throughout him, little hints of Harry using his magic to tease him.

Fingers stroked his cock again and he whined into it, moving against the wall in front of him to get more of that friction. When one finger breached him and curled, hitting that spot that made him shiver, he moaned and bucked. His cock was so very hard now and he was aching with it as he opened his mouth.

Harry .”

“You close?”

Please.

“Almost, Brandon. You want me inside you when you come?”

Yes. Please… Fuck.

Two more fingers entered him, stretching him enough and he groaned into the sensation. Harry moved a hand back to his shoulders, holding him there as he trembled with pleasure, warmth spreading throughout him as his heart raced. Sweat dripped down into his eyes.

The fingers withdrew and he almost groaned, his muscles constricting around nothing and then Harry slid in, hitting home one the first try. Brandon let out a yell as pleasure rode through him, sinking deeper onto his lover’s cock as he moved around it.

“Brandon Stark, my wolf. You’re beautiful.”

He whined again, hearing his hoarse voice and wondering why he sounded like that.

“You feel so good,” Harry murmured breathlessly, his fingers stroking his back and moving up to his shoulder blades. “You ready?”

Brandon couldn’t even think, couldn’t even talk as Harry withdrew a little bit and then thrust back in hard. He felt lips against his skin, on the crook between his neck and shoulders and the feel of teeth sent him over the line. His release rode through him, his toes curling in his boots and his fingers scrabbling to reach back to Harry’s. As Brandon came, so did Harry, as his muscles constricted around him.

He slumped back into Harry’s arms, shaking with pleasure. He felt Harry press a kiss to his back, to his neck and he turned around, taking the last kiss from Harry on his lips. Harry grinned into it and held him, both of them naked but for their boots.

“No taunting the Dothraki if we see them,” Harry muttered, flicking him on his shoulder. “We really would be in trouble if that happened.”

“But-”

“No buts. Not even King Rhaegar would help us then.”

“But he’s wed to my sister.”

“Brandon… No taunting the Dothraki, no matter how hot it makes you.”

“What if we conquered the Stepstones?” Brandon tried, nuzzling into Harry’s arms. “In King Rhaegar’s name, of course.”

Harry pulled back a little, his green eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, sure, good luck with that.”

Brandon snorted and pressed a kiss to Harry’s scar. “I am glad my brother is Lord of Winterfell now, instead of me.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a grin. “You just love me because I taught you how to shape shift.”

“Those lessons were very entertaining.”

“Brandon! All of those lessons turned into sex,” Harry retorted, rolling his eyes and glancing around for their clothes. “We should get back to our room.”

“It was good sex though.”

Harry let out an exasperated noise and threw his tunic at him. Brandon laughed, kicked his boots off, and shifted shape between one step and the next, grabbing Harry’s tunic in his mouth and loped off.

Harry’s yells followed him as he ran and he grinned, showing long, sharp teeth.

Chapter Text

“What color is it?”

“Color? Color? Harry, it’s a dragon! A dragon! I don’t give a shit what color it is!” Danny yelled over the phone. “It’s gonna kill me.”

“Danny!”

“What color is it, he says,” Danny muttered, still pointing his gun at the creature that had landed in front of him. “It’s freaking black and it’s got golden eyes! How the fuck does that help?”

The dragon stood a few feet in front of his car, digging its claws into the dirt underneath it. Its eyes were peered down at him and Danny could swear it was looking at him funny and not like it was about to eat him. There was no smoke coming out of its nostrils but then again… What did he really know about dragons? He had thought Harry was joking about dragons being real just last night. Why the fuck was this his life? Putting up with McGarrett was enough stress for him, thank you.

Though to be fair, putting up with Steve was a different kind of stress when the man just kept on finding ways to lose his shirt.

“It looks like it thinks I’m a pretty princess and wants to take me away to its lair!” Danny yelled over the phone again. “Harry!”

“It’s Norberta! Hold on. Don’t know why she’s here,” Harry muttered, hanging up the phone a second later.

Danny rolled his eyes and swore as the dragon turned, its tail swinging towards his camaro. “Harry, I swear…”

“What?”

Danny swore again and loudly when he glanced over at the passenger seat. Harry had just popped in, with no forewarning, no nothing and was looking at him just like the dragon was looking at him.

“Fuck, Harry. Just go deal with the dragon! I don’t want any suspicious burns or dragon slobber on my car, okay? Is that just too much to ask? Huh?”

Harry snorted and opened the passenger door, slipping out of the car quietly enough. His black hair was all over the place and his green eyes were lit in amusement as he spared a glance at Danny again.

“Just go, okay?” Danny gestured towards the dragon, Norberta, waving at it. “And not a word about this to your friends.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry remarked, winking at him and then closing the door. “Norberta! Hey, girl!”

Danny sighed and holstered his gun, watching as Harry took a few steps away from his car and stopped. Norberta let out a roar, loud and rather happy sounding, as she saw Harry. Danny watched as Harry waited, letting Norberta come to him, and then held out a hand, palm up.

The man and dragon stood there quietly for a few minutes, Norberta nuzzling into Harry’s hand, letting out quiet snuffs of air occasionally.

“You can come out now, if you want to,” Harry said, raising his voice a little. “She’s not going to hurt you.”

Danny stared at him, looked around at their surroundings on the North Shore of Hawaii, and then shrugged. There weren’t many people, if any, around them and he did trust Harry. Ever since Danny had been the one assigned to guide the other man around Jersey for a conference five years ago, Harry had been easy to get to know and to trust.

He stepped out of his car and leaned against the door as he studied Norberta the dragon. “She like a great big cat or something?”

Harry laughed and stroked Norberta’s snout. The dragon let out a low rumble of pleasure deep in her throat and Danny grinned a little, still keeping his distance. “Yep. Explains why she didn’t like you.”

Danny glared at him and Harry shrugged. “She didn’t not like you. I was joking.”

“Of course. Why is she here? Does she have a crime to report or…”

Harry’s eyes widened a little and then he snorted, shaking his head. “Nah. She’s just here to mate with some of the Hawaiian dragons. She says they’re… Eww, Norberta! No, I’m not translating that!”

Danny let out a surprised laugh, dropping his hands to his waist. “So… Hawaiian dragons?”

“There’s a dragon reserve on one of the smaller islands, one of the less populated islands. Charlie’s working there now apparently. And for the record, Danno, it’s Disney dragons who want to take you away to their lairs. Real dragons don’t give a shit about humans unless we intrude on them.”

“Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know?”

Harry shrugged. “You do kinda look…”

“Finish that sentence, Harry. I dare you.”

Harry grinned at him and then pulled away from Norberta, shooing her off. Danny listened as Harry muttered something to Norberta in parseltongue, heat sparking in his body at the rough language. Whenever Harry spoke in that language during sex, it never failed to go straight to his cock instantly and now it was no different. And damn him, Harry knew what he was doing to him too.

Danny caught Harry smirking at him and flipped him off.

Harry’s eyes widened a little as he licked his lips.

“Ah, come on. I’m working here!”

“Now? I’m pretty sure you’re not on a case right now,” Harry replied idly as they both watched each other. “This instant anyway.”

“You came all the way from the big island to do this? For a booty call?”

“And to save you from the scary dragon. Don’t forget that.”

Danny groaned. Harry grinned at him and whispered something else in that language of his. His cock perked up and hardened at the look the other man was giving him, making him breathless with it. Sweat dripped down his neck and forehead as he shuddered with want and he inwardly cursed the Hawaiian sun for being this warm.

Harry. Fuck.”

Harry quickly closed the distance and muttered something under his breath. Danny hoped it was something to hide their actions and then let out a strangled moan as Harry slipped a hand underneath Danny’s shirt, rubbing circles on his skin. Danny reached out for Harry, drawing him in for a heated kiss and Harry met him halfway, licking his way into his mouth.

When Harry’s hand moved downward, slipping under his jeans, Danny’s heart raced and he bucked up, his cock hardening even more at the hint. Harry grinned and leaned his forehead against his as he moved his hand, stroking over his cock, squeezing slightly and rubbing lightly. Danny groaned and melted, his release hitting him as his toes curled in his shoes.

Harry slipped an arm around him and held on, moving around him to lean against the car too. Danny slid back against Harry, leaning against the man’s shoulder, as they watched Norberta watch them.

“Did she just watch us.” Danny stared up at the dragon, who was looking at them with an amused look in her eyes.

“I am unimpressed by you,” Danny exclaimed, flipping her off and glaring at her.

Norberta rumbled deep in her throat, her tail idly moving behind her. Harry laughed out loud and continued laughing when he glanced at Danny, who threw up his hands in exasperation.

“Dragons have their own magic so they’re usually immune to our shielding magics.”

“Are you sure she wanted to mate with another dragon?” Danny questioned, feeling his heart slow down and his breathing even out. “Cause she looks like she wants you.”

Harry let out an offended noise and elbowed him. “Why would you say that? I cannot unhear that now.”

Danny laughed.

“I bet Steve would like to see her. Super Seal that he is, he’d want to approach her…”

“Wait. Seal? As in the muggle Navy Seals?”

“Yeah?”

“Steve… as in Steve McGarrett?”

Danny turned to look at Harry, raised an eyebrow at him. “The one and the same. He gives me a headache on a daily basis.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he let out a snort of surprised laughter. “Should have known from your stories after work. That man’s good in bed.”

Danny’s eyes widened and he started to laugh. Judging by Harry’s expression, his laughter was taking on a hysterical edge and he didn’t give a shit.

“Of course you two know each other. Of fucking course. The two danger magnets in my life know each other. How did you meet?”

“On a classified operation.”

“Sure. Of course. That’s the only answer.”

 

Chapter Text

“Steve… as in Steve McGarrett?”

Danny turned to look at Harry, raised an eyebrow at him. “The one and the same. He gives me a headache on a daily basis.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he let out a snort of surprised laughter. “Should have known from your stories after work. That man’s good in bed.”

Danny’s eyes widened and he started to laugh. Judging by Harry’s expression, his laughter was taking on a hysterical edge and he didn’t give a shit.

“Of course you two know each other. Of fucking course. The two danger magnets in my life know each other. How did you meet?”

“On a classified operation.”

“Sure. Of course. That’s the only answer.”



“McGarrett, you’re with Potter.”

Steve turned to look at the man across from him, the wizard, as the lead man in charge continued to list off partnerships. It was one non-magical soldier with a magical soldier, a Navy SEAL partnered with an auror, and Steve hadn’t known what to make of the existence of wizards or witches at first. The demonstration had settled him, making his heart beat fast in awe and more than a little bit of healthy respect.

The light of the moon shone through the windows in the warehouse they were in, curling around the witchlights in the air above the men and women.

Potter returned Steve’s look, his green eyes narrowed in thought, as he crossed his arms. Potter was supposed to be one of the more dangerous aurors around, the man thought to be taking the Head Auror position in England within the next few months. His dark hair was wild, falling all over the man’s head, unlike the rules about what you could do with your hair in the American army and navy. The scar on his forehead was faded but Steve could still see it, see the structure of it as it jutted downward across the man’s skin.

Potter was wearing some kind of armor and Steve narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at it, as their CO’s voice quieted. The man was also wearing boots and black pants, similar to everyone else, and a holster on his left thigh. His wand fit snugly into the leather of the holster and overall, Steve was quite satisfied by the look. He had seen some wizards who didn’t look as prepared as Potter did. Each Navy SEAL walked over to their appointed Auror and Steve did the same, stopping a foot away from Potter, who raised an eyebrow.

“It’s dragonhide armor,” Potter remarked idly. “Friend of mine had it made for me.”

“They say you’re the most dangerous out of them.”

“I heard the same about you from your CO,” Potter said, his lips twitching up into a grin as he gave Steve a slow once over look. Steve’s heart skipped a beat at the heat in Potter’s eyes but he focused on why they were here in the first place. “You lot and your guns… It’s a pity that you Americans have the DADT. Well… Care to join the others at the perimeter?”

Steve watched as Potter’s eyes flashed, as he held out a hand. He refused to flush at Potter’s words and his looks in front of both teams and the CO. It had been a while since he had slept with someone, especially a guy, but they were on mission right now. The other members of his team took the hands of the aurors and the cracks of multiple apparitions filled the air.

“Yeah. Just make sure you have the coordinates right.”

Potter rolled his eyes in bemusement, rocked back on the heels of his feet. “I’m good at what I do, McGarrett. Either you trust me with this or you don’t.”

Steve stared at him before dropping his hand in Potter’s, feeling the warm calluses on his palm. Steve wondered if the stories about Potter were true, if he really had experienced what he had said.

“I don’t bite,” Potter offered wryly. “Close your eyes. It’s better that way.”

As soon as he closed his eyes, Potter muttered something under his breath and Steve felt a tug at his waist before he was yanked away. It felt like he was being squeezed through a tube for hours and then he landed on his feet and into chaos.

“Down!”

“Shots fired! Man down!”

He immediately drew his weapon, a HK416 with sound suppressing rounds, and crouched in the corner of the field they had landed in. Harry stood in front of him, maybe an inch or two ahead of him, and muttered under his breath as spell light shot across the field in front of them. Bullets sprayed around them, following the spells and thunked into people. Steve pulled down his night vision goggles and turned them on, looking for targets and finding several.

A bullet smacked into his kevlar vest, leaving him gasping for breath but otherwise unharmed. “Fuck.”

“You’re telling me. Someone betrayed us,” Potter whispered breathlessly. “Come on. Let’s go. Still got a job to do.”

A blue shield popped up in front of them, shining bright in the night sky. Steve couldn’t see Potter wielding his wand, couldn’t see that Potter had anything in his hands as they ran through the field of tall grass in the outskirts of a wizarding village. They were in Afghanistan, nowhere near any civilization and alone. Through his goggles, Steve followed Potter, keeping a foot behind him and just as they reached the other side of the field, movement ran across his line of vision. He holstered his rifle, drew his sidearm, a SIG Sauer P226, aimed it, and pulled the trigger.

A yell echoed throughout the field and Steve kept moving, his CO’s voice echoing in his mind. Shoot to kill. Don’t want these bastards getting their hands on the weaponry that the wizards are keeping in their bunker.

A flash of red light shot through his vision and another body fell to the ground in front of them. The stars twinkled above them and there was no other light except the light of dangerous spells. Steve could even see a hint of green passing through the air a mile away, wondering what kind of spell made that kind of sickly green light. Potter’s eyes were similar enough to that shade that Steve was more curious than worried.

“Won’t last long but it’ll give us time to get to cover,” Potter muttered, giving a thumbs up to Steve and moved on. “ Fuck .”

They moved silently through the open acre that led up to the village, hiding under an overhang of a roof. The cottage next to them was empty, that much Steve could tell through his goggles and he tapped Harry on the shoulder, hearing the shouted spells and spray of bullets behind them die down. He hoped his team was alright, hoped that they weren’t all dead. His heart was beating rapidly, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tightened his grip on his rifle.

“What?” Potter questioned, keeping his voice low as he turned to glance at Steve.

“The cottage is empty if you want a break.”

Potter made a noise of frustration and turned back around, keeping still for a few minutes. “We need to regroup. Anything from your team?”

“No. Anything from yours?”

“Judging by the lack of patronuses, no. Let’s take a break in there. The warehouse our targets are in is just five miles north of us,” Potter finally said, taking the lead again and walking around the corner of the cottage.

Steve followed, side stepping a mutilated body, keeping a tight grip on his weapon. There was another body by the door of the cottage, one that was frozen but not in… Steve drew Potter’s attention and the man peered down at the body, reaching down to touch the woman’s bare arm.

“Petrified. This isn’t good,” Potter muttered, before stepping in front of the door. “And… fuck. I have a bad feeling about this. Those look like bite marks.”

Steve pulled Potter to a stop, gestured at himself and then at the door. Potter stared at him and then stepped to the side, letting him have the room to breach. Steve reached down into one of the pockets of his tac vest and pulled out a grenade, before kicking the door open and pointing his rifle at the interior of the cottage. He heard a soft glide of something before Potter yelled out warning, felt a hand grab his kevlar vest and yank backward.

Steve fell backward into Potter’s arms, following the pull and then threw his grenade into the cottage.

“Don’t take those goggles off, McGarrett,” Potter exclaimed, his voice calm enough considering their situation. “You just happened to have grenades on your person?”

“You never know when one might come in handy.”

Potter snorted, his arms still around Steve and he shivered at the touch. “At least it distracted the animal. No muggle weapons can kill that thing. Though… maybe a tank could, I suppose. Stay here and let me deal with it.”

“What is it?

“Basilisk. I hope no one else has encountered anything like this,” Potter whispered, before dropping his arms, trailing off of Steve’s skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake. “You really have a lot of muscles, you know. What do they give you in that army of yours?”

“Navy. I’m in the Navy, Potter, not the army.”

Potter let out a quiet laugh and stepped through the open doorway. “So you say.”

“So I say? The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Steve questioned, his eyes narrowing at the man in front of him.

Hissing filled the air and Steve closed his mouth on realizing that it was not coming from the beast inside. Potter flicked his hand up, motioning around in a circle and a witchlight rose from his fingers, floating up until it lit up the entirety of the small cottage before them. Steve’s eyes widened at the sight that met him, at the giant snake that was curled up at the back of the cottage. He raised his rifle and aimed at the beast’s head, evening his breathing until his fingers were steady.

The snake did not even radiate any heat in his goggles. That was why he hadn’t seen in it before when they were outside. It was just a pale, grey cold and long, long enough to circle the cottage. It was hissing back at Potter and Steve froze at the sound of the hissing words coming from the man in front of him. It had just been a rumor amongst the men and his team that Potter could talk to snakes, the one wizard who could.

They hadn’t been given much information on the wizarding world aside from what wizards and witches could do but talking to snakes had not been mentioned. A week ago, someone had asked Potter about his years fighting Voldemort and someone else had asked about Voldemort’s snake. Potter had neither confirmed nor denied that he had more abilities than had been made public, something about the wizarding world thinking ill of some of them.

His heart continued to race, jumping as Potter finally fell quiet and the giant snake in front of them stared at them, its eyelids closed over. Potter let out a deep sigh and stepped back to Steve’s side, reaching up to drop his hand over Steve’s, over the hand he had on his rifle.

“It’s okay. No need for that,” Potter offered, pushing down slightly enough that Steve got the message and lowered it. “The rogues had it under control. It’s going to guard the cottage for us now while we regroup here.”

Steve blinked at Potter’s words and nodded, reaching up to slip off his goggles. “It won’t kill us?”

“No. Your grenade actually kind of… knocked it on its head enough that the spell was lifted.”

“What the fuck happened back there?” Steve questioned, watching as Potter started to pace through the cottage. It was a small building, with only three visible rooms. Potter stuck his head through one of the doors, wrinkled his nose, and closed the door behind him.

“Someone betrayed us,” Potter remarked idly, stopping at the far end of the cottage and muttering another spell under his breath. The blue light of a patronus flowed from his fingertips and transformed into a big glowing stag, its antlers skimming the ceiling. “Your guess is as good as mine right now.”

Steve sucked in a tight breath at the sight of the patronus, easily feeling the sense of warmth, security and safety that it radiated. The stag let out a ghostly whinny and loped around the cottage, pausing to peer at Steve and then ran back to Potter.

“I’m in the cottage five miles from our target, Johnson. See that you and your Navy Seal arrive here safely please.”

The ghostly stag loped out of the cottage, slipping through the walls and disappeared. Potter sighed and muttered another spell under his breath, perhaps a warding spell by the sounds of it.

“So… we have time,” Potter offered quietly, glancing out one of the windows in the cottage and then back at Steve. “We could… play wizarding poker or chess… or something infinitely more exciting.”

Steve rolled his eyes and walked over to another window, propping his rifle up to the glass. “We’re on mission.”

“Yeah. We’re taking a break though. You ever heard of a break? Do Navy SEAL’s take breaks? Ever?”

“I don’t.”

Potter raised an eyebrow and took a step closer towards him by the sound of it. A minute later Potter was standing next to him, his hand reaching out to hover over Steve’s. “Is it the adrenaline?”

“Potter…”

“McGarrett. I saw you looking at me during the demonstration and as I was casting the patronus. Whatever happens in this cottage, stays in this cottage. And I already warded it. No one’s getting in without my knowing about it.”

“Alright! Pushy wizard.”

“Super SEAL. I ask again… what do they give you in SEAL boot camp? Cause you guys are all rather unfairly attractive,” Potter muttered, pulling Steve away from the window and into a kiss.

Steve gasped into it, quickly holstering his rifle and curled his arm around Potter’s shoulder. “Potter…”

Potter’s other hand slowly undid his tac vest, lowering it lightly to the floor. Steve helped him and reached out to do the same, pushing off Potter’s cloak and armor, which fell to the ground with a quiet thunk. Hands slipped under his shirt and Steve groaned as Potter’s fingers traced over his stomach and chest, before pushing his shirt off.

A slight push from Potter caused him to stumble into the wall, hitting cold stone. His heart beat like it was trying to pound its way out of his chest and his cock started to harden as Potter reached in again, licking and kissing his way from Steve’s shoulder to his throat, nipping a kiss on his mouth. Steve wrapped his arms around Potter, curling his fingers into the man’s back.

Potter grinned at him when they pulled away a minute later, both breathless. Steve could see the bulge in Potter’s pants  and he let out a strangled groan as the other man pressed his hands to Steve’s stomach, with one hand trailing down. Potter kept his eyes on Steve’s as his fingers slipped under Steve’s cargo pants, to trail down to his cock.

Sweat dripped down his back and forehead as pleasure sparked throughout him, building at the base of his spine.

Fuck. Potter.

“I think we’ve graduated to calling each other by our first names, don’t you think?” Potter… Harry questioned, winking at him and cupping his cock, squeezing a little and twisting. “Since I’ve got my hand down your pants and all.”

Steve let out a choked gasp, his legs trembling as Harry’s fingers stroked him, rubbing the tip of his cock and then coming back up. He bucked up into Harry’s fingers as he squeezed again but Harry’s hand on his chest stopped him moving more, pinning him to the wall behind him. He fell into Harry’s arms, leaning on his shoulder, as Harry jerked him off, doing something delightful with his fingers and then he came, his release as Harry whispered a sentence in that language of his, the rough hiss of it going straight to his cock.

“You look even more beautiful like this,” Harry muttered as Steve went loose and relaxed in his arms.

Steve’s heart continued to race even as his toes uncurled and his breathing began to even out. One of Harry’s hands made its way to his neck, curling around him. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have more time. A nice long fuck would be nice.”

Steve sighed out a deep breath and reached out his hand down to Potter’s cock, wanting to reciprocate. He palmed the bulge in Harry’s pants and enjoyed seeing Harry suck in a tight breath at the touch. “Maybe we could keep in contact?”

“So I can see if I can take you apart?” Harry questioned hoarsely, his voice still warm and there was a hint of steel underneath. “Fuck, Steve. You with the blushing...”

“You with the making me blush.”

Steve rubbed at Harry’s cock through his pants, slipped his hand under his pants and stroked again. Harry let out a low moan and came quickly, quietly. He withdrew his hand and wiped it off on Harry’s cloak on the ground, watching Harry’s nose wrinkle. A quick muttered charm vanished the evidence of both of their releases and Steve nodded idly, appreciating the ease with which their mess was cleaned up.

Steve raised an eyebrow and Harry smirked. “Watching you come was fun.”

“We should get back to work,” Steve remarked, gesturing to the windows and to the eventual target ahead of them.

“Work. Right. Rogue dark wizards don’t wait courteously for their hunters to have sex,” Harry said, shrugging and slipping on his armor and cloak again. “Come on. I’ll take watch for now. Get some sleep.”

“We’ll both take watch.”

“I took a pepper up potion before the team meeting. I’m fine. Get some sleep, McGarrett. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Chapter Text

Steve walked into Danny’s apartment, opening his mouth to call his partner and stopping dead in the living room. Danny was in his living room alright and so was the man he had worked with a few years before, Harry Potter. Danny and Harry were standing by the table, with Harry backing Danny up to the island counter, pressing his mouth to Danny’s lips. Harry was facing Steve, with Danny’s back to him, and Steve knew the minute he had walked into the hall, Harry had seen him.

“Should have seen the superSEAL today,” Danny muttered breathlessly, his arms curling around Harry. “I just want to-- fuck. Harry.

Steve watched as Harry caught his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Danny in return, pressing kisses to Danny’s bare neck. Harry’s eyes were wide with arousal but they were intent on Steve. The late afternoon sun pooled around the two of them, shining through the floor to ceiling windows on the opposite wall.

Steve stared at the two of them, his heart jump starting within his chest and racing. He hadn’t cleaned up after their case had ended an hour ago, had just acted on autopilot. The pack of beer he had brought was still in his hands, his suddenly clammy fingers. The cardboard pack slipped through his fingers and he flinched, expecting the loud breaking of glass, sucking in a tight breath.

He glanced down after a minute to see the six pack of beer hovering mid air, watched as it floated over to the table.

“Danny,” Harry spoke, his voice hoarse but steady. His eyes moved down to catch Danny’s and Steve wondered what it was like to have Danny’s full attention on him, his fingers curling and flexing.

“Hmm? I thought you were gonna distract me from the case, babe,” Danny muttered. “This isn’t distracting.”

Harry snorted, leaning into press another kiss to Danny’s forehead before pulling away. “You have something to say to Steve. Now’s the time. It seems you forgot about post case beer.”

Steve watched as Danny froze, his back stiffening and the back of his neck turning bright red.

“I can leave,” Steve offered faintly, watching as Danny finally turned to look.

Danny stared at him, blinking his blue eyes. Steve held Danny’s stare, his heart beating as fast as a rabbit’s and turned to leave, his shoulders curling inward.

“I still have a few things to say, Steven.”

Steve turned back around, his eyes widening at the intensity and heat in Danny’s eyes.

Danny threw up his hands and stepped around Harry, leaning against the kitchen counter to glare at him. “Why must you always carry an explosive device on your person, Steven? Why? And number 2, must you always be so reckless? Fuck, Steve. With the driving too! And the shirtlessness! Where does it end, huh? Are we gonna be old and grey and you’re still gonna be finding ways to lo- Oomph!”

Steve wrapped his arms around Danny, tugging him in and pressed his mouth to his. His heart sped up like he was on a mission again, like it was running a marathon as Danny groaned underneath him, curling his arms around Steve and digging his nails in, trying to get as close as possible. Steve’s breath hitched as one of Danny’s hands found its way under his shirt, stroking into heated skin.

His cock was already hard, having gained interest in the situation the minute that he had tugged Danny close. Steve whined as Danny slipped his tongue into his mouth, brushing up against his. Warmth filled him as he gasped out breaths as they finally pulled apart, leaning on each other. Danny’s eyes were wide and his cheeks were flushed and it made Steve want to kiss him again.

“Now that’s one way to shut you up,” Steve whispered, his voice hoarse with want.

“I’m right there with you, Danny,” Harry broke in, rolling his eyes when Steve turned his way. “You carry way too many explosive devices on your person. And if I might add, we never got that time five years ago.”

“What time five years ago?” Danny questioned, narrowing his eyes and glaring at Harry. “Is this one of those classified operations like Operation Strawberry Fields? Am I gonna ever learn about that one?”

Steve laughed and leaned into Harry, meeting him halfway with a kiss. Harry grinned into it, curling an arm around Steve’s neck to bring him closer, nipping his way into Steve’s mouth. He could taste Danny on Harry’s lips and shivered as one of Harry’s hands made its way underneath his shirt, warm fingers trailing downward. He groaned, his toes curling with pleasure and heat beginning to build at the base of his spine as Danny pressed a kiss to his neck.

“Operation Strawberry Field?” Harry echoed, his eyes wide and his voice hoarser than it had been. “Your commander called that op we did Operation Strawberry Fields?”

Danny rolled his eyes as Harry broke off from Steve. “Let me guess, he used a grenade at some point?”

Harry nodded vehemently, poking Steve’s shoulder and glaring at him. “He threw a grenade at a basilisk.”

Danny’s eyes widened and he turned to Steve again, even as Harry reached out with his other arm to draw him in for another kiss. Danny moaned into the heated kiss, his heart racing as he watched Steve inhale sharply. His cock had never lost its hardness between finding out that Steve was here, that Steve actually felt the same way.

Fuck, Harry,” Steve whispered, gritting his teeth and swaying against the kitchen counter between the two of them. “Danny.”

Danny crowded him in against the counter, seeing Steve’s eyes widen in arousal as Harry’s hand stroked his cock. Danny slipped his fingers under Steve’s shirt, stroking heated skin and moving up to thumb over a nipple, making Steve jolt under him. “Babe, you want to come for us?”

Steve gasped as if he had been punched, sucking in a tight breath and then deflating, his eyes widening in pleasure, his mouth opening slightly. Danny swallowed up Steve’s gasp with a kiss, licking his way into Steve’s mouth and reached out to Harry, slipping a hand underneath the waistband of his jeans. Harry’s eyes widened as he let out a strangled gasp, grasping onto Danny’s arm as he stroked his cock, twisting up and squeezing lightly. It didn’t take much other to send Harry over the edge, his mouth opening and his eyes glowing for a second as his release flooded him.

Harry leaned against Steve, the both of them leaning against the counter as they caught their breath.

“What made you think throwing a grenade at a basilisk would work, Steven?” Danny retorted finally, smiling at the sight of both of them. “Danger magnets, the both of you.”

Harry and Steve exchanged a look, their eyes narrowed, conspiring with a glance, before they both turned as one to Danny.

“I’ve got my work cut out for me,” Danny added, glaring at them as Harry reached out to curl an arm around Danny’s waist, reeling him in closer.

Steve grinned at him and slipped his hand under Danny’s shirt, heading down to slide underneath his work pants, tracing over his cock. “Danno.”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“C’mere,” Steve teased, his lips curling up into a wide smile.

Danny looked between Steve and Harry, both of them grinning at him, and threw his hands up in the air. His heart stopped as Harry too slipped his hand under his pants, joining Steve in stroking his cock. The added stimulation of both hands pushed him over the edge, shivering under the combined attention of his superSEAL and wizard.

Danny slumped against Steve, turning his head to look at Harry and raising an eyebrow.

Harry grinned wider, reaching out to stroke Danny’s back and entwine their hands. “I knew it.”

“You knew what?” Steve asked, looking at Harry and then at Danny to see if he knew what Harry was talking about. Danny shook his head, looking at Harry with a pointed glance.

“You two had feelings for each other,” Harry offered, his smile growing wider and his eyes softening. “I had to suffer every single time you came home from work, Danny. That and watching you work a case made me start to think there might be something more there.”

Danny blinked, his cheeks reddening a little. “I don’t talk about Steve that much.”

Steve laughed under his breath, curled an arm around him and one around Harry.

“And it would take someone special to get under your skin, Steve,” Harry added, catching Steve’s eyes. “I think Danny is that someone special.”

“You’re not leaving us…” Danny trailed off, his eyes widening a little.

Harry shook his head. “Nope. At least not this relationship.”

“Good. Then you can join 5-0,” Steve remarked, grinning at Harry’s startled laugh.

“Steve! You can’t just spring that on someone post orgasm,” Harry exclaimed and then broke out into laughter. “Sure, sure, I’ll just join 5-0. Suppose you need a wizard on your team anyways.”   



Chapter Text

“Did you guys really marry that civilian?” Diana questioned as she walked alongside them. “You know that won’t be safe for him.”

“Harry’s fine,” Oliver replied, leaning further into Clark’s side as they turned left down the hallway on the Watchtower. Clark shouldered his weight easily even though he had been injured himself. “He teaches self-defense on the weekends.”

“He’s just a teacher though,” Diana said, crossing her arms as they stopped by the transport system. “Hardly one to keep up with Superman and the Green Arrow.”

“We love him,” Clark spoke, tightening his grip on Oliver, his fingers brushing skin and making goosebumps crawl up his arm. Oliver sighed, his heart racing at the touch. “He loves us. What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem until there is, Kal-El,” Diana murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Luthor loves to meddle. What’ll happen when he gets it into his mind to kidnap your lover? He’s just a teacher. He’s not like us.”

“He knows who we are,” Oliver said, pushing away from his husband and typing in coordinates for home. “Batman already asked us these questions.”

“Diana, is there anything else?” Clark questioned, his last word turning into a yawn as he stretched. He had taken a hit of kryptonite in their fight today and it was taking a lot of energy to stay standing now. “The sun’s down and Harry already said he’d have dinner waiting.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not a supervillain?”

Oliver blinked, exchanged glances with Clark before they both started to laugh. The mere thought that Harry could be a villain was hard to believe but then again… He was powerful enough to be one, if he chose. There was a darkness to Harry that both of them had seen and it would be so easy to provoke him into a fight. It would just be a matter of poking the right subject to get Harry to fight. But neither of them wanted to. Harry was content being their anchor in the world, being a damn good teacher, and their husband.

“No, he’s not a supervillain,” Oliver replied, smiling at the thought. Clark stepped into the transport tube that would beam him home. Batman had done such a good job with the system and had unknowingly worked with Harry on it, working on the Watchtower headquarters. Harry had secretly provided the magical protections for the space station, warding it against supernatural intrusions. Oliver watched as Clark vanished and then he stepped into it himself, sparing a glance to Wonder Woman. “He’s our husband and that’s good enough for us.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed but she nodded, watching warily as he stepped into the transport tube for home. He landed a few seconds after Clark did, bumping into his husband as their home came into view.

It was a modest, two story home, with only one or two magical enhancements that not even Zatanna could sense. Harry was waiting for them on the back patio, leaning against the stone pillar in the corner of it, his green eyes narrowed in worry. He was in a pair of jeans and a green shirt, nothing particularly exciting and nothing formal. Krypto stood next to Harry, the white dog barking out when he saw them and running up to Clark excitedly, panting with his ears perked up.

Clark smiled wearily and stroked the dog’s ears, his hands trembling.

“Clark? Oliver? You two…” Harry trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he followed Krypto over and immediately wrapped his arms around Clark. “What happened?”

“It was another of Luthor’s kryptonite experiments,” Oliver said, taking a step over to lean into Harry’s other side. “It took us and Diana to take the robot down.”

Harry scowled and gestured to Krypto, who backed off to head back into the house via the dog door. “Come on. Are you injured, Oliver?”

“No, I’m just exhausted,” Oliver whispered, following Harry and Clark as they turned and walked through the open back door. He stumbled on the step into the house, would have fallen had it not been for Harry’s magic curling around him, sparking with warmth. The magic kept him upright, providing temporary strength. He sighed into the added support and followed his two husbands as Harry led them through the house and into their room. “Luthor’s robot bred like rabbits.”

“That gives me an image that I didn’t need,” Clark muttered, sighing as Harry lowered him to the king sized master bed. It was a bigger bed than regular king sized beds, as it fit all three of them with ample room on the sides. There were two bedside tables on each side of it, with a dog bed for Krypto next to it. “Lex has been up to something for the past two weeks now. I don’t like it.”

“He’s always up to something,” Oliver said, as he sat down on the bed next to Clark. The magic around him withdrew and Harry stepped up, helping both of them to undress and strip their uniforms. Oliver’s bow and quiver of arrows were sent to the basement under the house and both suits were peeled off, sweaty and bloody.

Harry caught Clark’s eyes as he looked his wound over, eyeing the green tinge to the skin.  “Are you sure you got out all the kryptonite?”

Clark shuddered as Harry ran his fingers over his thigh, his other hand entwined with Oliver’s. “I thought I had. Can you sense… something still?”

Harry stared at him, kneeling down to press a kiss to his knee and traced his hand over the wound, running up his inner thigh and watching as the bulge under Clark’s boxers grew in size. “No, there’s no more kryptonite in your body. This ought to go away within an hour, just like it did the last time you were exposed.”

“What about that?” Oliver questioned, gesturing to all of Clark and leaning against him.

“Oh, that. That depends,” Harry said, grinning at Clark’s wide eyes.

“Harry,” Clark tried, his voice hoarse. He yelped and bucked up into Harry’s fingers as he cupped him through his underwear, rubbing not so soothing circles.

“Something to ease the exhaustion,” Harry offered, grinning and winking at him as his fingers slipped underneath cloth and met skin. “Be glad that it’s the weekend.”

Oliver watched as Clark’s eyes widened even more in arousal, his cock hardening just at the sight. His heart raced as sweat dripped down his back and he reached out to draw Clark into a kiss, hearing him moan into the kiss. Oliver groaned as Clark slipped his tongue into his mouth and grinned into it as Clark nearly vibrated with his release, slumping into Oliver’s arms.

“Hey, boy scout,” Oliver whispered.

Clark glared at him and pressed sloppy, open mouthed kisses to his bare shoulder, making Oliver’s breath hitch. Harry moved in front of them, squeezing Oliver’s knee in reassurance and carded his fingers through his hair, standing up and waiting until they pulled apart. Oliver looked up into Harry’s green eyes and back down to Clark’s blue, seeing the love in both.

Harry reached out to grasp his chin and tip his face up, leaning down for a warm, wet kiss as Clark slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of Oliver’s clothes, finding his cock within a minute. Oliver let out a strangled groan at the sensations, Clark’s fingers on his cock and Harry’s lips on his neck, finding that one spot to send him reeling over. His release rocketed through him, toes curling and a moan leaving his throat.

“My boys,” Harry murmured, running his fingers through Oliver’s hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. Oliver whined, arching into the touch, and Harry smiled softly, gesturing to where the kitchen was. “Dinner’s ready when we want it.”

 




“You shouldn’t have married a teacher,” Bruce argued, crossing his arms and looking at Clark and Oliver squarely. “He’s a civilian and not likely to be able to defend himself.”

“Krypto’s with him,” Oliver offered, grinning at Bruce’s look. “If anyone can protect the man, it’s Superman’s dog.”

Barry let out a loud laugh and Diana elbowed him. Hal Jordan winked at Clark and Oliver, smirking at them.

“Way to go. He’s gotta be hot cause I don’t know how else you two would be married to a civilian,” Hal remarked, removing his mask and sitting down. “Can’t fault them for that.”

Clark rolled his eyes, watched as Oliver flipped Hal off. “He’s taken, thank you.”

“Whoa, I’m not about to step onto your territory,” Hal reassured, shrugging. “Must be something special though if you’re already married to a civilian. But for real, maybe Diana and Bruce have a point and I just realized I agreed with Batman. Fuck.”

“He’s fine,” Clark repeated. “Krypto’s with him and he has a panic button. Luthor on the other hand… Since last week, something’s been going on at his laboratory in Gotham. We need to investigate.”

“Agreed,” Diana spoke, watching them for a minute before turning back to the giant computer screen in front of them. “I’ll assemble a team and go this afternoon.”



 

 

“Potter, you should come into the teacher’s lounge. They’re saying the League’s struggling.”

Harry spun his chair around, raising an eyebrow at his colleague and nodding his thanks. He stood up and ambled out of his classroom, thankful it was already after school. The late afternoon sun shone through the windows in the hallway, warming him up. Most of the kids had already left and only the teachers were left, grading or getting the next day’s schedule ready. He stepped into the teacher’s lounge and looked up to the tv on the wall, his eyes widening.

“Superman is down! I don’t know where Green Lantern is or Wonder Woman! Back to Vicki at the station because I’m getting out of here!”

The newscaster on the tv ran but apparently the cameraman had stayed, filming what was becoming a fight to the death. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he saw the camera skim over Green Arrow, downed under a metal bench that had been wrapped around him, and Superman, who had many gashes in his chest and kryptonite worming its way through his skin. Barry Allen was running but slowly, arrows piercing his feet and blood pouring out.

The monster they were fighting was clearly alien, with red glowing eyes and a blue suit. What skin Harry could see was wrinkled and alien, not pale by any definition of the word. The alien’s suit had a symbol on it, one that looked like a horseshoe.

He couldn’t see Diana anywhere or Hal Jordan but seeing what he had seen was enough. The lights flickered around him as he stepped into the shadows, the cloak slipping onto his shoulders and the wand sliding into his fingers, the ring setting itself onto his left middle finger. He stepped out of the shadows on the roof of the building opposite the fight and walked off the roof, shadows pooling around him.



 

 

Diana yelled out as she swung her sword yet again at Darkseid, trying to nick his ankle and failing as her sword bounced off him. Darkseid glanced down at her as if she was insignificant and kicked out at her, kicking her clear across the street from him. Diana flew through the air without any direction, hurting all over her body but as soon as she caught herself, she stood back up, scrambling around for her sword. She only just realized it had gotten kicked out of her hand, had fallen a foot in front of Darkseid when she saw him crush it with a foot.

She yelled out again in frustration, her eyes catching sight of something falling in the sky right on top of Darkseid. Bruce ran over to her, limping on his right leg and blood pouring out of his suit, and a rifle in hand. His hand was not shaking though as they both watched whatever it was fall, a black burning… thing…

“It’s… What is it?” Diana muttered, looking around for Clark and Oliver and not seeing them. Her heart beat like a drum within her chest as she wondered if this was yet another thing they would have to fight, wondered if she had enough strength to fight still.

“It looks… like a man,” Bruce said, his voice shot through with exhaustion.

The black ball of shadows landed with a loud shatter on top of Darkseid, colliding with no sound as they both toppled to the ground. Dust, blood and dirt splattered the earth around them and Diana raised a weary eyebrow, taking a step closer to look. The shadows pooled around whatever it was that had landed on top of their enemy, a green, sickly light curling into the skin of the alien and then a small bright ball of light rose from Darkseid, hovering over the blue skinned alien.

The dark shadows stood up and now Diana could see it was a man, a man covered in shadows and black wings. A black cloaked and hooded man. She shuddered as she took in the man’s blazing green eyes and black hair as he reached out a hand towards the white ball of light. The small ball of light rose from Darkseid’s conscious body and floated upward, headed right for the man’s…

“Well, that’s something you don’t see everyday.”

Diana turned to look at Barry as the speedster walked up to them, his eyes dull with exhaustion.

“I think that was Darkseid’s soul,” Diana whispered hoarsely, grimacing as the cloaked man turned to them next after swallowing their opponent’s… Diana flinched but stayed where she was as the man walked towards them, bringing her arm guards together.

The cloaked man turned at the last possible moment and walked directly to where she had last seen Clark, bending down to the ditch and kneeling at Superman’s side. Diana’s eyes widened a little and she took a few steps towards the man, prepared to fight Death for Clark’s soul. Superman couldn’t be dead. Not Clark.

“You’re not getting him,” Bruce said, echoing Diana’s sentiments perfectly and raising his rifle to aim at Death.

The cloaked man turned to them, seemed to tilt his head in what could be called confusion in a human. Death then turned to glance down at Superman and then at where they could all see Green Arrow. Death’s eyes brightened and then he…

“Did we just get laughed at by Death?” Barry whispered incredulously.

Diana stared as Death knelt at Clark’s side and hefted him up, slipping what would be a shoulder under Clark’s and helping him up. Clark stared at Death with dazed eyes but didn’t put up a fuss, only seemed to lean into him more.

“Gotta go get Green Arrow,” Clark muttered, his eyes closing and then reopening them with a jolt. “Did we win?”

“Clark…” Bruce trailed off, as Death waved a hand to where Oliver was. They all watched as the metal table that held Green Arrow unwound itself from around the man and then flew backwards.

“Yeah, Batman?” Clark questioned, his voice hoarse and breathless and exhausted.

“Uh… Should we be...”

They watched as both Death and Clark Kent walked over to pick up Oliver Queen, treating him with the same gentleness as Death had treated Clark.

“Should we be fighting Death for you?” Bruce questioned faintly, slightly leaning on Diana in exhaustion.

“Nah. He’s alright,” Clark muttered, his eyes closing again. “See you back at the Watchtower, Batman. It’s okay. He’s just a tad bit protective of us.”

Barry let out a choked laugh as Death turned to them, stared at them with amusement in his green eyes. “Death. Is protective of you. You know it?”

Death grinned as shadows once again pooled around him, curling around Superman and Green Arrow. “It goes with the wedding vows, Flash.”

Barry blinked, his eyes widening at the eerie voice and at the crack in the air. Death vanished and so did the two men in his arms.

“So… did that just happen?” Bruce questioned, his skin pale as he turned to look at Diana and Barry.

“Yep.”

Chapter Text

“You’re always so needy,” Harry teased, heat in his green eyes and a smirk on his lips.

Clint whined and tried to arch up, tried to get more friction for his aching cock. “ Harry.”

Harry grinned and leaned down to run his tongue over Clint’s bare chest, pressing a warm kiss to the place where Clint had gotten injured during the battle. Harry trailed his fingers over a nipple, playing with it for a minute before moving to the other and Clint curled his fingers into the mattress underneath him, panting with need. Harry’s fingers trailed down to stroke over his hips, curling his nails into his sides. Goosebumps covered his skin and Clint’s heart raced even more, like it was superspeeding out of his chest. He peered up at him, catching and holding his eyes. “You want me inside you, you’re gonna have to wait.”

Clint moaned as he looked right into Harry’s eyes. “Please. Fuck.”

Harry trailed downward, moving down his body to trace his thighs, stroking his inner thighs and skipping his cock. Clint pushed his hips up, trying to get Harry to touch his cock only for Harry to reach an arm up to press down onto his hips.

“Not yet,” Harry reminded him, his eyes narrowing. “Gotta get you stretched.”

I need… Harry,” Clint whined again, his heart racing and sweat beading down his back and making him sticky. “ Need you.”

Harry bent down, pressing a kiss to his inner thighs and Clint whimpered, bucking up as Harry sucked a bruise into his skin. His fingers trailed down, past his slowly leaking cock and down to his hole, stroking circles into heated skin. Clint whined, arching into the touch and leaning down to frantically pull Harry up and into a kiss.

Harry grinned into it, licking into his mouth just as he slipped a wet finger into him. Clint yelped, letting out a groan immediately afterward at the slight burn. Harry had probably used a charm to lubricate his fingers like usual, lazy enough to not wait around to find the actual vial of lube. The slippery sounds of lube and come filled the air as Harry curled another finger into him, hitting that spot once before withdrawing.

Clint whined and tried to move, trying to get Harry to fuck him already. Harry grinned down at him as his fingers circled his rim, teasing and warm and… “Fuck. Just fuck me already.”

Harry’s grin widened as he slipped his fingers back into him, crooking at just the right angle. Clint moaned into it, pleasure sparking through him and heat building at the base of his spine, and watched dazedly as Harry slipped off his pants with his other hand, his cock hard. Clint watched as Harry smirk at him and then line himself up, sliding home with one thrust and Clint yelled out, gasping out breaths as pleasure rocketed through him, orgasm began to build. His bare toes curled into the sheets and he wrapped his arms around Harry’s back, curling into his skin to tug him closer.

“That feel good?” Harry questioned breathlessly, his eyes wide with arousal.

Clint drew one hand away and stuck out his middle finger. Harry snorted and pressed down into him, swallowing up his next whine with a heated kiss. Harry pulled out a little and thrust back into him, hitting that spot again that made Clint see stars. Or maybe they were arrowheads. He didn’t know and he didn’t care. He felt full, safe… and his orgasm was close.

“You have enough energy to flip me off,” Harry teased, reaching down to slip a finger between his cock and Clint’s hole. Clint sucked in a tight breath like he had been sucker punched and Harry withdrew his finger, reaching up to pull at one of Clint’s nipples. “I’m clearly doing something wrong.”

“You’re… fuck. Do that again .”

Clint let out the breath and deflated, sinking further onto Harry’s cock, pleasure skittering across his skin and through his blood. His heart beat quickly and Harry grinned down at him, withdrawing a little bit more and then thrusting in hard. Feather touches of his magic curled around his cock, green in color just like Harry’s bright green eyes, and yanked, sending him over the edge. He yelled out as pleasure shot through him, his heart beating frantically.

The last thing he heard before he passed out was a little startled sound of horror.




 

 

When he opened his eyes, he was in Harry’s arms, cradled gently and there were fingers carding through his hair, lightly tugging. He blinked sleepily, yawned and peered up into Harry’s amused eyes. The hand disappeared and Clint sighed at the absence, wondering if there was a polite way to ask for Harry to put his hand back, to card his fingers through his hair again. Though his body felt like a spark plug, the lightest touch felt like it could make his cock twitch with renewed interest.

“What was that?” Clint muttered, turning onto his back and throwing an arm over his eyes.

“What was what?”

Clint dropped his arm and glared at Harry, raising an eyebrow. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Harry grinned at him, heat in his narrowed eyes and held up his hands, signing fluidly.

You’re mine. I was just… staking a claim.

Clint stared and continued to stare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Clint stared at Harry and then sighed, throwing his arm over his eyes again.




 

 

Clint wandered out of his rooms the next morning, seeing Thor drinking from a mug of coffee in the kitchen. Tony was tinkering with a tablet, or maybe it was a car part? Natasha was painting her toenails over on the chair by the table in the living room. Bruce was sitting on one of the chairs by the kitchen island, nursing a mug of tea, and Steve was glaring at the tv, watching a news channel.

The two newbies to the team, Pietro and Wanda, were huddled over in the corner. There was no evidence of gunshot wounds on Pietro’s chest, courtesy of Harry healing him. When Clint peered over to them, Pietro looked up and nodded, a little hint of an amused grin on his face.

Wanda looked up at him before very hastily turning back to her twin, her cheeks turning red instantly. Clint blinked and watched her, seeing her shoulders curling inward.

“Wanda?”

“Barton,” Wanda said, turning to look at him but not meeting his eyes at all.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Wanda answered, her cheeks still red with embarrassment.

Clint nodded and headed to the coffee pot, reaching out on sleepy instinct.

“Good morning, arrow boy,” Harry whispered, drawing him in for a quick, chaste kiss and handing him a warm mug.

Clint mumbled a thanks and took a sip of his precious, his world narrowing to the contents of the mug. He sighed in contentment, heading over to sit on another island chair and let the coffee take effect. It took a few minutes but his mind finally caught up, his brain jolting at the memory of yesterday and Wanda’s reaction this morning.

He turned to glare at Harry, who was leaning against one of the kitchen counters. Harry grinned and shrugged.

“I said I was staking a claim,” Harry offered, bemusement in his eyes. “You’ve had enough magic messing with your head for a century.”

Clint stared at him and then turned to slowly look at Wanda, who let out an eep of surprise and turned back to talk to Pietro in Russian.

“Did it have to be with sex?”

“No...” Harry remarked, smirking at him.

“Awww, sex.”

“You can’t tell me you hated it,” Harry retorted, grinning and turning to look in the refrigerator for breakfast food.

Clint just held out his arm and stretched his middle finger up slowly. Harry let out a quiet laugh and signed behind his back.

Love you.

 

Chapter Text

Harry paused at the sink, his eyes narrowing as he magically shut off the tv in the living room. Silence filled the room before that familiar growl roared down the driveway. He grinned, tapped his wand against the sink counter and watched as the dishes began to clean themselves, and walked over to the doorway. The moon was bright tonight as it shone down onto the Impala, glinting off the headlights and bringing light to the driver.

Harry froze at the sight, watching as the car crawled all the way up the driveway at a slow pace, like the driver’s foot was not putting too much pressure on the gas pedal. 

“Dean!”

His hunter was in the driver’s seat, alone with no other passengers in the car, with two gashes on his head. Harry nearly flew down the porch steps and raced over to the Impala as it stuttered to a stop, the engine idling. The scent of blood filled the air as Harry yanked the driver’s door open, looking Dean Winchester over. 

Dean was lying against the seat, slumped against it, his eyes fluttering behind lashes. There was a hole through his right shoulder, blood pumping through it sluggishly, that looked like a bullet wound. Harry winced but shook his head at the memories attempting to make a come back and knelt down, reaching out to place a hand on Dean’s closest knee.

“Dean?”

A strangled groan left Dean’s throat and his eyes opened immediately, flashing open lightning fast and widening. His arms flexed and one slowly went to the gun on the passenger seat. Harry reached out for both of Dean’s hands, grabbing them up in one.

“It’s me, Dean,” Harry whispered, cupping his chin and turning Dean to face him. “It’s just me. You’re safe.”

Dean blinked, his green eyes wide with delayed fear and then he took a deep breath and deflated, slumping into Harry’s arms. “ Harry.

“Yeah, I’ve got you. Let’s get you inside,” Harry murmured, slipping an arm around Dean’s waist and helping him out of the car. Harry pulled him up and out, tightening his arms when Dean stumbled into him, exhaustion taking its toll. He hesitated for a minute, staring at the pool of blood that Dean had left in the car then left it, knowing that it wouldn’t get stolen since it was within his wards.

Dean groaned quietly, leaving Harry to take most of his weight as they walked back into his home and up to the master bedroom. Harry slowly walked both of them into the bathroom, lowering Dean to the toilet seat and kneeling to catch his eyes.

“What happened?” Harry questioned, catching Dean’s dull eyes and pulling out his med kit from the cabinet.




 

 

“Witches. One of them was a cop,” Dean muttered, leaning against the toilet and looking down at Harry as he set up healing supplies. His heart beat erratically within his chest as Harry gently helped him out of his shirt. He winced as pain flared throughout his body, his nerves on fire. It felt like heat was licking at his nerves, at his muscles. His ribs were on fire, possibly broken, definitely bruised.

Harry’s light touches weren’t even turning him on now, his mind slow and dazed. The dirt that he could feel on his body vanished with a word from Harry, the leaking blood disappeared.

“You want some hot chocolate after I patch you up?” Harry asked, as he pressed a charmed bandage to Dean’s skin. Harry’s bright green eyes were narrowed in concentration, his frown deepening by the minute as he peered at the gashes on Dean’s forehead. 

“Bed,” Dean said, sucking in a tight breath as Harry’s fingers traced a path over his chest, testing his ribs. “M’tired enough to sleep for a week.”

Harry grinned a little, his smile not making it to his eyes and moved his fingers up. He was seeing something that Dean wasn’t and he supposed it was a spell or maybe it was something in his own expression.

“This one’s broken,” Harry remarked, meeting his eyes, an apologetic frown on his lips. 

“Do it.”

Harry grimaced, rolling his eyes and murmured another spell, touching Dean’s chest with the tip of his wand. Coolness radiated outward from it and his chest went numb. He sighed with relief and heard the crack that signaled a rib mending itself. 

“Next time I see John, I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind,” Harry muttered, his eyes moving to the bullet wound on Dean’s shoulder. 

“It’s not John’s fault,” Dean muttered, inhaling sharply as Harry traced the wound. “I was just too slow.”

Harry caught his eyes, held them for a minute. “You’re 24 and you’ve already had four broken ribs and one broken leg, three concussions and at least 2 gunshot wounds. And Merlin knows you’ve probably had other wounds that I wasn’t around to heal.”

“They’ve all been my fault. Dad’s not to blame.”

“Alright,” Harry said, his eyes softening at Dean’s frown. “Let me heal your shoulder and I’ll get you into the shower.”

Dean swayed on the seat and Harry reached out to curl a hand around Dean’s neck, pulled him in as he whispered spells. He shivered as he distantly felt his skin knit itself together under Harry’s gaze, slumping into his boyfriend when the pain vanished, taking in a deep breath. 

“Shower sounds good,” Dean whispered.

Harry grinned and helped him up, helped him to unbuckle his belt and jeans, pulled them off. The shower turned on instantly as Dean carefully stumbled over to the walk in shower, looking eagerly on the gloriously big shower stall. 

“One of the perks of having a rich boyfriend,” Dean said, leaning against the wall as Harry pulled away to gather towels. 

Harry snorted as he undressed himself, shucking off jeans, shirt, shoes and stepping into the shower. “Yeah. Suppose it does come in handy to have a boyfriend who can also patch you up after a hunt. C’mere.”

Harry reached out his arms, catching Dean’s as he walked in, pulling him in for a warm embrace and a hot kiss. Dean groaned into the kiss, feeling Harry’s hand come up to cup his neck. The spray of the water hit them as he took a step closer, the water a perfect temperature. Dean pulled apart first, leaning on Harry as his boyfriend reached for the shampoo, dribbling some into his palm. 

Harry stepped around him, ending up at his back and encouraged him to lean back. Dean shivered as Harry’s hands moved up into his hair, fingers carding through his hair and scratching his scalp. He moaned and arched into the touch, letting Harry clean him and slumping further into him. 

Dean whined as Harry pressed a kiss to his neck as he shampooed his hair, closed his eyes when Harry asked him to. Water washed the soap out and Harry traced his hands over Dean’s skin, bringing out another long whine. Dean’s cheeks reddened and he tried to pull away only for Harry to wrap his arms around his waist, holding him.

“It’s alright,” Harry whispered, tracing his fingers lightly over Dean’s arms and rubbing up and down his chest. “Just us.”

Goosebumps crawled up his skin as Harry’s fingers danced, as lips pressed to his the crook of his shoulder and trailed wet kisses up his neck. His cock ached and hardened and he moaned as Harry’s fingers rubbed at his nipple, thumbing it playfully. 

Dean bucked up into Harry’s hand as it reached down, wrapping around his cock. “ Harry. Please.”

His heart pounded within his chest and pleasure sparked throughout his body, lighting his nerves up with sensation. His toes curled and he scrambled, trying to turn around to get his hands on Harry too but the arm around his waist tightened a little, holding him still.

“This is about you,” Harry murmured, twisting his hand over Dean’s cock, stroking it to fullness. Pre-come leaked from the tip and Harry groaned behind him. Dean could feel Harry’s hard cock against his ass and he let out a strangled gasp, bucking against the man behind him. Harry’s fingers lightly dug into his bare skin, water sloshing down both of their bodies. 

Dean reached out an arm to the wall of the shower, leaning against it as Harry withdrew his supporting arm to trail down his back. Fingers passed his waist and traced not so soothing circles on his ass, circling the rim of his hole and… Dean whined and pushed back against Harry’s fingers, his cock aching with it.

A finger slipped into him and that sent him over the edge, letting out a groan as his release echoed through him. His heart beat slowed and his breathing deepened as pleasure rocketed his body, one of Harry’s arms holding him up.

“Should ease your sleep,” Harry murmured, his voice hoarse with pleasure.

Dean snorted, leaning back against Harry and letting the other man hold him up. “You sound like Sammy. Always had random facts like that.”

“Heard anything from him?” Harry questioned quietly, reaching to grab a washcloth and wiping down Dean’s skin. The water carried away the evidence of both of their releases and Dean almost shook with pleasure and exhaustion, leaning more of his weight on Harry. 

“No. Boy’s busy with college,” Dean muttered.

Harry pressed another kiss on his neck, making him shiver with it, and then turned off the shower, helping him out and handing him a towel. “You… could go to college too, you know.”

“Dad wants me with him,” Dean said, shrugging as he dried himself off, dropping the towel to the floor when he was done. Harry sighed and reached over to entwine their hands, tugged him out of the bathroom and to the bed, lifting up the covers for him to slide under. “Says he has more things to teach me.”

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, sliding into the bed on the other side. Dean turned towards him, pulling up the covers and burrowing into Harry’s arms, feeling them wrap around him. His eyes drooped closed a minute after his head hit the pillow, letting sleep drag him under. The last thing he felt was a light kiss pressed to his forehead, hands rubbing at his back.



Chapter Text

Harry watched as the President of the Magical Congress continued to talk, something about the increasing danger of keeping their people safe from non magical people. His mind was off on her talk and half on the semicircle of people in front of her, noting who was nodding and who was slowly shaking their heads. He had no input on this one, was just here as an English ambassador but with the non magical American president still presiding over a war in Afghanistan, tensions were high.

There was a brief pause in the talk as Harry was drawn out of his thoughts to everyone staring at him. He raised an eyebrow and then finally the sound of a phone ringing made him jolt. His heart skipped a beat or two and his eyes widened at the narrowed eyes of everyone around him.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered, standing up and walking out of the room. As soon as he stepped through the door, closing it behind him, he reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, answering it on the last ring. Only one person would be on the other end and he grinned. “Hey, Spencer.”

“Harry, hey, hi, uh, I…” Spencer trailed off, his voice shaky even through the phone. “ My heat…”

Harry’s eyes widened and then he stiffened. “You want me to pick you up? Are you at the BAU?”

“I… Yes, please. I need you.”

Harry closed his eyes, swore under his breath in what might not have been english. “ Fuck . I’ll be right there in just a minute. Hold on for me?”

“Hurry.”

“Stay on the phone. Just need to send a patronus,” Harry muttered, casting the spell wordlessly and watching as Prongs leapt into existence in front of him. The glowing deer whinnied eerily and waited for his message before galloping off to his team in another part of the building. “Okay, I’m on the way. Hold on.”




 

 

Reid paced in the elevator lobby as he waited, his heart racing within his chest and heat flaring in his nerves. He could already feel his body making ready for the heat to come, slick slowly trailing down his thighs. He pressed his legs together and hoped that none of the team could see him. As soon as he heard the slight crack of apparition, he craned his head to look for the man and headed right to Harry as soon as he saw him.

“Spencer,” Harry whispered, holding out his arms and embracing him, curling around him. “Sorry. I forgot. You ready to get out of here?”

“It’s… not a problem,” Reid murmured, burrowing into Harry’s arms and pressing his nose to the bare skin between Harry’s neck and shoulders, inhaling deeply. He sighed in relief at the smell, his body relaxing as warmth slithered through him. Harry always smelled like the ozone of an oncoming storm and lilies, the scent that usually made Reid relax almost immediately. “You’re here.”

“Yeah. You tell everyone that you’re…”

“They knew,” Reid said, feeling Harry’s arms tighten around him even more.

“Of course. You up for-- Yeah. Let’s just get out of here,” Harry muttered hoarsely, stroking his back through his shirt. Reid could feel Harry’s cock through their jeans and his heart sped up at the hint of things to come. He closed his eyes automatically even as Harry disapparated them from the offices of the BAU.

 


 

 

They landed right in their living room and Reid immediately dropped his messenger bag on his desk, shucking off his shirt and pants. Harry drew off his shirt and drew him in for a kiss, hot and wet and Reid moaned into it, trying to get as close to Harry as he could. Harry grinned and slid his tongue out, into his mouth, as his hands traced his bare chest.

“You take your pill?” Harry whispered, his eyes wide with arousal even as he ducked down to press a sucking kiss into Reid’s neck. 

Ahhh, yeah. Harry.

“I’ve got you,” Harry returned quietly, his green eyes going dark as he slid his arms around him and picked him up with not a lot of effort. Reid yelped and leaned into Harry as he walked them both into the bedroom, curling his arms around Harry’s neck. One of Harry’s hands made its’ way to Reid’s waist as they walked, trailing not so soothing circles into his skin as they stopped at the bed. 

Sweat dropped down his back and slick dribbled down his inner thighs as Harry lowered him gently down to the mattress. Reid gasped out as Harry leaned down over him to stroke his cock, once, twice, and then he came, his toes curling, his heart racing. 

Reid groaned and wrapped his arms around Harry, trying to pull him down, to get more friction, to get relief from the heat. Harry let out a strangled moan as Reid deepened the kiss, squirming around on the bed.




 

 

Harry looked down at the man underneath him, the man who had drawn his interest from the first that they had run into each other. Reid looked incredible, splayed out on the bed, sweaty and needy. His cock was hard still and Harry dropped down, placed a hand on Reid’s chest, and swallowed him in one try. Reid jolted up, whining low in his throat, and Harry pressed down, sucking him down and tonguing the head. It didn’t take a lot for Reid to come, his brown eyes wide and his mouth wide open, his breathing shallow.

Harry grinned as he slid off, reaching down to undo his own pants and slipping them off. He stepped up onto the bed as soon as he took his shoes off, pressing a kiss to Reid’s waist, licked a path up to a nipple and laved at it. Reid whimpered and grasped at Harry’s shoulder, pulling him in closer as he squirmed around on the bed.




 

 

Reid whined, his body on fire and pleasure slithering through him like one of Harry’s snakes. “ Just fuck me already!”

“But you’re so beautiful like this,” Harry murmured, his lips twitching up into a small heated, grin. His voice was hoarse with desire as he nipped and licked a path up Reid’s neck, pressing into him for a kiss. “ Mine.”

Reid groaned into the kiss, melting into the mattress underneath him. “ Yours alpha. I’m yours.”

Harry’s eyes flashed and he dipped down to press a finger into him. Reid bucked down onto the finger, whined low in his throat, hoping that Harry would get on with it and fuck him already! Harry rolled his eyes in amusement and slipped another finger into him, curling them enough to hit that spot. 

Reid watched as Harry brought a finger up to his mouth, a finger that was covered in Reid’s slick, and tasted it, swiping some off with his tongue. Reid whimpered at the sight.

“You taste wonderful,” Harry whispered, leaning down to kiss him again, a hand moving into Reid’s brown hair.

Reid moaned loudly, past the point of caring, as pleasure jolted through him. “ Alpha.”

Harry blinked, his eyes darkening even more at the word and added another finger, stretching him and stroking his hole before withdrawing. Reid wrapped his arms around Harry, digging into the other man’s back, tried to get him to fill him up. Harry looked at him, his eyes narrowing and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, his clean hand carding through his hair.

Reid blinked through heat-haze, watched as Harry smiled softly and then slid right into him. Reid yelled out, bucked up and Harry pressed a kiss to his mouth, swallowing up his moans even as he slid all the way in, hitting that spot again. Reid came again, his nerves on edge as he heard the wet squelch of sound fill the room. He shuddered, trembling on the bed as Harry withdrew an inch and then slid back in hard, flesh hitting flesh.

He felt so full, surrounded by Harry, as he sank deeper onto the cock inside him and Harry groaned, closing his eyes and coming. Harry’s cock grew in size inside him and Reid groaned, his eyes already drooping closed in satisfaction.




 

 

There were fingers carding through his hair when he woke up and he arched into them, the pleasurable tingling feeling running roughshod through him. He felt Harry’s other arm tighten around him at the motion and the other hand started to pull away only for Reid to whine. 

“Hey, Spencer,” Harry whispered, amusement in his voice as he continued to card his fingers through his hair. “You seemed more… intense this heat.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, it’s just you were gorgeous,” Harry offered, peering into his eyes. “I know this is only our second heat together so…”

“Studies show that most people with intense heats usually don’t have long durations,” Reid said, looking at Harry intently as he felt his cheeks redden. “In fact, your magic could have heightened it. I… don’t know a lot about wizards though.”

Harry grinned. “I’ll get you some books to read. You and Hermione could probably have a long discussion about it.”






“Reid?”

“No, it’s Garcia? His coworker?”

Harry blinked, his eyes narrowing and his heart skipped a beat. “He mentioned you, yeah. What’s wrong?”

“He’s been kidnapped,” Garcia said, her voice quiet and shaky. Somehow Harry thought that she didn’t usually sound like that but then her words caught up to him.

The window blinds in the room around him shook and the water in the pot on the stove bubbled. Harry took a deep breath, breathing out, and counted to three. The night sky darkened his windows and the trees outside swayed, almost whistling. “Kidnapped?”

“We’re in Georgia. Tobias Hankel, our current unsub, kidnapped Reid. The rest of the team is on the way to find him right now.”

Harry let out a low growl almost unconsciously, reached out a hand as his broom flew right to him. “Let them know I’m the way. I know I haven’t met any of you yet but…”

“Reid told me about you,” Garcia replied over the phone. “I figured you should be called.”

“How’d you get my number?”

“Nothing’s hidden on the internet.”

Harry shrugged. “Alright. I’ll take your word for it. Where in Georgia are they?”

 




The trees swayed underneath him as he flew over rural Georgia, speeding under the night sky as he headed towards where the BAU was. Thirty minutes south of Atlanta, Georgia. Rural Georgia. He’d never been south of New York and never would have had Georgia on his radar of places to go. No magical community. 

He passed the main highway and continued on turning left at the sign for the small motel, picked up speed as he saw the black SUV’s. He followed the vehicles from above, made sure his cloaking spells were still activated and flew on, the wind whipping against his quidditch goggles.

 




Harry slowed as the cars below them did, over a small cemetery and cabin, and slowly floated downward. He maneuvered himself so he would land behind a tree, landed and shrunk his broomstick so that he could tuck it in a pocket. He uncloaked himself as the rest of the BAU was getting out of their cars and then shifted shape between one step and the next, circling the cabin and inhaling deeply.

He was thankful enough that his animagus form was a dark colored animal, even more grateful that it was easy to not make much noise. His claws sunk into the dirt easily, providing him with more traction than just two legs would and searched for any sign of Spencer Reid.

The man always smelled like books to him. Books, a slight hint of gun metal, and the bitter scent of anxiety and… There he was. He roared and took off at a run, hearing the startled yells of Reid’s teammates as they ran outside the cabin. Each had a gun in their hands and each immediately zeroed in on him as he ran through the cemetery, flexing his claws in the dirt.

He couldn’t stop the low growl in his throat at the sight that met him, at the gunshot that echoed throughout the valley. Reid was kneeling before a body and Harry froze before shifting back onto two legs, raw magic pooling at his fingertips as he padded over. The moon shone down on them, illuminating the scene in front of him.

“Reid?”

“Reid!”

His team finally arrived at the scene and all of them took one look at him before running up to Reid. Harry followed, studying each member of the BAU. He had heard of the team from Spencer, enough to recognize each person.

Agent Aaron Hotchner. Agent Jason Gideon. Agent JJ Jareau. Agent Emily Prentiss. Agent Derek Morgan. Agent Hotchner walked right up to Reid and coaxed him up, steadying him as he swayed on his feet. Harry watched as Reid turned in Agent Hotchner’s arms, watched as the older man returned the hug briefly before handing Reid over to Agent Jareau. 

Harry watched as Reid hugged Agent Jareau in return, a tighter hug than he had given Agent Hotchner. He took in the way that Reid was favoring his left leg and the dried blood on the left side of his face, his pale skin and reached into another pocket, made sure his kit was in it.

“You the man that Garcia warned us about?” Agent Hotchner questioned, walking up to him, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.” 

Harry.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat at Reid’s voice, dry and hoarse, and hesitantly closed the distance, pulling him into his arms. Reid let out a loud sigh and burrowed into him, his shivering body making Harry shiver too. 

You’re okay,” Harry whispered, curling a hand around Reid’s neck and tugging him even closer. He slipped his other arm around Reid’s waist, steadying him even as Reid’s shaking grew worse. “I got you.”

“You’re a panther?” Reid whispered, his voice muffled.

Harry grinned, tightened his arms and reached into another pocket to draw out a cloak.

 


 

 

“Yeah, I’m a panther,” Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Reid shivered in Harry’s arms, took another deep breath as a thick cloak wrapped around him. He shuddered with the extra warmth and then deflated, feeling Harry tighten his arms to compensate for the extra weight. “You came.”

“Garcia. She called. Let’s get you out of here.”

“I…” Reid trailed off, pulling back a little and looking into Harry’s soft eyes and then turning to look back at Hankel. He could almost see the vials of Dilaudid in Hankel’s pocket.

“Reid?” 

Fingers cupped his chin, turned him to face Harry. His green eyes were searching Reid, looking for something.

“I have my kit with me,” Harry offered, his eyes flashing with something indescribable. Maybe it was worry. Whatever it was, it reminded Reid of whenever Harry told him stories of the wizarding war.

“Alright.”

Harry looked at him, raised an eyebrow. Reid nodded and burrowed even further against him, curling his arms around Harry’s neck as the other man picked him up in a bridal carry, taking care with his leg. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

 

Chapter Text

Aaron paused on the porch, his arms at his sides and his go bag in his hands, and sighed. The moon shone down onto the stone porch and the chilly breeze of the evening circled around him. The light from the house flooded the porch and lit up the stone pillars that cornered the porch. Faint flakes of snow fell onto the ground behind him and the door opened just as he raised his hand to knock.

Harry stood on the other side of the doorway, his green eyes narrowed. He was already in a loose shirt and pajama pants that had little golden snitches on them for bed. There was no visible wand holster anywhere on Harry’s body but Aaron knew that Harry didn’t need instant access to a wand if anything happened. Harry was a weapon and they both knew it. “Aaron?”

“I… Can I stay here for the night?”

“Sure, of course.”

Harry stepped aside and opened the door wider. Aaron walked inside, breathing a sigh of relief at the warmth. The door closed behind him and Harry came around to stand in front of him, crossing his arms and looking him over. 

“You already have dinner or do I need to feed you?”

Aaron blinked and shook his head. “I got dinner with the team. I’m okay.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly to the gun at Aaron’s waist before meeting his eyes. “Bad case? You usually don’t come here right after leaving work.”

“Murdered children. One of them… looked like Jack.”

Harry’s eyes softened and he took a step closer towards him, his arms loose at his sides. “What do you need?”

Aaron sucked in a tight breath, his suit still on his body, his gun reholstered after killing the unsub today. His heart thundered within his chest and he looked down at the go bag in his hands. “I can’t… I…”

Two fingers tipped his chin up and he looked into Harry’s eyes, the warmth of his touch invading him and he deflated. Harry looked at him, perhaps searching for something. Aaron wasn’t too sure what the man was looking for or if he found it but Harry nodded. Harry wasn’t a profiler but there were some things that Harry just saw, regardless of training.

“I was just about to recheck the wards before bed. Go, I’ll meet you in the bedroom. Leave your guns in the safe,” Harry remarked quietly, wrinkling his nose before withdrawing his fingers. 

“Are you sure I can stay?”

“There’s no one else in the house tonight,” Harry answered, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “Well… Buckbeak’s around in the yard somewhere but I’m pretty sure you’re not asking about nonhumans.”

“No. I wasn’t. Thanks.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Are you still… looking for Foyet?”

Aaron nodded, shivering slightly at the reminder. “I don’t know if we’ll find him before ten years passes though. He didn’t start killing again until Shaunessy was dying and that was ten years later.”

“You want magical help?”

“No. It’s… on me.”

Harry let out a noise of consideration at his words and took a step closer towards him. “You can stay here while I check on the wards if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Harry nodded, reached out to grasp his shoulder and squeeze before he pulled away, sitting down cross legged on the floor. Aaron watched as Harry breathed in deeply and then a slight, white glow covered the man’s body. The walls of the house lit up in greens and reds, shields of light racing around the home’s walls and covering every inch of it.

Energy filled the room and Aaron sucked in a tight breath at the visible reminder of Harry’s magic. Harry’s warding was strong and would keep out any people who wanted to do harm to either man and yet Aaron stayed where he was, staring at the door as the shields of red and green met.

He turned around to look at the home before him, taking in the beautiful kitchen countertops and the island in the middle. The dining table could hold as many as ten people, something that Harry had offhandedly told him at some point. The wizard had a big adopted family and there was space for every single person. 

The safe was just beyond the kitchen, in the little nook under the stairs and Aaron took one last look at Harry before walking over to the shelving unit under the stairs. It looked like a cubby unit, with several different containers of items in various boxes. The safe was in the middle of it and Aaron reached out, placing his palm on the lid. 

The box lit up and almost seemed to hum before the lid swung open, recognizing him. Aaron reached down to pull out the gun on his belt and the gun at his ankle before sliding them in. There were a few other magical items in the safe and Aaron didn’t pay them much attention as he closed the safe lid. The box lit up again with subtle green magic and then went dark.

“Do you want to do anything before bed? We could watch a movie.”

“I’m tired enough to sleep for a week,” Aaron whispered, his heart racing at Harry’s sudden appearance. He hadn’t heard the other man walk up or finish checking the wards at all. “It’s only been…”

“A month since Foyet attacked you and your case in Canada. I know. Come on. See if I can take you apart slower tonight. Get you out of your head.”

Aaron’s cheeks reddened and Harry grinned a little, reaching out a hand to wrap around his waist. 




 

 

Harry curled an arm around Aaron’s waist and reeled him in like a fishermen would a fish, leaning into press a kiss to his mouth. Aaron groaned and melted into him, his eyes widening with arousal and his cock hardening. His heart raced as Harry slipped his tongue into his mouth, brushing against his own. 

Harry deepened the kiss further, swallowed up Aaron’s whine and slipped a hand underneath his shirt, stroking circles into heated skin. Aaron started a little, pulling away and stared at him, dropping his hands over his shirt.

“Aaron?”

“My… Foyet…”

“Your scars?” Harry asked, his eyes softening even more. “Aaron, I have scars too. A rather visible one too. I’m not going to judge you.”

“ I let him--”

“You didn’t let him do anything,” Harry argued, his eyes narrowing.

Aaron stared at him, breathing hard, his lips kiss bruised and his eyes wide. “I let him get away.”

Harry stared back. “You were unconscious. You couldn’t have done anything.”

“I stayed awake until he was done.”

Aaron sucked in a tight breath, curling his arm around his chest. “I remember… I remember everything that he did that night.”

“Aaron…”

“And now he’s after my family. It’s my fault.”

“That…” Harry trailed off, reaching out a hand, palm up. “Is not your fault, Aaron Hotchner. What does your team tell victims of a crime like this? It’s not their fault.

“I should have--”

“What? You should have what? Aaron, this and whatever Foyet did after you told him you weren’t going to take his deal, is not your fault. How my godfather died is not my fault and this is no different.”

“I let him… touch me,” Aaron finally said, breathing hard and staring at him with unfocused eyes. “I should have fought harder.”

Harry’s eyes flashed and then he sighed. “You were exhausted and beat up. Don’t you dare blame yourself for what Foyet did. However you were with Foyet while he was… attacking you, you must have thought he would have done more if you had fought harder. You’re a damn good profiler, Aaron. You did what you had to to survive.”

Aaron stared at him and Harry blinked, reached out his hand to entwine their fingers. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” Harry finally said, his voice quiet but husky, bringing Aaron’s hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles. Aaron went bright red at the kiss, his eyes widening even more. “I know what it’s like to lead a team. Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

Aaron dipped his head in a nod and curled his fingers around Harry’s as the other man led him upstairs. It was silent as they walked up the stairs but it was a companionable silence and Harry left him to think, as they walked towards the master bedroom. Aaron knew that Harry had one guest room upstairs and one downstairs while Harry had another room that served as an office.

The master bedroom was large, larger than a normal master bedroom, with a fireplace and a huge bathroom attached to it. It was the exact opposite of how Harry had lived as a child, of a childhood spent in very tightly enclosed spaces. The fireplace was crackling with life, the fire mostly contained within the space.

There were a few books on the bedside table but definitely not as many as Spencer’s and not as big either. Harry’s holly wand was on the bedside table, closer to the bed, easily reachable. 

Harry stopped in front of him, yawned briefly and gave him a once over look before gently pushing him in the direction of the bed. “Is your team on stand down for the next few days or are you due back tomorrow?”

“We’re on stand down. The last case took a few days and… I will need to go back in tomorrow but not for a case.”

Harry nodded idly and pressed a hand to Aaron’s chest, raising an eyebrow. 

Aaron looked at him and then sighed, leaning slightly towards him.

Harry quietly slipped his hands under Aaron’s suit jacket, reached up to slowly undo his tie, his fingers brushing skin. Aaron sucked in a tight breath, his eyes widening as Harry moved, pulling the tie off his neck and dropping it to the floor. Harry caught his eyes as he nudged Aaron backwards, the other man’s feet hitting the foot of the bed with a light thump.

Harry slipped his fingers underneath the suit shirt, stroking warm skin and helped Aaron to take off the shirt and vest, leaving his chest bare to the gaze. Half of the scars that Foyet had left were on Aaron’s chest, two down each arm and three on his chest and stomach. The other four were on Aaron’s legs and Harry sighed, drawing the man into another warm kiss. 

Harry gave a slight push and Aaron sat down, peering up at him with wide brown eyes. Harry met his eyes, pressed a kiss to his forehead and slipped his shoes off, throwing them away from the bed. Harry reached out to circle his waist, helping him shuck off the dress pants, revealing his boxers and his cock underneath. Harry grinned and ran his hand over the material and Aaron gasped, his breathing shaky as he stared, wide eyed, down at him. His world narrowed to the hand Harry had on him, as he palmed him through his boxers.

Desire shot through him like a bullet and he arched into Harry’s hand, trying to get friction as pre-come spurted. Harry smiled and stroked him, once, twice and then withdrew his hand. Aaron whined and would have followed him up had it not been for Harry stepping into the vee of his legs and reaching out to cup his chin. Harry  leaned down to press his lips to his and Aaron groaned, as Harry nipped his way into his mouth. 

One of Harry’s hands curled around his neck, rubbing circles into his skin. Aaron reached up to wrap his arm around Harry’s waist, opening his mouth to him as Harry brushed his tongue against his. 

Heat gathered at the base of his spine and his cock hardened even more as he took in a shaky breath. The bulge in Harry’s pants was very visible and his mouth went dry at the memory of their first night together. He watched as Harry shucked off his shirt, baring a mostly unscarred chest. Another little push and he fell back down onto the bed, on his back, and Harry followed him, tracing his fingers over his chest and scraping over a nipple, pulling a raw noise from him. 

Aaron reached an arm up to wrap around Harry’s back, pulling him closer and bucking as Harry’s other hand moved downward. Harry grinned down at him, his green eyes wide with arousal as he licked his lips.

Harry leaned down to lick a path up his chest, nipping little bites and Aaron almost bucked up, letting out a whine. He trembled with need, his heart racing at the heat in Harry’s eyes. 

Fuck, you look beautiful like this,” Harry muttered, smoothing his fingers over Aaron’s chest and leaned down to kiss a path up his chest. Aaron writhed underneath him, pleasure sparking through his body as Harry pressed a wet kiss at the base of his throat.

He tilted his head back, letting Harry have access to his throat and whined, his cock aching with the need to be touched. “Harry.”

“We have all night,” Harry whispered, as he sat in between his legs, his fingers pausing at his waist. “Can you wait?”

Harry.” Aaron’s voice was hoarse, husky and desperate as he squirmed around on the bed under him. Sweat dripped down his back and his heart thundered in his chest as he looked up at Harry, seeing the man’s wide green eyes and the heat in them. “I want… I want you. Please, fuck me.

Harry smiled, his cheeks reddening a little, and slipped his hand underneath his boxers, trailing his fingers down to stroke his inner thighs. Aaron groaned, his own fingers curling into the mattress, and attempted to buck up only for Harry to press down lightly. “Stay.” 

Aaron whined but stayed, hearing the steel underneath Harry’s words. 

Harry pulled away briefly and pulled off his pants, baring his hard cock. Aaron’s mouth went dry at the sight and Harry reached down to slip his boxers off, the material sliding off with feather light touches to his cock and lighting his nerves up with pleasure. He lifted his hips and Harry slid the material off easily, brushing past skin.

Harry’s fingers continued to circle his thighs, smoothing circles into his skin and then finally, finally sliding onto his cock. Aaron bucked up, letting out a strangled yell and Harry stroked him, smearing pre-come all over. He leaned down, swallowing up Aaron’s noise with a kiss, then withdrew his fingers, slid them downward, rubbing over muscle and warm skin. 

The moment that a finger slipped inside him, he sighed out in relief, moaned as it curled inside him and hit the spot.

“Look at you, all splayed out for me,” Harry whispered softly, crooking his finger and adding another one. “The unit chief of the BAU. I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Aaron groaned, heat gathering in his stomach. Pleasure sparked as Harry’s fingers hit curled further into him, stretching him out. He dug his fingers into the mattress underneath him and spread his legs even further, groaning as Harry slid yet another finger into him.




 

 

Harry watched as Aaron’s eyes widened and then closed tightly, his body stretched out beneath him. There was sweat on Aaron’s forehead and his hair had lost its combed over look. His fingers were digging into the mattress in a white knuckled grip. His cock was hard and spurting out pre-come continously and Harry reached down to stroke it again, his heart racing as he heard Aaron groan again, low and husky.

He withdrew his fingers from within the other man only a little bit, leaving them on the rim of the muscle. Felt as the muscle underneath him clenched around nothing and Aaron tried to move, his brown eyes opening, unfocused and wide with arousal. He looked a mess but a beautiful one, sweaty, his cock straining up and empty. 

Harry reached up to cup his chin and Aaron’s eyes focused on him. Brown eyes looked into green and Harry lined himself up and slid home in that instant, making Aaron yell out. Heat encompassed him and Harry sucked in a tight breath like he had suckerpunched, drawing his hand down to slip into Aaron’s right hand.

He paused there, just an inch inside and caught his breath before slowly slipping further in. Aaron whimpered underneath him, his fingers curling around Harry’s, and sank onto his cock. Harry groaned and thrust sharply, chasing his own release, making Aaron inhale sharply, his muscles clenching around him. 

Harry leaned down to press a kiss to Aaron’s waist, trailing up to lick a wet kiss on the crook between neck and shoulder and Aaron trembled underneath him. 

“If you want to come, you can,” Harry croaked out, his voice hoarse, pulling out a little and then sliding in again hard. “Aaron, it’s just me. Let go.”

Aaron whined, closing his eyes tightly before reopening them. Harry reached down a hand to stroke his cock, twisting slightly at its head and nipping a biting kiss into his skin. Aaron groaned, bucking up into Harry’s hand and came, his release bringing Harry over the edge as well.

“That’s it, love,” Harry whispered, his heart racing within his chest as he froze, pleasure rocketing through him. He stroked Aaron through his release, come splattering his stomach, and slipped out, casting a quiet cleaning charm over the both of them. 

Aaron groaned and his eyes blinked open slowly, looking up at him, pleasure in his eyes instead of guilt and tension. “Thank you.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a grin and Aaron rolled his eyes.

“You look like the cat that got the canary,” Aaron muttered, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“You feel better though, don’t you,” Harry remarked, turning over to lift up the covers on his side. “You’re welcome.”

“And to think, I thought you were the unsub a year ago,” Aaron retorted, lifting his arm up and watching as Harry made himself comfortable.

Harry blinked and snapped his fingers, the covers sliding down and covering Aaron as well. “I suppose I can see how you would think that. I’d make a very good criminal.”

Aaron snorted and melted into the covers, letting out a deep sigh. “You’d make a horrible criminal.”

“Excuse you, Agent Hotchner, I’d be the best,” Harry argued, poking him in the closest shoulder and using that as an excuse to curl an arm around him. “Let’s get some sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Whose fault is that?”

Harry rolled his eyes and ran his fingers over Aaron’s back, stroking circles into his skin. “It wasn’t your fault that you lost Foyet, Aaron, and it’s not your fault that he’s going after family. If you want someone to blame, blame him and not yourself. I’ll talk with the American WitSec in the morning to see if I can give Haley and Jack more protection. Meanwhile, I’m here. You’re alright and so is your team.”

Chapter Text

“Someone needs to go check on him,” Hershel said, glancing over at the prison from where they were in the yard. “He has a little girl.”

Harry exchanged looks with Glenn, sparing Oscar a glance, before nodding. “I’ll go. Command deck is yours, Glenn.”

Glenn snorted before his eyes narrowed. “Aye, aye. You are the Grimes whisperer anyway.”

Harry blinked and glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Glenn remarked, his lips twitching up into a small grin. The expression didn’t make it to his eyes though, not after what they had all been through in the last day or so.

Harry rolled his eyes and took off, tucking his hands into his pockets as he walked back through the prison yard and through the gate. He looked over to where the body of Lori lay, covered by a white sheet, and passed it by, keeping an eye out for any remaining walkers. By now, he knew what walkers felt like, in the magical sense, so he knew what to look for. The sense of wrongness, of death come undone.

He pushed open the cellblock door and stepped inside, nodding to Beth and stopping in front of Carl. The kid’s eyes were bloodshot and his skin was pale, his fingers trembling and Harry let out a deep sigh and tugged him into his arms. Carl let out a raw noise and burrowed into him, his breath hitching.

Harry didn’t say anything as he pressed a kiss to Carl’s forehead, rubbing his back. “You’re safe, Carl. I’m here.”

“I had to…”

“I know,” Harry whispered, kneeling to look him in the eyes. Carl sucked in a tight breath as he met Harry’s eyes. “You did what you had to. You know that she loved you, right?”

Carl nodded. “I know that.”

“I’m going after your dad. Is your sister…”

“Beth’s looking after her.”

“Alright. Sit tight. Hopefully Daryl and Maggie will be back with baby formula soon.” 

Carl nodded and pulled away first, drawing in a deep breath. Harry sighed and unlocked the cell door with a whispered word, stepped through and locked it behind him. He idly padded through the hallway, peering into open cells as he walked. They had lost Carol, T-Dog and Lori all in one fell swoop over the last 24 hours, more people than they had lost in a while. 

He ventured further into the cell block, following the trail of dead walkers that had gotten in somewhere, had gotten lured in by the remaining prisoner. Harry scowled at the thought, seeing his wand send out sparks, and continued walking, listening to the ambient sounds of the prison. The prison itself was quiet but there were walkers around here somewhere that they had yet to clear and… Rick was doing it all by himself.

The walkers he passed had been downed clearly by an axe and as he turned down yet another hallway, he could hear rough, shallow breathing. It wasn’t deep and it wasn’t quiet by any means. Harry stopped at another junction and turned right as he heard Rick further south. He paused, inhaled deeply and then cast a patronus, watching as Prongs leapt from his wand. The deer loped around him in a small circle, antlers pointed down, sensing his wariness.

“Rick?”

Heavy breathing echoed throughout the block but Rick didn’t say a word otherwise. The boiler room was just down the hall and Harry suspected that was where Rick was going, the room where Lori had given birth and then died. 

Harry walked around the last corner and came face to face with Rick Grimes. The man was bloody, dirty, sweaty but Harry could see no tears on his face. The axe in his hand was bloody and there was a body of a walker at his feet, freshly killed. The beard that Rick had started to grow in the last few weeks was dirty and Harry could see specks of blood in it.

The man didn’t look injured however so Harry suspected it wasn’t his blood. 

“Rick?”

He kept his voice low, not wanting to further startle him. 

Rick just stared at him, his blue eyes bloodshot and wide with exhaustion. His breathing was shallow but it wasn’t fast and Rick wasn’t blinking.

“Hey.”

Harry took a step closer towards Rick, seeing his grip on the axe grow tighter. His knuckles were white and his skin otherwise was very pale. Rick wasn’t even seeing Prongs, didn’t even peer at the glowing deer beside Harry. Prongs turned to Harry and then loped ahead, guarding the hallway. 

“Rick, you need to slow down,” Harry whispered, keeping his arms at his sides, one hand on his wand. 

There was no indication that Rick heard him. The man just kept staring at him, eyes dull. 

Harry stared at him, met Rick’s eyes and flinched before taking another step towards him. In a flash, Rick moved, pushing Harry towards the wall and pressed his arms up against his chest. Harry didn’t move, took in a deep breath and studied the man before him, drawing his own arms up to grasp Rick’s.

“Rick, it’s me. It’s just me. You’re safe,” Harry whispered, squeezing Rick’s wrists slightly in reassurance. He stared right into Rick’s eyes, watching as Rick continued to stare at him.

The man hadn’t spoken a single word yet. His wrists were thin and Harry winced and then swallowed his next words and cautiously crept his arms up Rick’s arms, curled an arm about his shoulders and curled an arm around Rick. 

Rick continued to stare at him and then as Harry slowly reeled him in closer, the man let out a shuddering breath. Rick trembled under Harry’s arms, his breathing growing louder. Harry sighed and pulled him in even closer, tucked him in even closer and waited.

 


 

 

Rick shuddered, blinked once, twice, as Harry pulled him into his arms. He let out a strangled breath, and stood stiffly in Harry’s arms, the ringing in his ears drowning out whatever Harry was saying. His knees trembled and his heart raced within his chest, his arms shook and Harry tightened his arms around him, tucking Rick’s head into the crook between his shoulder and neck. 

The touch of Harry’s fingers to his bare neck made a raw noise leave Rick’s throat and he collapsed, his knees buckling. The axe fell to the ground with a loud thunk and Rick could hear something else, something like what he remembered a dog sounding like.

“Shhh. You’re safe,” Harry whispered, curling his hand about his neck and supporting him as he fell. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Rick ended up halfway in Harry’s lap, with both of Harry’s arms holding him tightly. He tried to pull away, the sounds of walkers filling his ears but Harry held him fast, leaving just a little wriggle room. “Easy. You’re okay, sweetheart. Shhh.”

He could feel one of Harry’s hands slip underneath his shirt, the touch jolting him. Harry’s voice sounded watery itself and Rick wondered why the man sounded like he was crying. He yawned and burrowed even more into Harry’s arms, deflating. Rick felt the press of lips to his forehead, a hand cupping his neck and he melted.

 


 

 

Harry sighed in relief as soon as he felt Rick relax into him, loosening his arms around the man now that he wasn’t fighting. He continued to trace circles into Rick’s back, humming a quiet tune and leaned against the wall behind him. “Rick, let’s go get you cleaned up, hmm? Before you fall asleep on me?”

The man in his arms didn’t make a noise but he moved his head, in what could have been a nod, and Harry tightened his arms. He curled his arms around his the man further and helped him up, keeping one arm around his waist. 

“Come on. This way.”

Harry made sure Rick was as steady as he could be, which was to say not much, and led the way, keeping one arm about Rick’s waist. Prongs followed them, walking on Rick’s other side. He took them on a roundabout path to the showers, wanting to avoid Beth and Carl and the others for the moment. He kept Rick moving once they passed the boiler room and took a left at the next junction and ended up at the communal showers.

T-Dog had just gotten the showers up and running again the other day and Harry sighed at the reminder of the loss. There weren’t that many clean towels or bottles of shampoo or conditioner but they would make do with what they had right now. Harry walked Rick over to a bench, lowering him down to sit and knelt down before him, raising an eyebrow. Prongs loped over to the other entrance to the showers and seemed to peer into the hallway beyond them.

Rick blinked at him and looked around at where they were, his eyes widening. 

“You could do with a shower,” Harry remarked quietly, gesturing to the closest showerhead. “I’ll do all the work, okay?”

The sounds that Rick had started to make when Harry had touched his skin, his neck, rang in Harry’s ears. Rick had sounded like a beaten dog, whining low in his throat and Harry never wanted to hear that again. Lori and Rick had long since… ‘broken up’ before Lori’s death but Harry had seen them glance at each other. 

Rick stared at him, his eyes bloodshot and dull. Harry sighed and turned around, looking all over the shower hall and making sure there were no walkers. Once he cleared the area, he switched on the showerhead, summoning a towel or two and placed them nearby. Harry stripped his own clothes off, putting his clothes in a pile in the corner to deal with later. 

Harry padded back to crouch in front of Rick and then slowly reached out to help him out of his shirt. Rick stared at him and just sat there, letting Harry move his arms up to get his shirt off. Harry threw the shirt over towards the corner and then curled an arm about Rick’s waist, helping him stand. He left an arm around Rick’s waist and helped him remove his pants and shoes, leaving him naked. 

Rick stood there, eyes still wide and unblinking. Harry coaxed him over to the shower, tested the water, and led him under the water spray. Rick startled and then relaxed, letting out a deep sigh. Harry cradled him from behind, letting him lean his weight on him.

“Just relax. I’ve got you,” Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around Rick. 

The water flowed over both of them, washing the blood, dirt and sweat from their bodies. It felt absolutely wonderful and Harry would never take showers for granted again. Harry slowly moved his hand up, tipping Rick’s head up to lean on his shoulder so that the water could get the skin on Rick’s throat and chest easier. Rick let out another low whimper, this time definitely of pleasure, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood.

Harry’s cock stirred with interest and he shook his head, willing it back down. This so wasn’t the time for a handjob or for sex in general. Though perhaps later. He summoned the shampoo bottle and squirted some out into his palm before rubbing into Rick’s scalp, hearing the man whine. Rick arched into his fingers and Harry smiled, sighing as he ran his fingers through Rick’s hair, getting out bits of blood and dirt.

He washed the shampoo out, placing his palm over Rick’s eyes to cover them, and stroked his back.

He took one of the smaller towels and washed Rick’s skin, going from top to bottom, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. Rick let out a low moan and Harry peeked around his body, seeing the man’s cock harden. 

“Rick? You back with me?”

Harry .”

Harry blinked and then moved one of his arms, keeping one around Rick’s waist, and moving his other down, tracing his cock. Rick jolted back into him, bucked into his fingers as Harry stroked his cock. He circled his fingers, speeding his movements up, twisting in just the way he knew that Rick liked. The man arched his back, leaning more of his weight onto him and Harry idly pressed a kiss to Rick’s shoulder, stroking faster until Rick shuddered and groaned, his release echoing through him.

Harry.”

“I’m here, Rick,” Harry murmured, holding him still for a moment before withdrawing his hand. The shower washed away the evidence of Rick’s release easily. “I’m here.”

Rick let out a strangled cry and Harry reached behind him to turn off the water. He summoned a larger towel and wrapped it around the man in front of him, holding him as he slipped around to face him. Rick’s eyes were red, still bloodshot, but he was finally crying. At least a little. Tears pooled in Rick’s eyes and fell slowly.

Harry pulled him into another hug, stroking his back firmly. He stayed quiet, feeling Rick’s hiccuping breaths as the man leaned into him. 

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” Harry whispered as he heard Rick’s breathing slow. “You’ve had the weight of the world on your shoulders ever since I joined your group, perhaps even earlier. You want to take a break?”

“I… What about…”

“I’ll take over for a while,” Harry offered quietly, shaking his head. “You need to get some real sleep first. Your baby girl’s fine and so is Carl.”

“...Lori had a girl?”

“Yeah. She’s cute but a little squishy.”

Rick let out a snort at Harry’s words but didn’t say anything.

“Come on. To bed with you,” Harry said, drawing over another two towels and transfiguring them into comfortable clothes. He looked Rick over, rubbing him dry before helping him draw on the clothes. He pulled on some transfigured, clean clothes too, made sure the water wasn't leaking and called over to Prongs.

Rick stared at him for a minute before nodding and letting him lead. Harry met his eyes and then led the way up and back to their cell block, leading the man to where Harry had made his room. He had transfigured the two bunk beds into one bed, one comfortable mattress and helped Rick to lay down. 

Harry slipped the covers over Rick and then turned to reach into his pack, looking around for a certain vial and finding it. It was the last one he had of it right now but he figured… Rick would probably need it.

Rick blinked up at him, yawned and melted into the mattress, curling his fingers into the blanket. 

“You trust me, right?”

“I trust you,” Rick replied, dipping his head in a nod. “What is it?”

“You haven’t really slept… in a long time,” Harry said, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. He held up the vial and uncorked it, holding the stopper in his other hand. “This is a dreamless sleep draught. Three sips of this would guarantee 8 hours of dreamless sleep. It’s the wizarding equivalent of a sleep aid.”

“I don’t want to be left…”

“I’ll wake you up if we need you,” Harry answered, reaching out to curl his fingers around Rick’s visible hand. “I’ve heard you over the past few days. You… have nightmares.”

Rick flinched and started to turn only for Harry to move his fingers up to squeeze his shoulder. 

“I’m not blaming you. We all have them right now,” Harry said, his eyes narrowing. “It’s also not your fault. None of this is your fault, alright? Don’t you dare blame yourself.”

Rick sighed and didn’t meet his eyes.

“Regardless of what you think,” Harry started, moving his hand back to Rick’s fingers. “I would recommend this. Please.

“Alright.”

It was almost a whisper but Rick reached out his hand and Harry handed over the vial, keeping his hand on Rick’s arm. Rick met his eyes and then took exactly three sips of the draught and handed it back, his nose wrinkling at the taste. Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin as he tucked the vial back into his pack.

Rick melted further into the mattress as his eyes drooped closed. Harry traced his hand up to Rick’s hair, carding his fingers through the man’s hair and watched as Rick fell asleep. His breathing evened out further and his body slumped into the mattress. Rick was clean, safe, and relaxed and a minute later, asleep.

“Sleep well, Rick,” Harry whispered, pressing another kiss to the man’s forehead. “I love you.”

Harry sighed and stood up, glancing over to where Prongs was guarding the doorway. “Guard him well.”

Prongs dipped his head, its antlers bowing deeply, and whinnied eerily. Harry smiled a little and walked out, heading over to check on Carl and the baby.

 

Chapter Text

“I don’t want to die. There’s shit I want to do. I just want to be fucked by my boyfriend one more time before I die, you know?” Arthur continued, shrugging and gesturing to Harry.

Barry stared at Arthur, his cheeks pinking up. “Uhhh…”

Diana grinned as she looked at her teammates, watching as Arthur spoke.

“I just feel like I never really embraced the land or sea.”

“You’ve embraced me loads of times,” Harry remarked, grinning bemusedly. 

“Yeah. We’re young, you know? You just appeared in my life last year and stayed. Like that parasite fish.”

“Hey! Wait a minute,” Harry retorted, his eyes widening. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

Barry looked between the two guys and looked to Diana, who was grinning. Bruce looked like he had no idea what was going on other than maybe they shouldn’t be hearing this kind of private conversation.

“I just mean… My point is you stayed. And besides my dad, everyone else has left. There’s so much more we can do. Been a loner my whole life before you, before this. Being a part of something bigger like this… Maybe I’m scared because I’m meant to…”

Arthur stopped as he watched Bruce gesture to his feet and raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his own feet. His eyes widened as he saw the glow of Diana’s lasso and ripped it off his ankle, huffing out a sigh at the sight. He brought it up to eye level, watched as it continued to glow and then threw it back to her.

Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile even as he elbowed Arthur. 

Arthur glared at Diana, who shrugged.

“I thought that was beautiful,” Diana offered, her grin widening.

Arthur sighed and turned to go, sparing a glance to Harry, his bright green, fond, eyes.

“Hey, if I’m supposed to be this… guardian of the seas… it really does kind of mean looking after you too,” Harry remarked, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug, his smile wide. “But you know… the sex does help.”

Arthur elbowed Harry back, muttering under his breath about wizards and fucking guardian of the sea bullshit.

“I totally wouldn’t have said anything without the lasso, you know.”

“Right… Just keep telling yourself that..”

Arthur sighed and walked to the back of the jet plane, stopping in front of Barry. The younger man looked at him with wide eyes.

“Say anything and you’ll meet every piranha I know,” Arthur muttered, before walking off.

Barry paled and turned to look at Harry, watched as the man rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know any piranha, Barry. I don’t know if even he knows more than like... three. Those are creepy fish, you know.”

Barry yelped, his voice going high pitched as he spoke. “THREE!!!! Three! I don’t want to know! I honestly didn’t hear anything after ‘we’re all going to die’!”

Harry snorted and idly walked to the back of the plane to rejoin Arthur.

“No sexy times back there!” Victor called out, his flesh eye narrowed in thought. “We don’t have time!”

Silence filled the plane and then they all heard grumbling coming from where Harry and Arthur were.

 


 

“On me,” Diana whispered and they all heard it, even over the sirens that the Batmobile was sounding. She had a tight grip on her sword, her lasso in her other hand as she dove forward into the mass of bugs.

Harry exchanged looks with Arthur, nodded to him and then jumped up into the air, shifting shape between one minute and the next. He had been born with two souls… one a human soul and the other… His bones shifted and elongated and his arms shifted and his song filled the air as he changed from human to… something else. 

The light of the sun hit his thick hide and warmed him up even as the other power within him heated him.

He heard distant gasps from Barry and Victor and then flew off, following Arthur overhead. He flew into an air current, dipping his wings inward right to a group of bugs and opened his mouth, drawing on the hidden power within his other body and shot it right at the parademons. They screamed and exploded on impact and he flew on, shooting forward to catch Arthur as he fell from Victor’s hold.

Arthur grinned when he saw him and held on tight to the blue spikes on his back. “You do make for a beautiful parasite fish.”

Harry grumbled lowly and bucked him off, flipping his tail up and dropping. Arthur yelped and summoned water with his trident as he fell towards the ground. Water from an underground pipe broke through the cement and raced up to meet Arthur and carried him safely back to the ground. 




 

Once Superman entered the fray, Steppenwolf was doomed. Harry hovered in the air as they all watched as their opponent was carried back up to his ship or whatever it was, beating his wings smoothly.

“You look like a dragon but not like a dragon…” Barry trailed off as Harry blinked a golden eye at him, the other soul within him humming with power. 

“I am a guardian of the seas, young one. I am young and old at the same time, as I share this body with the wizard Harry Potter.”

Barry froze as he looked up at the creature that floated above them, watched as it stayed in the air gracefully. There were no panicked movements to the animal or creature, no unneeded action that kept it in the air. The creature was all white, with blue spikes on its back and amber eyes that looked very intelligent. “Did you guys just hear that?”

“That’s my boyfriend,” Arthur remarked, his smile wide and his eyes bright. 

“Uh… yeah… I figured that. How… What is he?”

I was called Lugia in a different life.”

Barry blinked and watched as the creature slowly lowered to the ground and shrunk, slowly reforming back to two legs. Harry reappeared after a minute, breathing a little heavily but appearing fine. His skin had a slight glow to it as if something was lit up inside him, perhaps the same kind of power that they all saw him shoot at the parademons. 

“We share a body,” Harry offered, shrugging and walking over to Arthur’s side. “Lugia and I. It’s a little complicated but I’m both a wizard and… kind of like a demigod? I don’t know… Lugia was rather legendary in its world and in dying… It found me for a new body.” 

“Sounds creepy,” Barry said, his eyes widening at the explanation.

Harry shook his head, flicking to Arthur before looking back at him. “No. It wasn’t… We were born together. I’m used to it.”

“And then there was the whole Voldemort thing too. That kind of… put a damper on it.” Arthur watched as Clark turned towards them, the man obviously listening in.

“Voldemort?” Victor echoed.

“Yeah. I’m a wizard… in addition to this,” Harry said, gesturing to himself. “That was a whole other can of worms. Lugia didn’t much like having a third soul attached to our body.”




 

As soon as they got home, Arthur tugged him aside to their bedroom and Harry grinned, watching as Arthur stripped his shirt off. Harry followed suit and shucked off his shirt, glad that he had mastered the spell that kept his clothes dry in the water when he swam, and leaned into Arthur, pressing his lips to the man’s.

Arthur groaned at the touch and Harry curled an arm around his shoulders to draw him in closer, threading his fingers through Arthur’s hair. 

“You know… you really are beautiful in your other skin,” Arthur remarked as Harry pushed him up against the closest wall. Harry trailed kisses down his chin and throat and Arthur moaned, his cock hardening and his heart racing at the warm touch. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Arthur…”

“I’m a half blood.”

“I’m a half blood too. Lily was a muggle born and James was a pureblood. I don’t care,” Harry retorted, sucking a kiss onto the base of Arthur’s throat. He grinned as the man whined, bucking into him. “Atlantis and the wizarding world can fuck off.”

“Who said anything about Atlantis? I don’t give a shit about it,” Arthur muttered, curling his arms around Harry’s shoulders to try for more friction.

Harry grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Who did you encounter when you went to go get the mother box from Atlantis?”

“A woman and some guards. Steppenwolf wiped most of the guards out except for the woman before I got there,” Arthur replied, his eyes widening in arousal as Harry reached in to rub circles into his skin, moving up and trailing his tongue over his skin. Harry groaned as Arthur yanked him up and into a kiss, wet and hot, heat building in his body. Sparks of pleasure fluttered throughout him even as Harry slipped a leg between his thighs for friction and their cocks touched, sending shudders through them both. “Course she seemed a little pissed off that I was there. Said something about responsibility.”

“Her loss,” Harry whispered, nipping a kiss into Arthur’s skin, right on the crook of his neck.

Arthur whined even as Harry rolled his hips. They both let out a gasp and Arthur moaned, feeling Harry lave his skin, before reaching down a hand. His cock nearly ached with the need to be touched, the battle having sent adrenaline coursing through him. “ Harry.”

He shuddered as he felt Harry’s warm fingers trail over his skin, nails leaving goosebumps in their wake, and slipped down under his waistband. Arthur bucked into Harry’s hand, his heart racing and sweat dribbling down his back. 

“It was hot watching you pin Bruce to that wall, I’ve gotta say,” Harry muttered, pressing his mouth to Arthur’s.

“Man’s human is all I can...” Arthur retorted, shrugging, his voice trailing off on a whine as Harry’s fingers finally wrapped around his cock. “ Fuck.”

He arched into the fingers wrapped around him, leaning into Harry, as the man stroked him. Pleasure spiraled through him as Harry met and caught his eyes, holding his gaze as he twisted his fingers and nipped a biting kiss into his neck, sending his nerves alight with fire. He yelled out as he shuddered with release, pleasure and warmth rocketing through him. 

He heard an extended groan even as his eyes fluttered closed, Harry’s arms holding him up.




 

Arthur stared at the oncoming wave even as his dad’s eyes widened. The darkness of the night didn’t help matters even as the tips of the wavepoints shimmered in the moonlight. He stomped on the gas pedal of their truck and the truck charged ahead, groaning at the new speed. Harry poked his head into the front seat, his eyes glowing silver.

“Who the fuck has this kind of power?” Harry muttered heatedly, his voice hard and yet inhuman sounding too. His voice echoed in the small cab, deep and powerful, a hint of the ancient, legendary creature that Harry shared a body with. “And yes, Lugia’s pissed.”

“I would be too,” Tom whispered, his voice shaky as the giant wave picked up a cruise ship and carried it to the more northern shore. They could even see a Navy battleship on top of the wave several miles south of their location, birds scattering all around them.

Go!” Harry exclaimed, reaching over to put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

He did not need to the encouragement even as the truck sputtered and charged on but even that… The wave was faster and collided with the truck even as Harry’s hand withdrew and a glow filled the cab of the truck. Arthur heard Harry jump out through the back window, breaking glass as he did, and instantly change, Lugia’s soul coming to the fore.

The glow that surrounded Lugia lit up the road and wave, the guardian of the seas hovering protectively above them and opened his mouth. A creature with a 55 foot wingspan. Arthur remembered seeing Harry and Lugia change for the first time, remembered being awestruck. Song filled the air, echoing off the hills behind them and this section of the wave froze in the air, held in check by Lugia and Harry’s sheer force of will.

Arthur stopped the car slowly, put it in park and got out to watch.

Lugia sang louder and beat his wings idly, flew forwards a little and the wave moved. Arthur watched in awe, his heart racing within his chest, hearing his dad’s mouth open and close. The woman who he had seen earlier yesterday jumped through the water even as this section of the wave collapsed back into the water.

The Atlantean woman stared right up at Lugia and Harry, her blue eyes wide and her red hair wild.

When the danger passed, Lugia and Harry turned around in the air, his silver eyes on the other parts of the coast that weren’t so lucky. Disaster sirens filled air to the north and south and Arthur could smell the overwhelming scent of salt water in places where it shouldn’t be.

“Who did this?” Arthur yelled over, facing the woman who was still watching his boyfriend.

“This is Orm’s doing,” the woman replied, raising her voice as Lugia and Harry wheeled about and came back to land, slowly, gently falling to earth. 

Arthur grimaced at hearing her words, remembering Vulko telling him of how his mother had born a second son to King Orvax. He watched as his boyfriend came to land on the ground, Changing back slowly in comparison to other times. Perhaps it was the stress that he had Changed under. 

“You alright?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry stood in front of him, his eyes still glowing silver, but dipped his head in a nod. “Orm’s doing, huh?”

“Yes. I need your help to stop him, Arthur.”

Arthur blinked at her and looked at Harry, who shrugged.

It’s your call, Arthur. The seas are rough and that took a lot of energy out of me.

“What’s your name?” Arthur questioned, peering at the woman again. “I never asked.”

“I’m Princess Y’Mera Xebella Challa but you can call me Mera. Who is your friend?”

“I’m Harry. Just Harry.”

Mera looked at him, her eyes narrowed. 

“I’m Arthur’s boyfriend,” Harry added, gesturing to Arthur. 

“You are not human.”

“Uh… Yeah, I am. Last I checked.”

“You’re a wizard.”

“Yep. I should probably check on my friends though. That wave… it happened all over the world.”

Mera stared at him, blinking once then twice. “I… am confused.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a smile and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Alright. We are stopping this war then,” Arthur muttered. “That’s it.”

Mera nodded, tilting her head to look at Harry as if a different angle would help. Harry blinked and looked at her before nodding to Arthur.

“Sounds good to me.”

 

Chapter Text

“Harry! Thank goodness you’re here!”

“What? Is something wrong?” 

Bilbo tugged Harry over to the door, marveling over being able to pull Harry anywhere when the man was a dwarf and weighed a lot more than any hobbit did. “See here! Gandalf came and left a mark! A mark! On our door!”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his bead clinking in his long, black hair. Bilbo looked at him, watched as Harry traced the rune with a finger. The only time that Bilbo had asked Harry what the bead meant, the dwarf had gone quiet and said that it was from a lover in Erebor. A lover who he knew had died when the dragon had arrived. Bilbo hadn’t spoken of the bead again.

“There’s magic in this rune,” Harry murmured, rubbing a soot covered finger over his brow. His sword was at his back and the clothes that he had left this morning in were soot stained, courtesy of working the only forge in the Shire.  “Otherwise, it means burglar. Did you rob another hobbit’s hole while I was gone today?”

Bilbo spluttered. “Who do you take me for? I am not a thief!”

Harry laughed quietly, tipped Bilbo’s chin up and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I never thought you were, Bilbo. What did Gandalf want, other than to place a rune?”

Bilbo glared at him. Harry smiled softly.

“So it is a dwarven rune.”

“It is.”

“Gandalf said something about an adventure.”

“An adventure, hmm? Didn’t your mother go on an adventure?” Harry asked, as Bilbo opened the door in front of them.

“Belladonna Took went on many adventures,” Bilbo muttered, wrinkling his nose. “I am not going on adventures. This is my home.”

“You are half Took, you know? Besides, I would accompany you,” Harry offered, peeling off his sword and leaving it by the door. Bilbo had always insisted on that. No weapons were to be taken farther into the hobbit hole. Wands were a whole different story, being as they were small and very rarely, dirty.

“You’re used to going on adventures,” Bilbo retorted, going over to check on dinner. The fish that he had bought this afternoon was fresh and cooking, almost ready. “Being reborn and all that. Bit of nasty business I say.”

Harry snorted,. “It gave me you.”

Bilbo felt his cheeks redden and Harry winked at him before walking further into their hobbit hole. Harry had his own room of course, one that had been spelled into existence along with a few other certain special rooms but he usually spent the night with Bilbo.

Bilbo sighed and walked into the kitchen, putting the two fish he had bought this morning on the stove. The smell of cooking fish and potatoes soon filled the air as darkness swept through the Shire, the sounds of hobbits going back to their homes after a day’s work or leisure.

Harry ventured back into the kitchen after cleaning, his face clean of dirt or soot. He still smelled faintly of the smithy he operated but that was under the smell of freshly cleaned dwarf and magic. It was a faint scent of a storm that always made Bilbo relax, knowing that Harry wasn’t too far off. 

“Dinner’s on,” Bilbo called out, as he slipped the three fish onto separate plates, one fish for him and two for Harry. He yelped out as arms came around him and a chin made itself at home on his shoulder. 

“Smells good,” Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to his throat. “Thanks.”

Bilbo shuddered, his heart jolting in his chest, and turned around in Harry’s arms to glare at him. He hadn’t even heard him come into the kitchen, let alone up to his back.

“You are miserable in the kitchen,” Bilbo muttered, shrugging as he caught Harry’s eyes. He noticed the heat in them and ignored it, feeling the butterflies in his chest flutter.

“I would take offense but aye, you know me.”

Bilbo nodded and Harry backed up, helping him to set the table and put the plates out. 

“No fauntling around here gets treated that horribly,” Bilbo argued, crossing his arms as they set down to dinner. “We all make sure of that.”

Harry grinned lightly and cut into his fish, letting out a deep sigh at the taste. He had two different braids in his hair this evening, both framing his face. His green eyes were lit with contentment even as his thoughts went to his past and then turned back to the present at the knock on the door.

Bilbo blinked at the noise and he met Harry’s eyes.

“Are we expecting someone?” Harry questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Bilbo saw his wand slip itself into his hand and then shook his head. “I don’t think so. That wizard isn’t in the Shire anymore. I asked around.”

Harry snorted. “I can’t feel any other magic around here or at least magic that’s not my own. Moony and Padfoot are out hunting so that’s… You want me to answer it?”

“No! It would be rude to not answer the door,” Bilbo argued, his eyes narrowing before he sighed. “I am the owner of this smial anyway.”

Harry smiled lightly and nodded. “Call if it’s Lobelia. I can get rid of her.”

Bilbo’s lips twitched up as he remembered a few of Harry’s ways to get rid of the noisy woman. “I don’t think she ever rightly recovered from that scare, Harry.”

“She stole from you!”

“I wasn’t disagreeing with you,” Bilbo whispered, grinning a little, before getting up, smoothing a hand down his robe and walking to the door. “She needs to learn that she shan’t be getting this Bag End.”

Bilbo’s smile lasted until he opened his door and discovered another dwarf on the doorstep. The man on the other side of the door was definitely not familiar to him, all gruff, bald and intimidating. Not in the way that Harry was quietly intimidating when the situation called for it, but physically. Bilbo didn’t want to meet this dwarf in a back alley in Bree, that’s what he meant.

“Can I help you?” Bilbo questioned faintly.

“Dwalin, at your service.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, still not recognizing the dwarf or his name.

“He said there would be food.”

Dwalin stepped in and walked past him with a loud few thumps, his boots getting dirt on the floor and his weapons jingling. Bilbo let out a quiet noise of surprise, closed the door and raced after the unfamiliar dwarf.

“Excuse me, I don’t think we’ve met,” Bilbo said, taking care to not raise his voice.

“We haven’t,” Dwalin remarked, looking at him strangely. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The food.”

“Oh, uh… this way,” Bilbo said even as he wondered what was going on. Had Harry met another dwarf? But if that was the case, he would have told Bilbo about it and certainly would have told him if he had invited the dwarf home for dinner. He was too busy wondering what was going on not to notice that he bumped into Dwalin.

He stumbled directly into the sturdy wall of dwarf, yelping and rubbing his scalp even as he peered around at Harry. His friend who had gone quiet and pale, his green eyes wide, a fork halfway to his mouth.

“Dwalin?” Harry echoed, his voice faint and so much emotion in it. Bilbo’s heart stopped at seeing Harry like this, memories flashing in his mind of how he had met the dwarf.

“Harry?”

Harry stood up, causing his chair to scrape against the floor. Bilbo winced at the sight and watched as Harry took a step around the table and walked over to stop in front of Dwalin, his mouth opening and closing.

“You’re alive,” Harry whispered, his eyes moving to the door and then back to Dwalin. “How are you here?”

“You’re alive,” Dwalin muttered, his eyes widening too. “We all thought you were dead.”

Bilbo looked between the two dwarves, his eyes widening as they continued to stare at each other. Harry was the one to close the distance to Dwalin and hit his skull against Dwalin’s and Bilbo winced at the sight.

“I’m alive,” Harry remarked, after pulling away and looking Dwalin over. He turned to Bilbo, his green eyes narrowing in thought. “ We?”

“Balin and I. Thorin too. He was right-”

“Thorin?” Harry repeated, his skin losing color and his eyes widening again. He looked like he had just been hit in the gut, like he had taken a wound, an invisible one. Bilbo looked at Harry and then at Dwalin, digging his hands into his pockets. “Thorin’s… alive?”

“Aye, he is.”

Harry let out a strangled noise. “Thorin’s alive.”

Dwalin nodded and turned to look at the table, sniffed the air before smiling appreciatively. “Dinner.”

“Dwalin… What’s going on here?” Harry finally asked, color coming back to his face as Dwalin moved to sit down at the table. “Why are you here? How… how you are alive? How is Thorin alive? And where have you been all this time?”

“We’ve been in the Blue Hills,” Dwalin remarked, digging into Harry’s plate of fish. Bilbo breathed out a sigh of relief that it wasn’t his plate and caught Harry’s eyes. 

“Harry?”

“Bilbo…” Harry trailed off, shaking his head in what looked like disbelief. His left hand had gone to the bead in his hair, rubbing it slightly. “Thorin… is the dwarf I believed dead.”

Bilbo blinked and stared at him, his heart feeling like it was jumping into his throat. “What’s going on here?”

“Aye, that’s what I want to know too,” Dwalin offered, looking between them. “How’d you end up in the Shire?”

“Uh… it’s a long story,” Harry answered, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Dwalin… You can’t be the only dwarf coming here.”

Dwalin grinned and shook his head.

“Where one dwarf comes, there are probably more on the way,” Harry muttered, walking over to Bilbo’s side and tugging him into their sitting room. Bilbo sat down on his chair and stared at Harry, as the dwarf pulled his chair over to face him.

“Dwalin… is one of the dwarves I knew… before Smaug came,” Harry started, his eyes narrowed. “He was friends with the Prince and introduced me.”

“What did you mean when you said that there are other dwarves on the way? And what does your bead mean?”

“Gandalf’s coming this morning and Dwalin’s arrival--”

Another knock on the door interrupted Harry’s explanation and Bilbo’s eyes narrowed. Harry sighed, reaching out to entwine their fingers. “We’d best get ready for more dwarves, Bilbo.”

“But I don’t want more dwarves here. I’m fine with just you.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a slight grin as he stood up. Bilbo stood up too, on shaky legs, and Harry reached out for him, tugging him into a heady kiss, warm and wet and reassuring and Bilbo whined, arching into him. Harry pulled away, mischief in his eyes, and Bilbo groaned even as he went to open the door again.

“Balin!”

“Harry! Dwalin!”

“I thought you were dead!”

“I’m not?”

Balin shook his head, smiling widely as he studied the dwarf he had become friends with. Harry grinned back and embraced him.




 

“Fili, at your service.”

“Kili. You must be Mr Boggins.”

Harry stared at the two young dwarves on the doorstep, took in their appearances and the bow and quiver of arrows on Kili’s shoulder. Fili… looked familiar in the way that…

“No, no, it’s Mr Baggins,” Bilbo said, wariness in his voice and more than a little befuddlement. 

“You’re Dis’ boys, aren’t you?” Harry questioned quietly, his eyes narrowed.

Kili and Fili both went quiet at his words and they both studied the older dwarf intently.

“You know our mother?” Fili asked, crossing his arms.

“I know her, aye. What about Vili?”

Kili paled and Fili slowly shook his head.

“He died.”

Harry sucked in a sharp breath before sighing. “I am sorry. Vili was the best archer that I had known. Is your uncle… Is he coming?”

“Of course he is! He’s the one who called for us!” Kili exclaimed, stepping into the hobbit hole. “We’re taking back Erebor!”

Harry blinked, his heart skipping a beat at the words, idly watching as both Kili and Fili walked past him. They handed their weapons to Bilbo, who had gone paler than he had.

“Bilbo, here, let me take the weapons,” Harry murmured, already reaching out for Kili’s bow, quiver, and Fili’s weapons. Fili had certainly taken out several knives, more than he had ever seen on a dwarf before. He looked down at the weapons in his arms and threw them up in the air, drawing on some magic and sent them to where he kept his own weapons, down the hall and to the small room to the right.

“Thanks. Harry, what’s going on? They’re already going through the pantry and… and…”

“I’ll make sure they won’t take anything,” Harry whispered, shuddering even as he replayed Dwalin and Kili’s words in his mind. Thorin was alive. Prince Thorin was alive and now likely… Likely Thorin was king now. King of no mountain. “And we’ll refill the pantry tomorrow. Next winter will be fine, Bilbo.”

Bilbo nodded as Harry cupped his cheek, smoothing his thumb over his mouth. 

“You loved… this Thorin, didn’t you?”

“Aye. I did. But I love you too,” Harry remarked quietly, seeing Bilbo swallow. “I think Gandalf’s adventure was… I think they’re planning on traveling back to Erebor.”

Bilbo inhaled sharply and leaned into Harry’s fingers. “But you said…”

“I know. I miss Erebor though,” Harry said, hearing even more dwarves walk into the footpath of Bag End. “I miss its halls and its secret passage ways and… I didn’t even know that Dwalin, let alone Thorin, were still alive.”

“Does he have one of your beads?” Bilbo asked curiously.

“He does. I don’t know…”

“If you’re still wearing yours then I think he’s probably still wearing his.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and took in Bilbo’s expression, seeing his steady eyes. 

“You think? He was a prince before and now… he’s probably a king. King’s… usually need heirs,” Harry muttered. “Though… Fili and Kili…”

“You know their father and mother?”

“Aye. I did. Dis. She’s Thorin’s sister. Not someone to be trifled with. She could give Lobelia a run for her money.”

Bilbo snorted and then another knock filled the air and he shrugged. Bilbo walked over to open the door, muttering about dwarves. 

“I’m a dwarf,” Harry whispered, even as six dwarves fell into their hobbit hole. Gandalf the Grey stood behind them as he bent down to look at them both.

“Yes, you’re a dwarf. You’re a tall dwarf is what you are,” Bilbo retorted.

Harry paled and clutched his chest like he was in pain. “Oh, I’m wounded! Tall!”

Bilbo’s lips twitched up into a smile even as he stared in bemusement at the assortment of strange dwarves. One even had an axe in his head. One was as fat as he had seen.

“Another dwarf?” Gandalf questioned, his eyes narrowing as he met Harry’s eyes.

Harry raised an eyebrow even as he felt the foreign magic flow around the other man. Gandalf was tall, towering over him, and Harry continued to stare at the man, knowing him for a wizard, a potentially dangerous one at that. 

“What’s your name?” Gandalf asked, as the rest of the dwarves filed in, following their noses to the kitchen and the dining table. It sounded like they were already setting up places for… several more dwarves. Perhaps around 12. Harry watched as the dwarves padded through the hallways of Bag End, with Bilbo occasionally pacing behind them.

Thorin was not amongst them and Harry’s heart continued to stutter and race at the mere mention of Thorin. The howl of Moony filled the air and then a loud growl followed it. 

Bilbo shrugged it off as he looked at Harry, who shook his head.

“Are there wolves in the Shire?” One of the dwarves asked, looking around for his axe.

Dwalin caught Harry’s eyes, raising an eyebrow.

“No. They’re… They’re friendly to our friends,” Harry finally answered. 

“That’s not an answer,” Kili exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“It’s the one you’re going to get,” Harry said, grinning a little. “Their den is in the little yard over there.”

“Den?” Gandalf repeated.

“Aye. Den.”

“They protect the Shire,” Bilbo added, crossing his arms and glaring at the wizard. “You’re the one who brought all these dwarves to my home.”

“You need an adventure, dear Bilbo. And what better way to do it then in the company of dwarves?”

Bilbo spluttered and gestured to Harry. “I already have a dwarf!”

Harry grinned.

 


 

Harry sat in his chair, idly listening to the fire crackling in the fireplace and to the rowdy sounds of the dwarves singing. Bilbo flinched at a particularly loud word, his eyes wide, as he watched the rest of the dwarves clean up.

“They’re throwing the plates,” Bilbo muttered, grimacing. “Throwing them! You’ve never done that!”

“Well… I washed them with magic…” Harry offered, grinning a little at Bilbo’s worry. “If anything breaks, I can repair it, Bilbo.”

Bilbo turned to look at him and then sighed, standing up and hurrying over to watch. Harry stood up and followed too, watching as the 12 dwarves all cleaned up together, loud and boisterous. 

Gandalf was just humming along quietly, smiling at everyone’s antics. 

The loud but solemn knocking drew everyone’s attention and the dwarves went silent. Harry froze, turned towards the entry hall and followed Gandalf. Bilbo fell into step with him, looking at him in worry.

Gandalf opened the door and Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sight that met him. Thorin stood on the other side of the door, a blue cloak covering his broad shoulders and a braid or two in his hair and… Harry’s bead in his hair.




 

Thorin waited on the doorstep, lifted his hand to knock again only for it to open. Gandalf stood in front of him and… He let out a strangled noise at the sight that met him, at seeing…

“Harry?”

“Thorin. It really is you,” Harry whispered out, his arms by his sides, and his hair askew like it always was. Thorin gasped and his knees shook even as he stepped inside, his fingers turning inwards to form fists. 

“I… I thought you were dead,” Thorin murmured even as Harry yanked him right into a hug. He let out a raw noise and melted into the other dwarf’s arms, feeling Harry’s lips on his forehead. “I… How can this be?”

Thorin.

He closed his eyes, memories flashing back through his mind of the last time he had seen Harry before Smaug had come to the mountain. Before his life had upended itself. 

An arm curled around his neck and brought him closer as Harry leaned his forehead against his. “I’m alive.”

“What happened?”

“Long story. What happened to you? And to your father and grandfather?”

Thorin groaned, his heart racing within his chest, even as he moved, tilting his head up to meet Harry’s lips in a kiss. Harry let out a noise and kissed him, his hand curling around his neck like an anchor. Thorin sighed into the kiss even as Harry licked his way into his mouth, his every nerve alight with touch.

The low growls behind him jolted him into action as he pulled away, his hand going to his axe. He turned around only to see two big wargs behind him, ugly looking creatures looking at him. They were big, bigger than any warg he had ever seen. One was as white as the moon and the other grey-silver, with specks of black in its coat.

They both looked at him with gold eyes and he tightened his hand on his axe.

“Thorin, it’s alright. They’re friendly,” Harry whispered, reaching out to place his hand on his. “Stay your blade. Moony, Padfoot, he’s safe. Go bed down.”

The white warg growled again before its eyes narrowed, turning around to trot over to the side yard. Thorin stared as the grey one followed and then turned to Harry, raising an eyebrow.

“They were injured,” Harry retorted, shrugging. His eyes were soft and Thorin felt like he had come home, felt like a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“You are still taking in orphaned animals then.”

Harry’s lips twitched up into a small grin as he nodded. “Aye, I am. I didn’t care that they were wargs. Thorin.”

His heart skipped a beat at the heat in Harry’s voice. 

“You are King now, aren’t you?” Harry questioned, stepping back so that Thorin could step into the home.

“I am. King of the Blue Hills,” Thorin murmured, seeing Balin and Dwalin stand in the corner. Fili and Kili stood in the other corner, looking between him and Harry with wide eyes. He had told them a little of Harry but… less than he had told Dis. His sister had known Harry and had grieved when they couldn’t find him and then later presumed him dead. 

Harry looked at him and reached out to entwine their fingers, his eyes narrowing. “You’re going to retake Erebor, aren’t you?”

“Oin read something in a scroll. Smaug hasn’t been seen in years.”

Harry nodded idly, meeting his eyes. “Thorin… the burglar that Gandalf wanted you to meet…”

“I’m not a burglar!” 

Thorin turned to look at the smaller hobbit, taking in his light brown hair that was all curls. 

“Bilbo Baggins… meet Thorin, the rightful King of Erebor,” Harry offered, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “Thorin… meet Bilbo Baggins.”

Chapter Text

“Stephen, what’s wrong?”

“Wong, I’m okay. Nothing’s… wrong.”

Wong raised an eyebrow, glancing behind him at the men and women behind him. “Stephen, you came back from that portal sweating.”

“I’m fine!”

Wong heard Stephen curse under his breath through the door, magic roiling and sliding through the door.

“You don’t sound fine!”

“I’m a doctor! I know when I’m not fine and I’m fine!”

Wong rolled his eyes at Stephen’s words, hearing the thin desperation in his tone. “I’m coming in, Stephen!”

“No, you are not!”

Wong sighed and drew a rune in the air before feeling the air bubble cover him from head to toe, just in case whatever Stephen had was contagious. The yelp from behind the door made him try the door only to find it locked and… barred with magic. Shadows filled the hallway behind him and he turned, his eyes widening at the sight.

“He is mine.”

A cloaked man stood alone in the center of the hallway, covered in shadows and magic. Wong shivered as a slight chill wound around the hall and watched as the man walked towards him.

Wong could not see a single identifying trait or facial feature as the cloak hid the person, whoever he was. Though the man was wearing a dark green shirt and jeans and Wong was definitely sure that the man was a sorcerer. He just wasn’t sure who or what the man was. To have come through the sanctum’s wards so easily... 

Wong raised his hands up, about to conjure a magical weapon when the figure shook his head. 

Do not worry for him. I care for my own and he is that.”

The figure slowly trailed through the hallway, his cloak fluttering over the floor. It wasn’t like Stephen’s cloak but Wong could tell there was a magical quality to it as it shimmered in his vision.

Let me through or I will destroy this sanctum.”

Wong hesitated. “You have the power to do that.”

The figure cackled, in an eerie, high pitched voice, and then swept past him as if he was not entirely walking on the floor but floating above it. 

 


 

Stephen paced in his room, feeling sweat drip down his back, and fall. His heart raced within his chest and he was warm, unusually warm, and… His cock was hard, under his leggings. He had encountered an entity within the realm he had entered but… He hadn’t known…

He groaned at a slight touch, as the material rubbed up against him, hearing the door jostle distantly. “Wong! Don’t you dare come in!”

Wong is still outside.”

Stephen yelped and turned around, almost aching with arousal. Nothing he did had helped either. 

The man in front of him was standing idle, cloaked from head to toe and all Stephen could see of him was the lower half of his face. He was halfway sure it was a man but… he wasn’t too sure… Shadows pooled at the guy’s feet and curled about the man. “Who the hell are you?”

“You are mine. I have come to claim you.”

Stephen spluttered at the words, breathing heavily, as he stared at the guy. “The fuck do you mean? I do not belong to anyone.”

You are mine. You have been mine ever since you died.”

Stephen shivered at the words, dark and solemn and heated. “Who the fuck are you?”

I am Death.”

The man reached up a hand and lowered his hood, revealing glowing green eyes and long black hair. The scar on the man’s forehead drew Stephen’s attention first, looking like branches of lightning forking downward on the man’s skin. The man… or was he Death with a capital D… took a step towards Stephen and Stephen took a step back, extending his arms to conjure a magical weapon.

“Hold on a minute. I do not belong to anybody and I am not…” Stephen trailed off on a groan as the man took another step forwards and pressed his hand to his chest. Stephen shuddered at the touch, feeling it all the way through his body. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Death. The title is self explanatory, Stephen.”

Stephen stared at the man, blinking for a minute and trying to decide if that was the guy’s sense of humor. 

Your activities three months ago were only at my behest, human. You would not have come back if I decided differently.”

“I thought by using the time stone…”

The man… Death… looked at him like he was a child, lowering his hand to trace the stone before his lips twitched up into a small, amused smile. “ You used an infinity stone without much knowledge. You were arrogant enough when you first traveled down the path of a sorcerer. Did you not know enough about Death?”

“Hold on. I wasn’t--”

The man before Stephen reached out to press two fingers against his lips, cupping his chin. Stephen’s heart skipped a beat at the cold touch, at the touch that held just a trace of possessiveness within its fingers.

Death claims those who try to trick it. You are mine.”

Stephen looked into the entity’s eyes, freezing like a deer in headlights. Death stared back, a spark of heated amusement in its’ green eyes, before withdrawing his fingers. Stephen stared at it before the figure vanished only for arms to come around his waist.

Cold echoed through his body even as they were both still clothed. Stephen felt cold breath against his neck, goosebumps rising on his skin, and then Death laid his mouth against his ear, whispering.

You are handsome. Not all of my chosen are besides,” Death murmured, before pressing a kiss to Stephen’s neck. He shuddered at the press of lips to his neck and distantly wondered if his own cloak would try to fight Death’s touch.

“...I… I wasn’t trying to trick you.”

You were trying to trick someone using Death. You should have read the fine print,” Death remarked, before one of his hands trailed down, pressing down and grasped Stephen’s cock.

Stephen jolted at the touch and Death let out a laugh, quiet but eerie, and pressed a biting kiss to his neck once again. Stephen moaned and Death almost purred at the sound, stroking his fingers over Stephen’s waist. 

“There was no fine print!” Stephen croaked out, closing his eyes and trying to restrain himself from bucking up into the hands. 

That’s what they all say,” Death said, amusement in his voice. “ You should see yourself. Sweaty and writhing in my arms. You have not been fucked in the last several months, have you?”

“That’s what they all say??? What… Fuck!” Stephen shouted out as Death rubbed his cock through his pants and then withdrew. “What are we doing?”

I do not know about you but I am about to fuck you.”

Stephen’s eyes widened and his heart beat double time as the weight of his cloak disappeared, as his shirt and jeans vanished. A cold hand pressed against his back, making him shiver with it, and urged him up against the wall. He lightly put his hands against the wall, feeling them tremble and the cold touch of fingers fitting over his froze him. He shuddered as a light, phantom touch trailed over his chest, rubbing over a nipple and flicking it. Pleasure jolted through him, setting his nerves on fire. Ghostly fingers trailed over his chest, rubbing circles into his skin and he moaned, leaning into the fingers.  

Death takes care of its own, Stephen. You encountered something in that realm that left you vulnerable. I am only marking you as mine.”

“We can do it without using sex though…” Stephen trailed off, as Death wrapped itself around him again, bucking into the finger that trailed over his hole. “Surely. There are oaths…”

“Nothing as enjoyable as this though. I saw you try to pleasure yourself before I came. It would not have worked, Dr Strange.”

Stephen shuddered as the wet finger breached him, stroking and curling through him and he yelled.

So responsive. I will enjoy learning your body.”

Stephen moaned as another finger joined the first, stretching him and opening him up. “I… Fuck. Do you… fuck all of your...”

“Perhaps. You are the first sorcerer I have chosen. It rather… reminds me of myself when I was learning. I was much less arrogant than you were though.”

Stephen’s eyes widened even as sweat dripped down his bare back, dripping down his forehead. He gasped as something wet touched his cock, almost mirroring a mouth but… not quite, as it trailed up and stroked. “What… What is this? Fuck. It… fuck!”

I have been around for over five hundred years, human. I know how to pleasure a partner.”

He shuddered as the phantom tongue laved over his cock, sending white hot jolts of pleasure through him. Pre-come leaked from the tip of his cock and he let out a strangled gasp as Death’s fingers left his hole only to feel the tip of a cock. A cold hand pressed against his shoulders and Death slid into him with one try, hitting his prostate easily.

Stephen whimpered and bucked into the hand that was holding him, his cock aching. He felt full, maybe too full, but it felt… It hurt just a little bit though Death had used lubricant but the stretch… He had to close his eyes as pleasure shivered through him, building as Death pulled out and then thrust in again.

Are you close, Stephen? I can feel you under me, straining for me.”

Stephen groaned again as sensations boiled up within him, pleasure overriding all his senses. Death let out another noise, similar to before, one of smug satisfaction and then bit a nipping kiss into the crook of his neck and Stephen cried out, pleasure blinding him and he saw darkness.




 

When he came to, he was on his bed, tucked under the covers. His body still shook with pleasure, trembling with exhaustion. He felt tired out, felt almost like he had gone to the gym and his skin was throbbing at his neck. He reached out to press his fingers to it, rubbing over the rough bite mark.

I did so enjoy seeing you come apart for me, Dr Strange.”

“What. Death doesn’t cuddle?”

Stephen blinked his eyes open and peered towards where the voice was coming from. Death was sitting on the chair in the corner, taking a sip of something from a mug. Steam billowed from the mug as Stephen watched and Death snorted, its lips twitching up into an amused grin.

If you want me to hold you… All you have to do is ask it of me.”

Stephen blinked.

“I shall be off. In the future, Stephen, do try to avoid the creature you saw. That was a spirit of an incubus.”

“What did you mean when you said I remind you of yourself when you were learning?”

Death raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing. “ Mind what you say. We do not know each other that well now.”

“Were you always Death?”

“Dr Strange, my patience with humans is short. Even with you there is a limit.”

Stephen met Death’s eyes and swallowed at the look in them. There was a quiet lethalness to Death’s eyes and perhaps it was tempered but Stephen wasn’t too sure.

“There is something coming, Stephen. Thanos the Destroyer. Warn the Avengers before it is too late. Warn Anthony Stark. This is the only warning you will get.”

 

Chapter Text

“He’s… still alive,” Annabeth murmured, her eyes going wide and her heart speeding at the sight in front of them.

Percy looked at her, his breath heavy as he struggled to relax. Grover stood next to him, still a little jumpy as they surveyed the throne room of the gods. The seats were unoccupied around them, tall and stone and making everyone uneasy. Hestia stood beside them, gazing quietly at Annabeth, Percy and Luke. 

Kronos was gone but Luke… Luke was still alive, a knife wound in his stomach that was slowly bleeding. Luke’s brown hair was askew and sweaty on his head and the scent coming off of him was… not one that Annabeth wanted to smell right now. 

Luke was moaning weakly, his fingers clenching into the stone floor underneath him. The armor that Kronos had put on was still on his body and Luke was trying but failing to unclasp it. Annabeth wrinkled her nose and worked on taking in shallow breaths, looking at Percy with wide eyes.

Percy shook his head in bewilderment and the clatter that tore through the air drew everyone’s attention. Annabeth sucked in a sharp breath, ready to step in front of Luke to protect him from gods and their wrath only to stand down at Harry’s form.

The wizard that had helped in the battle stood in the entryway of the throne room, his eyes narrow. “What did I miss? What happened?”

“Luke…” Percy trailed off, hearing the other young man whimper again and wincing. “He killed Kronos.”

Harry stopped where he was and stared at them both before sucking in a tight breath. He looked beyond the two of them, his eyes widening at the sight. “Luke… is still alive?”

“He is. We don’t… Where are the gods?” Annabeth questioned, glancing down to the knife still by Luke’s side. It was her knife that Luke had used to impale himself with, the cursed knife.

Harry hurried over and knelt by Luke, not sparing them a glance. “They’re coming. Battle’s pretty much done by now. Hush, sweetheart.”

Annabeth watched as Luke peered blearily up at Harry, his blue eyes wide with pain and… arousal. “He’s going into heat, isn’t he? He’s dying though. He can’t… be going into heat right now.”

“He is,” Harry muttered, scrubbing a bloody hand through his hair. “I’ll patch him up but… his heat…”

 




Luke shook his head and tried to hold his arm up but it felt like all his strength had left him, leaving his arm to flop back down to the floor. “I… Don’t…”

The young man kneeling before him placed a hand on Luke’s chest to meet his eyes. “Luke… you’re alright. Let me help? Can you do that for me?”

Heat began to build in his stomach and he could distantly feel slick on his thighs that wasn’t blood and… Power flowed around him, cool and soothing as it dipped into the wound left by Annabeth’s knife and Luke sighed into it even as dark spots appeared in his vision. He could hear thunder booming outside and the last thing he saw was Zeus leading the charge of the gods into their throne room.

 




“You should have let me die.”

Harry blinked and turned to look at where Luke lay. The young man lay on the bed in Harry’s tent, his bright blue eyes narrow. He had only put a light sheet over Luke when he had finished healing him and now… it was backfiring. He could see the sweat and slick that was pooling underneath Luke. Sweat covered his bare arms and legs and the scent of omega slick wafted up from his thighs. Harry kept on breathing through his mouth and got up to sit in the chair he had placed next to the bed. He looked into Luke’s eyes and sighed.

“Luke… you saved the world,” Harry offered quietly, reaching out a hand to cover Luke’s, uncurling his fingers from where they were digging into his side. “I just healed you. Don’t hurt yourself again please.”

He rubbed soothing circles into Luke’s palm and continued to meet his eyes, seeing the signs of heat sickness start to take effect. Luke let out a low groan at the touch and Harry didn’t stop, stroking heated skin and smoothing over scars. Luke seemed to arch into his hand and something within Harry sighed in pleasure, enjoying seeing the touch starved man lean into him.

“I was also why the world needed saving.”

“You also have a few valid points,” Harry argued, rolling his eyes and taking a deep breath only to regret it. Luke smelled good. His heart skipped a beat and he took in a deep breath through his mouth. “The gods should claim their children when they reach a certain age. You know… Percy got Zeus to agree to your request.”

Luke’s eyes widened only to shake his head. “Wonder boy that he is. Why are you here? Kronos was scared of you.”

Harry shrugged. “You were going into heat when you were dying. I’ve been keeping your omega at bay and mostly succeeding. You needed to heal first.”

Luke stared at him and then reached down with his other hand and pinched his side, wincing. 

“Luke, darling, stop. Kronos doesn’t have you anymore,” Harry murmured, shuffling off the chair and up onto the bed to straddle the other young man. He held both of Luke’s hands in one of his and reached out to cup his chin, turning Luke to face him. “You are safe. It is just you in your body. I promise.”

“How do you know? You don’t even know me.”

“I’ve been possessed before. I know what it’s like to not have any control over your body.”

“You’re not an omega,” Luke muttered.

“I am not, no. Did Kronos…”

Luke stayed silent and Harry let out a growl, feeling Luke shudder underneath him. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t invite him to…” Luke trailed off, his skin losing what color it had. “I just wanted the gods dead. I wanted my dad to… see me.”

Harry stroked a thumb over Luke’s hands and then let him go, his eyes narrowing. “I understand. More than you know, I understand. Luke… your heat’s… coming. Should I go find some toys for you or…”

“Kronos fucked me through a heat,” Luke whispered, closing his eyes at the memory. “He… wanted me to… He said he would keep me like a good pet, to produce his heir. I was scared of him.”

“You’re safe,” Harry said, his heart aching at Luke’s words. “I will back away and stand guard at the door if you want me to but I will not be like Kronos. Never.” 

“Open your eyes.”

Luke’s eyes fluttered back open and he peered up at Harry, his heart racing and heat swallowing him up. Harry Potter. He knew the young man wasn’t lying as his green eyes softened. Harry met his eyes even as Luke licked his lips, his whole body aching with heat and arousal. He could feel Harry’s cock through his jeans as Harry sat between his thighs.

Kronos had seen the scar on Harry’s forehead and had taken it for a good omen. The god had been delighted to learn that there was a wizard in the crowd of demigods opposing him, had whispered in Luke’s ear all the ways he would play with the human wizard after the war.

Luke shuddered and reached up, feeling strength in his arms again, to curl into Harry’s shirt, pulling him down. Harry’s eyes darkened and he immediately leaned down to claim Luke’s mouth, making him whine into it. 

Luke bucked up into Harry as his slick slid out of him, purring at the gentle possessiveness in Harry’s touches. Harry deepened the kiss, licked into his mouth, even as he pushed down the sheet covering Luke. 

“Luckily I’m naked,” Luke whispered, moaning as Harry moved away from his mouth to trail kisses down to his throat. His fingers curled into the mattress underneath him, as Harry’s fingers moved down to rub over a nipple. 

Harry’s lips twitched into an amused grin and he moved down to lick over Luke’s other nipple, laving at it until it reddened and peaked. Luke moaned and writhed under Harry, moving into the touches, and brought up his hand to bite into his palm, trying to silence the cry that was attempting to get out. Harry met his eyes and placed his hand over his, pulling it away.

Harry’s green eyes were heated and dark. “Be as loud as you like, little omega. The tent walls will keep your yelling from getting out. I find I enjoy hearing you.”

Luke whimpered and bucked up into Harry’s hand as his fingers trailed down past his waist to his cock, tracing feather light touches over it. His first release of the night came quickly even as Harry sucked a bruise into his collarbone, nipping a little. Luke shuddered through it and cried out even as Harry withdrew to shuck off his jeans and shirt, letting Luke see his big cock.

His eyes widened even as he panted, his body aching with the need to be filled. “ Please.

Harry leaned back down to kiss him again, swallowing up a whimper with a wet, hot kiss. Luke groaned even as Harry slipped his tongue into his mouth again, as he felt fingers rubbing his skin, stroking his cock and then trailing down to his hole. Luke melted into the fingers as Harry withdrew just a little bit, his eyes watching Luke as a finger slid into him, pleasure sparking through him again. 

“You’re already so wet for me,” Harry murmured, his voice husky and hoarse. “ Fuck.”

Luke trembled as he felt Harry swirl his finger around his hole, trailing over his inner thighs and into him. Another finger joined the first and Harry pumped into him, sending him over the edge again. He yelled out with pleasure that he had not felt when Kronos had so brutally fucked him. Sparks entered his vision and heat rolled through him as Harry curled his fingers into him, hitting that spot again and again.




Harry watched as Luke came again, watched as his mouth opened, his tongue peeking out. “Ah, Luke.”

He leaned down to lick a path up Luke’s small cock, enjoying the taste of him, and then moved lower still, licking into his hole. Luke bucked up and Harry reached up to hold him down, licking into him without hesitation. The loud moans and whimpers were like music to his ears and Luke was utterly lost to the pleasure he was receiving.

 




Luke shut his eyes against the sight before him, pleasure rocketing through him as Harry ate him out like Luke was a feast. His green eyes were dark and Luke shuddered, rocking into it, trying to get more.

“You’re ready for me?”

“I was ready months ago,” Luke croaked out, as Harry pulled back, his mouth shining with Luke’s slick.

Harry grinned, slipping a pillow underneath Luke’s hips, tugged at his legs to move him and slid home in that minute. Luke shouted and came again at the sensation, wrapping his arms around Harry’s back and clawing into his skin as he sat up. Sweat dripped down his forehead and his back and there was a pool of slick and come on the sheets beneath them but Luke didn’t care as he sighed in pleasure, feeling full and surrounded by someone who cared for him. 

Harry pressed a kiss to his forehead and wiped the sweat off, stroking Luke’s cheek and then moved, inching back out a little and then slamming home again. Luke whined and pressed closer, making Harry startle in surprise before smirking. Harry bent in low to nibble at both of his nipples and Luke groaned, rocking around on his alpha’s lap. Heat rode through him and he whined as Harry slipped a finger between his cock and Luke’s hole, curling into him before pulling out. 

“Luke… Luke!”

Luke groaned and nuzzled into the crook of Harry’s neck, feeling one of Harry’s hands curl around his neck in return. 

“Do you want me to claim you?” Harry muttered, licking at his ear and making him shudder. He moved around, jostling his cock and sending pleasure shooting through Luke. “To knot you?”

He shuddered at Harry’s words and mouthed at his alpha’s skin, squirming around to get more friction, more, just more. He was so full of Harry that he didn’t want to move. He felt… safe for the first time in years.

“Luke, I need words, darling,” Harry whispered, his voice low and husky and utterly wrecked.

Luke pulled back, his heart galloping in his chest and pleasure building again and…

“Yes. Yes, yes. I want you. I want your cock. Everything. Both.”

Harry snorted, his eyes light with amusement and heat. “You’re heat drunk.”

Luke shook his head and moved around, experimenting. Harry sucked in a tight breath and squeezed his neck in warning, sending heated tingles over Luke’s skin. Luke stopped moving and met Harry’s eyes.

“Fine.”

Harry pulled back and out a little and then slid back in, sending Luke over the edge again and bit into his neck lightly at the same time. Luke cried out as he felt Harry’s cock grow within him, as his whole body relaxed as Harry licked over his bite to soothe it, licking over his scent glands. 

Mine.”

Luke shuddered, trembling with aftershocks, his eyes drooping closed.

“Sleep, Luke. I’ve got you,” Harry whispered, stroking his back. “We’ll face everyone else in the morning. I’ll be with you every step of the way, even to face your father.”

Chapter Text

“The usual for you?”

Harry shrugged as he sat down on the bar stool and peered over at the cute bartender. “I’ve always been curious about your Shirley Templar. Any relation to the Templars of old?”

Desmond’s lips twitched into a bemused grin but shook his head. “Nah. Just a play on words. Besides those Templars died out hundreds of years ago.”

Harry grinned and nodded, taking out a local paper and putting it on the counter. “Yeah, sure. I’ll try it.”

Desmond nodded and turned around to start making the drink, taking a few more drink orders from three other people in the bar. It was early to start drinking but it was a Sunday and most people were getting ready for work in the morning. Harry looked around at the bar, aptly named Bad Weather, and then turned to the paper, looking it over for anything unusual.

It was pouring rain outside and Harry had just ducked inside to get dry the first night he had come here. From then on, this bar was the one he visited after he realized he enjoyed the drinks and enjoyed watching Desmond mix drinks. It didn’t help things that Harry was attracted to him also.

It didn’t take much time for Desmond to carry his drink over and Harry raised his glass in thanks. 

“Sooo…. How many offers did you get last night?”

Desmond snorted. “Too many. A few too many potential sugar daddies if you know what I mean.”

Harry laughed at the man’s words and took a sip of the drink, closing his eyes at the taste. “It’s good.”

“Did you really expect differently?”

“No, not really,” Harry agreed, raising an eyebrow at a few other customers who were getting louder. Something about the prices on the stock market or maybe it was sports. He didn’t particularly know or care. “You do have a way with alcohol. Granted, I don’t drink a lot but…”

“‘S not my place to judge customers,” Desmond offered, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. 

Harry dipped his head in a nod and took another sip of his drink, watching as Desmond moved on to help other people. He heard Desmond give a drink on the house to someone who looked down on their luck before turning down to the muggle paper, skimming through articles to check if there was any indication of magical activity.

He casually brought out a copy of the local magical newspaper, watching the moving photos in it. This was a bigger paper than the Daily Prophet and it actually looked less of a rag than the Prophet. There was of course a photo of himself on the front page, with the headline that the Boy-Who-Lived had come to visit New York.

In the business section, there were more and more headlines of the big industry business, Abstergo and its many holdings. There were headlines about Abstergo in both the muggle newspaper and the magical one but nothing that peeked Harry’s interest. As he read on, it grew more crowded in the bar, enough that it was loud and busy. 

He sighed and peered up at Desmond again, looking him over quietly. The other young man looked to be around Harry’s age, maybe around 25, and he had short dark hair and amber colored eyes, as well as a fit body. Or perhaps a body that had been fit several years ago and now was decreasing in shape. He still made Harry want to see if he was interested.

Harry finished up his drink, tucked the magical paper back into a pocket, and stood up, placing money on the counter. It was about time that he needed to be getting back to MACUSA to check in with their auror office anyway. “Desmond, I’m off!”

Desmond turned back to him, his eyes lit up by the light. “I’m off at 10, if you want to stick around.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and leaned his arms on the counter, meeting Desmond’s eyes. “You saw through me that easily?”

Desmond snorted. “You’re kind of really obvious about it.”

Harry grinned as Desmond looked him over, the man’s eyes drawing to Harry’s scar. 

“You always say no to everyone else,” Harry remarked, lowering his voice. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a regular? You’re definitely not like the Wall Street men that occasionally come into my bar. You’re quiet. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve been fucked.”

“Well then. I shall do my best to meet your expectations,” Harry offered, winking at Desmond and watching him grin.

Harry’s eyes widened before he returned Desmond’s grin, settled back down onto his chair. 




 

“That’s some motorcycle you’ve got,” Desmond said before groaning as Harry pressed into him, wrapping his arms around him. Harry turned to look at the motorcycle that Desmond spotted and smiled fondly at it.

“It was my godfather’s,” Harry remarked, pulling Desmond into a heated kiss and slotting a thigh between his legs. “He left it to me but… I’ve never gotten around to riding it. I’ve got… better modes of transportation.”

Desmond whined, his heart jumping as Harry slipped his tongue into his mouth and rubbed heated circles into his stomach, under his shirt. “Better modes of transportation? What’s better than going really fast and forgetting your past?”

Harry stared at him, his eyes narrowing, and Desmond swallowed before bucking into Harry, feeling the man’s hard cock through his jeans. Harry had drawn his eyes the moment that he had stepped into Bad Weather, the moment that their eyes had met. His accent and the way that Harry’s eyes hadn’t gazed past him or through him or the way that Harry didn’t look at him like Desmond was… inferior.

He had gotten more of that than he wanted before he had run away from the Farm.

“You alright?” Harry asked, his voice quiet. His eyes were darkened with arousal but he was pulling back, asking in more than just words if Desmond was okay.

“Forget I said anything. Just fuck me,” Desmond muttered, curling in further to Harry and tugging him closer. “I want bruises.”

Harry swore under his breath and Desmond thought he heard hissing for a second before Harry leaned in again, pressing his lips against his. Desmond groaned and opened up for him, heat invading him and pleasure sparking under his skin. His cock hardened even more as Harry pressed kisses to his chin, trailed a line of heat down to his throat. Desmond leaned back, letting Harry have more access, and backed up, falling against the wall of his apartment.

Harry followed him, pulling his shirt off, and placing his arms on either side of Desmond, almost caging him but not. Desmond stared at him, his heart racing, and pulled off his shirt too, taking in the skin of Harry’s chest. Harry was definitely in good shape, built more for speed than for brute force combat and Desmond veered away from those thoughts. There was a red-green blossom of a scar right over where Harry’s heart was and he reached out to trace it, seeing goosebumps bloom on his skin.

“You alright?” Desmond questioned even as Harry curled his fingers over Desmond’s. 

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about that,” Harry said, reaching out to smooth over Desmond’s chest, rubbing over a nipple. Desmond groaned and bucked and Harry smiled, leaning in again to swallow up his whine with a heated kiss. Harry’s other hand dropped down to trail down to Desmond’s waist, slipping under his waistband and tracing over his cock, making him buck into his fingers.

Fuck. ” Desmond whined as Harry moved in and sucked a bruising kiss into the crook of his neck, another one on his collarbone, making his cock jump in Harry’s warm fingers. 

Harry’s eyes darkened as Desmond opened his, meeting the heat in them gladly. “You have neighbors who would care if we were… loud?”

Desmond vehemently shook his head even as Harry stroked over his cock, making him yell. Harry grinned and wrapped his arms around Desmond, lifting him up as he leaned into lick over his other nipple, laving at it and suckling it. He moaned and tucked his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, pressing kisses to his skin.

Harry deposited him on his bed but stayed where he was, looking out over him, before shucking off his shoes and jeans. Desmond watched as he threw his shoes off towards the side and climbed up onto the bed, licking a trail down Desmond’s chest and down to his waist, meeting his eyes each moment. Harry helped Desmond pull off his jeans and then without warning swallowed him down, making Desmond yelp and buck up only to be held down by one of Harry’s hands.

Harry eagerly licked at his cock, sucked and swallowed around him and Desmond whimpered, not even trying to hide his sounds, not even caring at all. He just wanted more of it, wanted to be fucked and Harry… He pulled off with a loud pop, peering at him with a wide, slightly predatory smile and trailed his fingers down, cradling Desmond’s balls, lightly trailing over them with nails before slipping downward, circling his hole.

Desmond’s heart skipped a beat and then he tried to shuffle towards Harry on the bed, wanting more. Harry grinned and stroked his inner thighs, bringing up goosebumps, before reaching out to a bedside table to draw out lube. Desmond watched as Harry swiped his fingers into the bottle of lube before slipping a finger into him. 

He hadn’t been fucked in a while not since the first month he had gotten to a city after the Farm but shit. This felt… He groaned as Harry curled and scissored his finger, adding another, and hitting his prostate after the second try. Pleasure grew in him, growing at the base of his spine and pre-come leaked from his cock. 

“You look beautiful,” Harry whispered, his voice husky and hoarse.

Desmond whined, turning his face away, even as Harry withdrew his fingers, put a pillow underneath Desmond’s hips and lined his cock up. Harry looked at him, his green eyes dark with arousal and desire, before sliding in, making Desmond jolt at the feel of it. He squirmed around at the feel of it, enjoying feeling the fullness and fuck. A hand brushed the hair off his sweaty forehead and stroked his cheek, turning his face to meet Harry’s eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Desmond,” Harry echoed.

Desmond stayed quiet at Harry’s words and pressed closer to Harry, making the man’s cock slide into him deeper. Harry swore again and laid a hand on Desmond’s chest before withdrawing and fucking him in earnest. Sweat covered Desmond’s thighs and stomach and he could see sweat dripping down Harry’s forehead. His heart galloped like the horses they had on the Farm and he groaned, hearing skin hitting skin as Harry slammed in again.

Pleasure boiled within him and Harry leaned into press a biting kiss onto his neck, sending him over the edge. His release bounced through him and his mouth fell open, his toes curling and his fingers clenching into the mattress underneath him. Harry’s fingers slipped into his and his other hand stroked him through his release, pumping his cock lightly. 

Harry withdrew and then slid in deeper, chasing his own release, before he found his a moment later. Harry stayed in him for a minute, two minutes, before pulling out. Desmond exhaled and sighed in pleasure, even as Harry pulled out a washcloth from somewhere and cleaned them both up, wiping the come and sweat off. 

“You can stay here for the night, if you wish,” Harry whispered, meeting his eyes.

“I… May I?”

“Of course. Come here,” Harry murmured, curling an arm around him and pulling him close. Desmond burrowed into Harry’s arms, feeling Harry’s fingers rub circles onto his back. 

 





Two months later, Harry glanced out the window of his apartment and then stepped out the door, looking for Desmond. It was half past 9pm and the man wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Desmond had said he would be coming around to look at the motorcycle, after having gotten his license and… Desmond was late and Harry had a bad feeling about this.

He apparated to Bad Weather and walked into the bar, looking immediately at the bar and seeing a whole new person tending the bar. Harry’s heart stopped and then started slowly as he headed past the bar and up to the manager’s office, knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

Harry stepped inside, looking at the man that he had seen once or twice. 

The manager looked at him, his eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

“Have you seen Desmond?”

“No. We haven’t seen him for a few nights. Had to hire a new bartender too. It’s too bad. He was good at it.”

Harry frowned, thanked the man, and left the bar, walking around to the back of it. There were the usual trash bins and perhaps a stray cat and… He heard the distinct sound of wet hide on the pavement and peered underneath the big trash container, seeing the completely black snake coiled under it.

Go away, human.”

Harry snorted and knelt down further. The snake’s voice was female and annoyed, irritated at the world for existing. “ I’m no ordinary human.”

The snake uncoiled at his voice, its beady eyes staring at him. “ A speaker?”

Yes. I’m a speaker. This isn’t a good place for you, is it?”

The snake uncoiled further and slithered towards him. Harry backed up, letting the snake have room. 

No, it’s not. Humans are weird and loud and were scared of my fangs.”

And they were quite some fangs. Harry looked the snake over, going through a mental catalogue of non magical snakes and coming up with nothing. “ Are you from a wizarding village?”

“Yes. Obviously. What are you here for? Come to displace me again?”

“You wouldn’t have happened to see anything… suspicious in the past few months?” Harry asked, lowering an arm down and letting the snake slither up his arm to his shoulder. 

What would be suspicious to a human?”

Oh… someone… kidnapping someone. You’ve seen humans act before.”

The snake peered around at him, its grey eyes narrowed before bending her head. “ I did see something, speaker. A big car came behind here, white, with a triangle on its side. White clothed people came to take the man who smells of drinks and put him in their van. I thought I saw one of them slide a… metal thing into his neck.”

Harry blinked at the snake’s words. Not all of the snakes he had talked to were this… talkative in the past. But… a car with a triangle on the side of it… He didn’t know what that meant but it did mean that Desmond… was in trouble. Drugged and in trouble. 

“Do you want me to take you somewhere else? To a forest maybe?”

“I don’t care what you do. Just take me with you. You’re the first speaker I’ve met.”

“I will be getting into some shit,” Harry remarked, stroking the snake’s head. 

Do you think I might bite people?”

Harry snorted at the snake’s words. “ Perhaps.”

“Take me with you then.”

“You’re a little homicidal for a snake. Alright. I’ve seen worse. Let’s go rescue my boyfriend.”

I didn’t understand those last words.”

“I just said let’s get you something to eat.”

“Oh. I approve.”

Chapter Text

“Wait, you’re going through all the nurses… but me?”

Mark looked up from his paperwork, glancing over to the man who had spoken. The guy was in the light green scrubs of a registered nurse, with a name tag that said his name was Harry. His black hair fell to his chin, little wild curls springing out and the rest of it was untamed. Bright green eyes were lit in amusement and his lips twitched up into a bemused grin.

The scar on his forehead spoke of an interesting injury, the lightning bolt shape of it intriguing. Mark wondered how the guy had gotten it, wondered what would cause such a scar. He had certainly never seen a scar that was shaped like that in his career.

Harry was holding a pile of charts in his hands as he stood at the nurse’s desk, looking right at him.

“I think I should be offended.”

“No need to be offended,” Mark commented, taking in the man in front of him more closely. He was attractive, as tall as Mark and he hadn’t ever met or seen the man before.

“Well, just to let you know… Straight’s not a word I would apply to myself,” Harry remarked, shrugging and winking at him. “I’m up for a tumble in one of the on-call beds. When we’re not busy, that is.”

Harry grinned at him and then walked off, answering a call from another person.




 

“Never had sex in an on-call room before,” Harry muttered, as Mark pulled him into the room and kicked the door closed with a foot.

“There’s a certain appeal,” Mark teased, smirking as he leaned into kiss the man, shivering slightly as Harry curled an arm around his neck. He ended up on the bed with a slight push and Harry stepped into the vee of his legs, cupped his chin and pressed his lips to his.

Mark’s heart skipped a beat at the kiss, as Harry’s tongue traced his mouth and nipped. He groaned even as his cock hardened, his heart racing in his chest. He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist to pull him closer, seeing Harry’s eyes darken with arousal.

“Sooo… McSteamy… quite a nickname,” Harry muttered, his green eyes sparking with what looked like mischief. “You earn that?”

“I have a reputation,” Mark said, grinning at him and winking as he shucked his shirt off. Harry rolled his eyes, the heat in them obvious, and leaned into press a line of kisses from his chin down to his throat and Mark shuddered, going with Harry’s slight push and lying down on his back. 

“Yeah, I guess you do.” Harry stared down at him, eyes sparking and widening with arousal as he looked Mark over. “You’ve fucked over half the nurses here, haven’t you?”

Mark smirked and shrugged, watching as Harry pulled off his own shirt. The man had a few scars over his upper torso, with the one on his forehead being the one that drew Mark’s attention. There was the one on his chest, the one that kind of looked like a red-green blossom tattoo and the scar on his left shoulder though Mark didn’t know where either of them came from. “Yeah, I have. They couldn’t wait to get their hands on this as you can see.”

Harry snorted and pressed a hand to Mark’s chest, warm and slightly pressing down to keep him in place. “I definitely see the appeal.”

Mark watched as Harry leaned down, his hands tracing circles over his chest. Goose bumps followed Harry’s fingers and Mark shivered as Harry followed his fingers with his tongue, laving over a nipple and then hovering over his waistband. 

His cock hardened even more as Harry met his eyes, leaned down to press into him with a kiss. Mark let out a noise under his breath, whined at the lack of touch where he wanted it and tried to move on the bed. Harry was sitting between his legs, stroking his skin and making him go crazy with need, little light touches everywhere even as he slowly pulled down Mark’s pants.

Mark curled an arm around Harry’s back, pulling him closer so that he could kiss him. Harry blinked, his eyes widening with heated arousal, his tongue brushing against his mouth. Mark shuddered and opened his mouth, letting Harry in even as he felt Harry’s fingers rub against his cock, through his clothes.

Pleasure brewed in his body, his fingers curling into the mattress underneath him. His heart beat steadily in his chest as Harry withdrew to partially pull off his own pants, throwing them somewhere off the cot. Mark reached up to trail his fingers over Harry’s chest, feeling the raised bumps of what he thought had been a tattoo on his skin and now realized was a scar. 

A scar that still looked as vivid as ever, red and orange and a slight hint of green centered over the man’s heart. It looked like a blossom but… “Where did this come from?”

Harry stilled and looked down at him, reaching down to grip Mark’s fingers. “That… that is a long story. Unpleasant too. And perhaps a little classified.”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “Classified?”

“It’s a long story,” Harry repeated, lowering down to kiss him again and let his hands go only to trail his fingers over Mark’s cock. 

He jolted up at the touch, groaning, all thought of where the strange scar had come from gone from his mind. Fingers trailed downward, stroking over his inner thighs to enter him and he moaned, arching into Harry’s finger. The slick sound of skin and fingers pumping into him filled the room and Mark groaned, arching down onto Harry’s fingers. Harry must have gotten lube somewhere but Mark hadn’t noticed anything.

“You ever been on the bottom before?” Harry questioned, his voice hoarse and husky. His eyes were dark with arousal and there was a glint there that Mark couldn’t quite decipher.

No… Oh, fuck .” Mark shuddered as Harry’s finger hit his prostate, setting his nerves alight with pleasure. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he watched as Harry stared at him, his green eyes wide with pleasure. 

“You look fucking beautiful like this.”

Mark blinked and then smirked up at Harry, winking at him. “Of course… fuck. Of course I do.”

Harry grinned and slid in another finger, stretching him open. Harry’s other hand traced up his waist, trailing circles over his stomach before pressing down, keeping Mark down as he tried to buck up into the sensations. Warmth invaded him and his nerves sparked with pleasure even as Harry fingerfucked him with an ease that Mark hadn’t seen before.

“You like having sex in a public place, hmm?” Harry muttered, meeting his eyes as he stretched him open. Mark shuddered underneath him, squirming around as sweat dropped down his forehead. 

Fuck.” Mark moaned louder as Harry grinned, leaning down to lick a line up his cock, laving over the tip of it before swallowing him in one move. He yelped, tried to buck up only to be pressed down, held down by Harry’s hand. Warmth and wetness encased him and Harry smirked up at him, swallowed around him and then withdrew. 

Pleasure roiled through him as pre-come leaked from his cock. Harry grinned even as he pressed down into him for a hot kiss, pulling at a nipple, twisting it and rubbing over it and Mark whined again, louder. 

 


 

Harry’s eyes darkened as he hovered over him before reaching up to cup his cheek, tracing his thumb over Mark’s mouth. Mark met his eyes before slipping his tongue out to lick at his finger and Harry groaned, his cock hardening even more at the sight. 

“No desire to hide yourself,” Harry continued, sucking in a tight breath even more as he watched Mark lick his finger. Mark looked utterly gorgeous like this, sweaty, hot and underneath him and Harry wanted to fuck him into the mattress. Harry pulled his fingers away and Mark groaned, reaching out a hand to curl into Harry’s legs.

“Fuck me already,” Mark croaked out, his voice hoarse. 

“The whole hall could hear you and the last girl,” Harry muttered, sliding back over Mark’s body and deliberately rubbing his cock over the man’s stomach. Mark groaned and lifted his legs hurriedly as Harry slid a pillow underneath his hips. “You know… you could do with a gag sometime.”

Mark’s eyes widened and he spluttered even as his cheeks reddened. Harry grinned, reaching down to lightly trail his fingertips across his thighs, scraping his nails over Mark’s hard cock. He squirmed underneath him, his tongue peeking out from his mouth, and his eyes wide. Mark’s breathing was shallow and Harry could tell the man was close.

“Just a thought,” Harry whispered in teasing amusement before lining himself up and sliding home in one move. Mark yelled as his cock spurted pre come, his arms coming up to wrap around Harry. Harry shuddered as warmth encased him and Mark shuddered, shutting his eyes close.

Mark shuddered around him, his muscles clenching and unclenching, his breathing picking up. Harry reached down and kissed him again as he inched out slowly, letting the man adjust.

 


 

Mark tried to relax around Harry’s cock, breathing fast and shallow, and heart racing. Pleasure sparked ran through him even as Harry leaned into him to press his lips to his, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Mark arched up, moaning as it jostled Harry’s cock inside him.

“You ready?” Harry asked, his voice full of pleasure and just a hint of possessiveness. “Mark?”

“I… Fuck… I’d never gone… fuck...this far with a man,” Mark croaked out as Harry began to move, sliding deeper, further into him and hitting that spot. Pleasure filled him, easing the ache from standing for an eight hour surgery. He felt full, full and surrounded and Harry’s voice echoed in his mind. You could do with a gag sometime. Mark moaned at the thought and watched as Harry’s eyes darkened with lust even further.

“I’m your first then?” Harry said, sliding in harder this time and slamming into his prostate and he cried out. “Why thank you.”

Mark let out a strangled laugh, digging his nails into the bare skin of Harry’s back. Harry sped up, fucking him harder with each thrust into him. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room and he distinctly didn’t remember locking the door and…

“I locked it,” Harry croaked out, meeting his eyes. “Unless that’s a thing you like? The thought of someone walking in on you?”

Mark froze, his eyes widening, before turning away, his cheeks heating for an entirely different reason. Memories of Derek walking in on him and Addison filled his mind and the sudden hand on his cock drew him out of them, making him shudder.

“Sloan, I locked the door. Don’t worry,” Harry murmured, reaching up to grip his chin. “Just focus on me. Focus on me and the fact that my cock is in you.”

Mark groaned even as he stared up into Harry’s eyes. “Kind of hard not to focus on that. Fuck.”

Harry grinned and thrust in harder, hitting his prostate again and again. Mark breathed in fast and hard and Harry stroked his cock, pumping him until he spilled, staring right into Harry’s eyes as he did. His toes curled and pleasure rode roughshod through him, his eyes fluttering closed. 

Harry chased his own orgasm, fucking Mark through his and yelled out, his cock spilling into him.




 

“Who’s in there with him?”

“I don’t know. But whoever’s in there is getting the sex that I’ve always wanted.”

“Do you think they’d be willing to fuck me like that?”

“I didn’t know Sloan liked men.”

“He’s had sex with nearly everyone in this hospital. Of course he likes men.”

Harry sleepily opened his eyes even as he heard more whispers from the bed. There were clearly people on the other side of the door, people who sounded like interns or maybe even residents. He rolled his eyes as whoever it was on the other side of the door continued to whisper, something in his chest going tight at the thought of Mark fucking other people.

Mark groaned as he woke up, blinking his eyes open. 

“I should be getting back to work,” Harry remarked quietly, shrugging and swinging his legs off the bed. “And then I have… Fuck. I totally forgot about that press conference. Ahh.”

Mark watched as he stood up, pulling on his clothes. “Press conference?”

Harry turned to look at him, his lips twitching up into a slight grin. “It’s a long, classified story, Sloan. I’d be up for sex anytime though. I had fun. Definitely had more fun than I’ve had in a while.”

Mark stared, blinked once or twice and then he smirked. “More sex it is then.”

He reached out to curl an hand around Harry’s leg as he walked back over to the bed. 

“Sloan, not now,” Harry murmured, slipping on his nurse’s uniform and staring down at him. He eyed him before sighing, reaching down to lay his hand over Mark’s. Harry’s warmth invaded his skin and Mark shuddered with it, his cock perking up at even the barest touch. “I meant later. I have places to be, places that are on another continent.”

Mark whined and Harry grinned, his eyes straying to Mark’s bare chest. “McSteamy. You did earn the name. Don’t you have another surgery to attend to?”

“Nah. Not until tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll see you later.”

Mark watched as Harry withdrew his hand before the other man turned and headed over to the door. Harry paused at the door then turned, his eyes darkening with a possessive hint to them. Mark shivered at the sight, his heart skipping a beat.

“You were gorgeous you know,” Harry offered, his voice low. “Beneath me.”  

Chapter Text

“Jace… darling…What’s wrong?”

“You… fuck… you say that… now ,” Jace croaked out, rocking a little, trying to get friction, to… His hands were tied behind his back, his arms folded inward and he groaned, ducking his head onto Harry’s shoulder and biting into the skin he found. “You’re… ah!”

Fingers combed through his hair and breath tickled his skin even as a hand curled around the nape of his neck. “Something’s bothering you.”

“It’s… nothing,” Jace muttered, sucking in a tight breath as Harry’s hand squeezed in warning as Jace tried to move. “Fuck me!”

“You asked me to tie you up,” Harry whispered, his voice low and breathy and husky and he wouldn’t move . “We haven’t done this in a while. Granted, you’re gorgeous and it’s doing things to me to see you on my lap at my perusal. But…”

Move!”

Harry reached up a hand to rub a nipple, reaching in to lick at it. Jace whined and rocked deeper, almost leaning on Harry’s shoulders now. Pleasure grew at the base of his spine and in his stomach, warmth invading his everything. Harry’s other hand stroked his thighs, rubbing teasing circles into his skin. 

Jace ,” Harry remarked, nipping into his skin and licking a trail of wet kisses up his bare collarbone before nudging Jace’s chin up. 

Jace shuddered as his heart raced and his cock spurted pre come, aching with need. His whole world had become the light touches on his skin and the cock inside him, the feeling of being full infecting him. His fingers clenched and unclenched and he wanted to be able touch, to grasp onto the mattress underneath them. 

“You…” Jace trailed off as Harry licked up his throat, pressing a kiss at the base of his skin. Jace shivered and just as he opened his mouth to… say something, Harry thrust up into him and pleasure shot through him. The angle was just right and hot and Jace whined, pleasure touching every nerve in his body. “ Fuck.”

Harry’s breathing grew louder as he reached out to grasp Jace’s shoulders, maneuvering him around enough that he could pull out. Jace let out a strangled moan at the manhandling, whining as Harry thrust back in, deeper and fuller this time.

“You’re beautiful when you lose control,” Harry murmured, cupping his chin and smoothing a thumb over his cheek. Jace met Harry’s dilated pupils carefully, seeing the heat in them. 

“You… taking advantage of me then?”

Harry snorted, nipping a kiss onto the skin at the crook of Jace’s neck. “No. Never. Just fucking you. Isn’t that why you called? A booty call? Shit, Jace.

Jace huffed out a laugh, breathless and loose. He took a breath and raised himself up before sinking back down onto Harry’s cock. Harry groaned and wrapped an arm around Jace’s waist, digging his nails into Jace’s back. 

“You been going to the gym more?” Harry croaked out.

Jace shook his head and dropped his head onto Harry’s shoulder. More like running from Valentine, being… Jace shuddered and Harry stayed still, quiet for a minute.

“Jace?”

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Jace muttered. “Just fuck me.”

“Alright. You close?”

Jace nodded, not trusting himself to talk, despite the low ache of recently healed ribs and the burns that were hidden by runes. Fingers curled around his neck, smoothed over hair and trailed down his chest, tweaking his nipples. Pleasure boiled through him and he pulled up to catch the look in Harry’s eyes.

Fondness mixed with arousal and concern. 

Harry sighed and thrust up into him again, hitting his prostate again and again and Jace keened out, as one of Harry’s hands traced his sides, bringing up goosebumps. His fingers trailed over his chest, keeping above his waist and not even coming close to his cock and Jace almost let out a growl.

“Come for me then,” Harry whispered, his eyes intent on Jace. “Don’t think about anything else. Just me and you and you taking my cock like you were made for it. Submitting to me. Think about my hands on you and my fingers in you, opening you up and getting you all wet. Marking you up.”

Harry’s eyes flashed and he leaned over to nuzzle into Jace’s neck, biting into his skin. Not enough to break skin but enough to send Jace over the edge.

White hot pleasure jolted through him and darkness filled his vision. A sound left his throat as if it had been choked out of him. He slumped onto Harry’s shoulder and both of Harry’s arms wrapped around him, as he chased his own orgasm.

“Good boy,” Harry whispered breathlessly. “So beautifully trussed up for me. You came without me touching your cock.”

Jace whined even as he continued to tremble, his cock still spurting come.  Harry’s hand traveled to his neck and Jace followed the gentle order to lean against Harry, feeling the man untie him. The silk ropes fell to the mattress with a soft thump and Jace shuddered as Harry massaged his thighs, his legs, bringing his arms back around and massaging them too.

Harry’s hands withdrew and Jace whined louder at the loss of warmth.

“Shhh, it’s alright. Just cleaning you up,” Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He brushed some hair off of Jace’s forehead before lying them both down onto the bed. 

Jace slumped into Harry’s chest, his eyes already drooping closed. A blanket rose and covered his bare back and bottom and he groaned, enjoying the extra warmth. 

“Jace… water,” Harry said, fondness in his voice. “You need to get some water into your body.”

Jace blearily opened his eyes and opened his mouth, sipping on the water that Harry had pulled over. He shivered and greedily gulped down a few swallows before falling back onto Harry.

“Get some sleep,” Harry said quietly, stroking Jace’s back in circles. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Jace’s eyes drooped closed again and he was asleep in seconds.




 

Harry peered down at the man that slept on top of him, his fingers combing through Jace’s hair. Jace had a few new scars since they had seen each other last and despite Jace trying to hide them, Harry could tell that Jace had a few bruised or possibly had broken ribs. 

There were burn scars that Harry could see even though the shadowhunter had activated a rune of hiding. He wondered what was going on in the shadow world now, his fingers still idly stroking Jace’s back. Perhaps it was time to show himself again.

Jace just thought he was a mundane though. And…Harry was loathe to shake up the man’s world.

Chapter Text

Harry stared down at Lucius Malfoy as the man fell backwards, knocked back by Dobby’s magic. He took a minute to breathe into this old and new body, closing his eyes briefly, before changing. By the time he opened them, a few seconds had passed, and he was taller, his hair had grown to his actual length and his clothes fit him nicely. He looked like a man in his prime, thirty years old, and strong for it.

“Oh Lucius.”

Lucius stared up at him, his grey eyes widening severely. His skin had gone pale as he sat up on the stone floor and he stretched out his arm to reach for his wand. Harry closed the distance between them in two steps and kicked Lucius’ wand out of his reach. He leaned down to pick up the cane with the snake handle and met the man’s eyes.

“Oh, no. Were you really going to kill me on school grounds?” Harry idly asked, his eyes narrowing at the sight before him. Lucius’ hair had fallen out of the tie he had pulled it back with and now it had fallen over his shoulders loosely. The man’s robes were a mess unlike every single time Harry had seen the man. “Really, Lucius. Way to think things through.”

Lucius stared up at him, his mouth opening and closing in disbelief, and Harry grinned even as his cock hardened at the sight, his heart flipping in his chest. Warmth bloomed within his body and he grinned, definitely aware that he was showing more teeth than was dinner table acceptable. 

“Harry Potter?”

“Dobby, you can leave us,” Harry remarked, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “I’m fine.”

“Master Harry is different now?”

“I came back in time,” Harry answered, his eyes not even leaving Lucius’. “And I was tired of a 12 year old body. I’m safe now. Your former master though… Perhaps not as safe as he thought he was.”

Lucius stared up at him, still on his bottom, and then glared up at him. Harry smirked even as he felt Dobby vanish and spared a glance to the cane in his hand. He could see Lucius follow his gaze, the other man’s hands pulling his robes back over his body. His fingers smoothed over the snake head and reached down, tipping Lucius’ head up with the cane at his chin.

“Someone will see us,” Lucius remarked, baring his teeth in a manner very much like a wolf at the mercy of a bigger predator. Like a lone wolf facing down a bear. “Dumbledore--”

“Yes, yes. Dumbledore can’t leave his Golden son alone for too long with a Death Eater,” Harry whispered easily, seeing Lucius’ eyes widen. His voice had lowered and deepened with desire. “I like what I’m seeing though. You at my mercy. I could kill you right here and now and call it self defense.”

Lucius spluttered even as his cheeks reddened. “You could try. I bet you don’t even have the will to kill me.”

“I bet you would look gorgeous tied up,” Harry remarked, taking a step closer and nudging Lucius with the cane. “You’re even beautiful on your knees before me. What would you look like under me, I wonder?”

Lucius’ breathing grew shallow and heavy, his pupils blown with lust. Harry smiled at the sight and brought his shields down, trailing a thin strand of power through the man and watched as Lucius sucked in a tight breath. The man’s legs began to tremble and his eyes widened even more. Harry could just see a hint of tenting within the man’s robes and he grinned.

Harry reached down to brush his knuckles across Lucius’ cheek, seeing him blink, and then reached out, curling his fingers around the nape of the man’s neck and squeezed. Lucius stared at him, his grey eyes narrowing in thought, and then he reached his arm out to hesitantly grip Harry’s hip, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, go right ahead. I cloaked us the minute you tried to kill me,” Harry whispered, grinning and his heart started to race as he felt Lucius’ chill fingers pull at his robes. Harry left his arms at his sides, still holding the cane within his left, and let Lucius do all the work. 

Lucius kept his eyes on him even as he opened his mouth and enveloped him. Harry moaned at the touch, enjoying the wet heat that surrounded him, and curled his unoccupied fingers into Lucius’ hair. Lucius met his eyes and then licked at his cock, once, twice and then swallowed around him. 

Harry wound his fingers into the hair within his grasp and yanked. Lucius’ eyes widened as Harry pulled him closer, his breath hitching as he swallowed around him. It was all wet, sloppy heat and Lucius licked at him eagerly, letting Harry fuck his mouth. It wasn’t the best blowjob Harry had had in his long life but hearing Lucius’ little drawn out groans and whines made something within him purr and it wasn’t long until his release came. He spilled into Lucius’ mouth and released him, breathing hard, his toes curling within his boots and sighed with pleasure.

Lucius stared up at him, his lips bruised and sprinkled liberally with come, his eyes wide. The man’s cock was hard and Harry imagined it to be aching within the confines of Lucius’ robes. The man hadn’t even touched his own cock, his arms still gripping onto Harry’s hips.

“That was wonderful, thank you,” Harry offered, his eyes glinting as he caught his breath. “Now for you.”

The man’s eyes widened even as Harry reached out, pushing at his chin with his own cane, and then he slowly stood up, all gangly movements made to look purposeful, his eyes never leaving Harry’s. “It did not take long for you to do what I ask, now did it?”

Lucius’ breathing grew shallow and heavy, his pupils blown with lust. “Your power…”

Harry smirked and reached out with his other hand, slipped it underneath Lucius’ robes and grasped his cock. Lucius whined, his eyes fluttering closed, and he threw his head back in pleasure as Harry stroked him, rubbing a thumb at the tip and twisting. Lucius’ breath hitched and Harry backed up him against the closest wall as the man’s legs began to tremble. He let the man’s cane drop to the stone floor, hearing the light thump as it hit the stone.

“I never would have thought to see Lucius Malfoy yielding to me,” Harry murmured, pumping him. “Or on his knees at my feet. You look utterly destroyed, sweaty and fucked out. You go to your knees for anyone with power, huh? Is that why you took his mark?”

Lucius shuddered and Harry pressed into him, drawing the man into a kiss finally. Lucius groaned, loud and broken noises leaving his throat and Harry grinned, licking into his mouth and brushing his tongue against the other man’s.  

“Have you let Tom take you? A brush of power against your body and your own power core and that’s it,” Harry continued as he pulled back to look into the man’s eyes. Lucius’ eyes were blown with desire and arousal and heat and Harry smiled at the sight, curling his fingers around the man’s neck and trailing up into his hair to again yank.

Lucius let out a strangled whine as his neck was bared and Harry licked a line of wet heat on his skin, licking up his neck and sucking a bruising kiss into the skin there and twisting his fingers hard around the man’s cock. Lucius shouted as his release came over him and slumped against the wall behind him, trembling.

“This wasn’t my intention to do this but… oh, you look gorgeous like this,” Harry murmured, meeting the man’s eyes easily. “And you might have a kink, you know. I saw you shudder as I yanked on your hair.”

Lucius shuddered, still breathing heavily as his orgasm rushed through him. “This will not happen a second time.”

“Just keep telling yourself that,” Harry remarked, reaching out to brush Lucius’ hair away from his forehead. “Better clean yourself up. I’m uncloaking us.”

Lucius’ eyes widened and he frantically looked around for his wand. Harry stared at the man before him and then sighed, waving his hand towards him. His robes straightened themselves out, the dirt and come vanished and Lucius’ hair curled back, the tie wrapping itself back around the strands. 

Harry stared into Lucius’ eyes before relaxing the ward around them both, calling his magic back in. Sounds filtered back in and he heard footsteps racing around the hallway, calling out for Harry Potter.

“You do not look like a 12 year old boy anymore,” Lucius finally remarked, his voice hoarse.

Harry blinked and then snorted. “Ah, right. I probably shouldn’t be around here then.”

 




Lucius Malfoy watched as Harry Potter vanished without a crack, a brush of power trailing over him as a last parting gift, and shuddered even as Dumbledore appeared in the doorway across from him. 

Chapter Text

Fingers trailed over his still clothed back and lips pressed to his waist, little nipping bites mouthed into his skin. Erik groaned even as his cock hardened, feeling the other man’s chest splaying over him.

His heart thumped within his chest as Harry’s fingers trailed even further downward, tracing his arse and then circled his hole. Erik stiffened and Harry reached his other hand down to Erik’s lower back, stroking circles into his skin. His other fingers curled around Erik’s hip, holding him in place. 

He stiffened even more at the restraint and then Harry pulled his fingers away.

“Erik… is this your first time?”

“No.”

“Erik.”

“Just fuck me.”

Breath tickled his ear as Harry slid his way up his back. Erik shivered at the combined sensations and trembled at the feel of the other man’s cock as it nestled against his inner thighs. Sweat dripped down his forehead and the cool air in the room brushed against Erik’s bare skin. Goosebumps rose on his arms though he still wore his long sleeved shirt, to cover the number inked into his skin.

“I am not going to hurt you.”

“I asked you for rough.”

A strangled groan left the man’s throat but Harry didn’t move. “Erik, I am not going to hurt you. I don’t hurt my lovers unless we’ve talked about it beforehand. You and I just met yesterday.”

Erik curled his fingers into the mattress and arched against the man above him, a thrill shooting its way through his body as Harry’s cock brushed deeper against him. Something coiled in his belly at the touch and he felt Harry freeze above him and then reach down, curling his fingers over the nape of Erik’s neck.

“You really want me to fuck you roughly, I will. I will however stretch you open,” Harry said, gritting his teeth and digging his nails into Erik’s skin. His cock hardened at the sight below him, with Erik all spread out underneath him. The man had kept his shirt on and Harry hadn’t commented on it, remembering trying to do the same thing back in school.

Especially in the days after the final task of the triwizarding tournament. 

Erik groaned and closed his eyes as the man’s fingers trailed back downward, circling downward to spread his cheeks and trailed over his hole. Sparks lit throughout every nerve and a warmth that he had never felt before took root in his belly. He heard movement above him and the first touch to that part of him sent him jolting, his legs clenching.

“Easy, Erik,” Harry whispered, sliding up him and speaking into his ear. “Relax for me.”

One of Harry’s arms snaked around him and reached for his cock, trailing light fingers over it and pleasure sparked. He whined at the light touches even as a wet finger slipped into him and all his attention turned to that, turning inward. The fingers on his cock moved and trailed over his balls, stroking circles onto his inner thighs and Erik shuddered, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You look gorgeous just like this,” Harry offered, as his finger slid deeper into him, stretching and curling inwardly and then… 

Erik jolted as pleasure slithered through him, heat blooming in his chest and in his body. Another finger joined the first and Erik groaned, arching back into Harry’s fingers, his cock spurting pre-come and he wanted… He didn’t know what he wanted but he wanted more. His thoughts all went silent as he focused on the two fingers inside him, curling and stroking him and then a third finger entered him, making him gasp.

There was a slight burning sensation as three fingers curled into him before slick wetness eased the way. Erik could hear Harry’s breath hitching, feel his other hand curling into his hip, anchoring and stroking before the fingers slipped out of him.

His muscles clenched around air and he whined at the emptiness. Harry slid up and then Erik felt lips press to his neck, warm and solid. 

“You ready?” 

Erik nodded against the pillow, not trusting his voice, almost quivering with need, his cock aching, and then a much bigger intrusion slipped into him. Harry’s cock was huge and in him and Erik swallowed, sucked in a tight breath and writhed at the pressure and… Sparks of pleasure bloomed behind his eyes, lighting his nerves on fire and warmth grew, as his breath stuttered.

“That’s it,” Harry whispered, his fingers gripping Erik’s hip and probably leaving marks. Erik shuddered even as he felt the cock inside him, pressing on everything and he felt heat fill him.  “Feels good?”

Erik muttered something under his breath, inhaling deeper, and heard Harry let out a questioning noise. His fingers clenched even further into the sheets and then Harry moved, sliding in deeper, bottoming out, and Erik whimpered, pleasure growing with him. 

The man above him moved, sliding out inch by inch and tearing pleasure from him and Erik yelled, feeling one of Harry’s hands slip into his. His cock ached and hardened and he distantly heard jingling coming from the bathroom. The lamp on the bedside table trembled. 

Harry pressed down into him and then slid home again, thrusting into him and began to move. Erik shuddered, trembling with pleasure, even as Harry’s breathing picked up, rough sounds of skin hitting skin filling the air. Sweat dripped down his neck and back, making his shirt cling to his back and Erik moaned. 

Fingers dug into his hips and he felt full, bursting at the seams as Harry pulled out again and thrust into him, deeper and hit that spot again. The hand at his hip left his waist and snaked around, reaching for his cock and stroking him, twisting and brushing nails against skin and Erik trembled. Pleasure blossomed through him, his toes curled into the sheet, his heart pounded in his chest and he melted against the mattress, feeling Harry’s release shoot through him.

Harry slumped against him, his large warm body covering him and Erik froze for a moment, still breathing heavily, pleasure still running roughshod through him but he felt…

“You’re safe, Erik,” Harry whispered, slipping an arm under his shirt and rubbing circles into his skin. “ You’re alright.”

Harry slid out of him and off his back, his fingers still underneath Erik’s shirt, pressing against his back. Erik sighed into the touch, his skin tingling, his breath still hitching and his eyes drooped closed finally.

 




The sun shone through the window and hit his eyes but that wasn’t what had woken him up. Harry jolted upright, the whimpers continuing, and turned to look at the man next to him, his eyes widening.

Every metal appliance that he had seen in the room when he had first entered was floating in the air above the bed. He had just nearly hit the hair dryer and he pushed it away, pressing it to the bedside table only for it to jump up into the air again. The lamp that he turned off was right above Erik’s head and the door knob was rolling in its hold. The door had fallen without the nails to hold it up or into the wall.

Erik was curled up into the fetal position, his eyes tightly shut, and his fingers clenched into fists. Sweat rolled down his forehead and Harry could see that the man’s shirt was clinging onto his back, stuck with fear sweat. Harry flinched, whispered two very familiar words, and Prongs leapt from his fingers, loped around the small room before coming to stand at the foot of the bed.

“I just need your presence, Prongs,” Harr