Extra Two:

Of Mornings

Remy paused at the bedroom door, gazing down at the misshapen lump tangled in the sheets and half-smothered in pillows. Affection was a steady warmth in his chest, like a warm toddy on a cold day, or summer sunlight after months of winter's snow. The why of his feeling that way was one of the great mysteries of the universe, really, and he hadn't yet found any answer more comprehensive than "because."

It didn't seem to matter, though. Not in the face of this.

He looked down at the rumpled bed and smiled, knowing he looked like a besotted fool and unable to bring himself to care even the tiniest bit.

Harry was an utter disaster in the morning.

Not every morning, to be fair—on weekdays he was awake before dawn, doing his nastily exhaustive exercise routine to keep up with the rest of the X-Men, most of whom had enhanced speed or stamina or strength. He'd be in the kitchen making breakfast by the time Remy got up at half six.

Logan…well. Logan wouldn't ever have gotten out of bed before noon if he had any other choice.

But five days out of seven, Harry was a bundle of energy and good cheer in the morning, to an almost frightening degree. His students often cursed him for it, Remy knew, and Logan tended to do a lot of staggering and growling while Hurricane Harry got them all ready to face the day.

And then there were the weekends. Remy looked at the bed again and grinned.

An utter disaster.

"Come on, mon chèri," he said cheerfully, reaching down to shake Harry's shoulder lightly. "It be almost noon, cher."

With a soft groan, the mound of blankets shifted, and a dark head emerged from the nest. Slitted green eyes stared up at him blankly, and Remy had to stifle the urge to laugh. Harry's long eyelashes were clumped together, and there were creases from the pillow on his cheek. His hair was an absolute mess, tangled and snarled around his face. He looked dazed, somewhere between shell-shocked and concussed, and it really shouldn't have been as cute as it was. Harry shouldn't have been as cute as he was. Cute didn't often go hand in hand with powerful precognitive wizard Master of Death, but here, now, like this, Harry really wasn't anything else.

"Whuzzat?" Harry blinked blearily for a moment before his eyes returned to narrow slits of bottle green and he groaned, collapsing forward into the pillow again. He didn't move, and Remy had a momentary flash of worry that he might have suffocated himself. Then the wizard twitched slightly, curling deeper into the warmth of the bed, and he had to smother another chuckle.

There was something disturbingly gratifying in seeing a nearly omniscient Seer unable to remember even his own name.

And, as absurd as it was, Harry was adorable like this.

"Ya be a couple a' dilithium crystals shor' of a warp core dis mornin', hmm, cher?" Remy said in amusement, stroking one hand over Harry's long, tangled hair in a vain attempt to smooth out some of the tangles. He was half-tempted to shuck off his own clothes and slide under the covers with the wizard, to turn him over and plaster himself along the warm, lean, pliant lines of that lovely body while Harry was still supple and sinuous with sleep. It took more effort than he would have thought to resist, and only the remembrance that there were young ears in the other room—and the thought of what Harry would do to him for corrupting what was left of his teenage godson's innocence—kept him from following through.

There was a brief pause, and then Harry turned his head slightly to the left and stared at him, his one visible eye unblinking in its disdain. "No Star Trek references, Remy," he growled warningly—or tried. His voice sounded more like that of a kitten with a head cold. "Too early. Go away."

Remy looked at the wizard in amusement, then reached down and hauled him out of the nest of covers. Harry let him, but made a sound like an irate housecat as he emerged into the cold air. Winter in New York was nothing to be happy about.

"Up, cher," Remy said again, setting him on his feet a safe distance from the bed, so that he couldn't simply fall back in again. "Der be coffee in de kitchen, and den Teddy be waitin' ta play in de snow wit' you and de kiddies. Off ya go."

"Evil," Harry muttered, but he staggered for the doorway, almost colliding headlong with the frame before he sidestepped at the last moment. "You are evil, and I curse whoever invented the space and time between bed and the coffeepot. They're evil, too." His sleeping pants slipped low on his hips, and only a quick save by Remy preserved his modesty as he half-fell into the attached kitchenette. Remy gathered a hairbrush, a ribbon, and one of Harry's oversized sweaters and followed, shaking his head.

Teddy was seated at the kitchen table, watching his godfather gulp down black coffee like it was about to be declared illegal. There was a look of bemused affection on his face, even if it was half-hidden by his shock of violently violet hair. As Remy entered the room, he cast a glance at the mutant and said with humor, "You roused the beast."

Remy grinned at him and swept a low, dramatic bow. "Dat Remy did," he agreed cheekily. "Bearded de dragon in its den an' emerged safe an' soun', like de hero Remy be."

Harry made a noise like a cat hacking up a hairball and muttered something impolite.

Teddy and Remy both looked at him, and then the younger wizard snorted and shook his head. "'Not a morning person' doesn't even begin to cover it," he muttered.

With a chuckle, Remy rescued the coffeepot from Harry's deathlike grip and wrestled the sweater over his head, then refilled his mug, pressed it into his hands, and seated him in one of the chairs. The jumper was far too large, the hem falling nearly too his knees, the sleeves swallowing his hands, and it was patched and worn nearly through in places. It made Harry look like a hobo, and Remy tried not to be disturbed by how endearing he found that.

Hobos weren't cute.

It seemed Harry, as a hobo, was.

Shaking off the thought, Remy pulled back Harry's rat's-nest of hair and began carefully threading the brush through the tangles, removing them as gently as he could. Not that Harry noticed. Like this, Remy suspected that someone could cut off an arm, and Harry would only notice when it interfered with his ability to get more coffee.

Teddy watched the whole process with something like admiration on his face, and then shook his head. "You are a brave, brave man, Uncle Remy," he said appreciatively. "Very brave. Or suicidal. I can't tell which."

"If complete and utter chaos was lightning, then he'd be the sort to stand on a hilltop in a thunderstorm wearing wet copper armor and shouting 'All gods are bastards!'" Harry mumbled into his mug, head jerking slightly with the force of Remy's pulls on the brush. It sounded like a quote.

It also made no sense, taken in context.

Teddy and Remy both looked at him, looked at each other, shook it off, and ignored him.

"Snowball figh'ing, hmm?" Remy said instead. "Der gonna be a lo' of de kiddies runnin' aroun', den? Got de teachers inta it, too, did ya no'?"

Teddy grinned, halfway to gleeful. He'd been attending Xavier's School for nearly six months now, and had long since adjusted to the fact that his professors were superhuman mutants who saved the world on a regular basis—though, considering that he had gone to a wizarding school and his godfather had saved both the Wizarding World and the Muggle one, and was Master of Death, maybe it wasn't actually all that impressive.

"Yep," he agreed cheerfully, and began ticking them off on his fingers. "Storm agreed to play, and Beast, and Wolverine, Angel, Banshee, Havok, Nightcrawler, um…"

"'Gainst all de students? Ain't dat a bit unfair?" Remy asked with a grin, but his gaze was fixed on the slowly untangling mass of black hair in front of him, and if Harry kept making little humming purrs of contentment like that then he wouldn't be responsible for his actions.

Stretching gracefully, Teddy snorted and shot the mutant an incredulous look. "Unfair for who? We've got Iceman and Pyro, not to mention Colossus. And we outnumber them four to one."

Remy thought about pointing out that Ororo controlled the weather, and Harry—Oracle, to most of the students—could see the future, and that Logan was both pissy and Canadian and therefore best avoided when there was anything to do with snow. After a moment, though, he decided that, seeing as both of his lovers would be participating, and one was sitting right in front of him—though admittedly only half-conscious—it would be better to hold his peace and let Teddy learn from experience. So he simply nodded and pulled Harry's hair back into a simple tail, twisting the white ribbon into a neat bow.

"Der ya be, chèri," he said, patting Harry's shoulder and leaning forward to press a swift kiss to his temple. "Be ya ready ta go mashin' de students inta de groun'?"

The glazed look had left Harry's eyes by now, having given way to the half-pot of coffee the wizard had inhaled, and he turned to offer Remy a quick, grateful smile. "I'd be happier if you were joining us," he murmured, hooking a hand around the back of the Cajun's neck and pulling him forward for a slower, sweeter kiss on the lips.

Teddy made quiet gagging noises in the background, tilting his chair onto one leg as if to get away from them.

Without looking, Harry kicked out with one foot and neatly tipped the chair over, and Teddy went spilling to the floor with a thump and a startled yelp. Harry smiled benevolently and kissed Remy again, pointedly making it linger. When they pulled apart, he smiled again and said cheerfully, "Come on, Remy. Don't you want to use this excuse to get revenge on a few of the more troublesome students, in a way that they volunteered for?"

"As temptin' as dat be—" Remy gave him another quick kiss and then stepped away, grinning at the wizard's soft sound of disgruntlement "—Remy be a creature a' warm climates, cher. Der be more fun ways a' freezin' ta deat', hm?"

Harry simple shook his head and let him go, depositing his mug in the sink and then heading back to their bedroom to get dressed. "Coward," he called back. "You're just scared a student will get the better of you." He reemerged a second later in jeans and a thermal shirt, carrying his coat, hat, and gloves, a slightly wicked smile firmly in place. "Come on, Remy. Even if you do get beaten into the snow, I'll be sure to warm you up afterwards."

"Oh, yuck." Teddy made a face, forcing himself to his feet and bolting for the exit. "Gross, guys! It's like hearing my parents talk about getting it on. Stop that!" The door slammed firmly behind him, then opened a second later, and he glared at both of them. "Entrance hall. Five minutes. No nookie!" It slammed again, and his footsteps retreated down the hall.

Remy and Harry exchanged amused glances, and the wizard snorted softly in amusement. "I don't know whether to be flattered that he thinks of us as his parents or offended that he thinks we'd take advantage of him leaving to shag," he said, shaking his head.

"Little a' bot'?" Remy suggested, then looked at his lover and the warm promise in his eyes, and sighed. "Guess dat ah be comin' wit' ya, den?"

"Coming? Definitely." Harry's smile was utterly innocent, so long as one didn't know him well. He leaned forward, fingertips resting ever so lightly on Remy's chest, and murmured softly in his ear, "But that should wait for later, when we're alone, shouldn't it? I do so like to take my time."

A bolt of lust blindsided Remy, shocking him all the way to his toes, and he narrowed his eyes at the smiling wizard, even as his body expressed enthusiastic interest. "'Arry, mon amor, dat be unfair now."

Harry simply chuckled at him, then pulled on his scarf and hat, tucking his gloves into the pocket of his coat. "See you in the Entrance Hall," he said serenely, and breezed out of the room.

Remy stared after him for a moment, and then chuckled softly. Three years in this time, almost half a year before that, and it was still just like the first time they had met—or better, because they knew each other now, as well as any two people ever could.

Sighing, he willed away his desire and went to find his coat.

"You weren't even trying, were you?" Teddy accused, squatting down next to his godfather in the snow. Harry was seated serenely on a rock the students had designated as their prison, calmly braiding his hair. At his guard's words, he simply smiled enigmatically.

"You're young yet," he said kindly. "Someday you'll understand."

Teddy shot him an incredulous look. Usually, he found Harry's utter tranquility somewhat soothing, especially after seven years at Hogwarts and two years living with the Weasleys. Now, though, it was simply frustrating, and intimidating. It didn't help his nerves, either, that Harry had that farseeing look in his eyes that came with the use of his powers. Which, admittedly, was fair, as everyone else was using their powers, too, but it was still a bit eerie. And annoying. He rolled his eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. "Understand what? That you'd rather sit off to the side and watch as your team gets clobbered?"

The older wizard smiled at him, eyes all but twinkling. "If you prefer to see it that way, by all means, go ahead. I, however, like to think of it as taking a breather to advance my strategy." He was silent for a moment, fingers weaving steadily through his hair, and when he spoke again, his voice was serious. The gleeful serenity was replaced with quiet concern. "How are you adjusting, Teddy? I know that we're not related by blood any more than you are to the Weasleys, but…do you feel at home here? Is there anything I can do to help with that?"

Teddy thought about it, tracing nonsense patters in the snow, and then shrugged. "We're…I don't know. It's just, you always say Dad was like a really close uncle to you, and the only one of the Marauders left for most of the War. I grew up with Grandma or one of the Order members telling me about you every night before I went to sleep. Not just that you were a hero, but how human you were, no matter what you had to do. Sometimes, I feel like I know more about you than I do about myself, or my real parents. And even if you were never there, I knew you were my godfather, and that you were…somewhere, doing what you had to."

He looked away and wrinkled his nose, morphing it to a beak-like protuberance that was eerily similar to Snape's. "When Hermione got that letter back from you, I thought she was going to cry. But…all I wanted, from the instant she said who it was from, was to find you. You're family. That's…that's just all it is."

Harry smiled at him, then reached out and pulled the Metamorphmagus close to him, tucking him against his side with an arm around the boy's shoulders. "I never got to choose my family before," Harry said softly, chuckling slightly, "but I'm very glad that I got to choose you." He released Teddy before the other wizard could get any more embarrassed, and offered him one hand with a grin. "How about we make it official? Family?"

Teddy grinned back, used to his godfather's oddities and strange actions, and accepted the hand, shaking it firmly. "Family. Forever."

"Oh, lovely," Harry said brightly, and hit the ground. Half a heartbeat later, a large, well-packed snowball smacked Teddy square in the face and sent him reeling back with a yelp. Never one to waste an opportunity, Harry darted out of the way of the next two projectiles and ducked down beside Logan as the Canadian mutant dropped behind a snow bank.

"Did you come just to rescue me?" he asked warmly, and leaned over to kiss Logan swiftly, his grin wide. "My hero."

Logan grinned back, teeth bared ferociously. "Hell, it'd be bad form if we let the kids keep our team mascot. You get through that little heart-to-heart you were havin', then?"

With a flurry of loose snow and a crow of triumph, Remy skidded in to join them behind their sheltering embankment. Harry rolled his eyes and wiped the slush off his face, casting a reproving look at his lover. Ignoring that, the Cajun simply leaned over and gave each of them a not-so-quick kiss.

"We gonna spen' all day doin' dis?" he asked as he and Logan drew apart, each slightly more breathless than they had been a moment before. His eyes were sparking with purple-red power, and the snowball in his hand echoed it. "'Cause ah for one can t'ink o' a lot a t'ings ah'd rat'er be doin', frankly."

Logan chuckled and pulled the Cajun down as another snowball went whizzing by their heads. "Do those 'things' involve a bed, Gumbo? 'Cause if they do, I'm all for it."

Harry shot them both looks of fond exasperation. "Really, can you two think of nothing else? And please, don't answer that." He waved a hand at them, beckoning them towards him, and they leaned in closer. "Here, I've an idea. Are you up for a little head-on confrontation?"

Slowly, as he whispered, all three faces took on identical wicked grins, and they slipped off in opposite directions.

"Oh, that's just not fair," Bobby muttered, staring at his smiling, ever-so-benign teacher, who stood across the snow from him. Oracle's green eyes were warm and full of a terrifying mischief, and he stood with his hands clasped at waist level, a pose that Bobby recognized from when he had thrown one of the Brotherhood who liked to start fires into a walk-in freezer—and then "forgot" to mention him for an hour.

Oracle just smiled at him. "Come on, Bobby, where's your team spirit? Aren't you going to try and capture me again? After all, you managed it once before."

Bobby wanted to whimper. Oracle was terrifying, in the way that very pretty, very (very, very, very) dangerous things were. Teddy had warned them about trying to get in his way, saying that as Oracle's godson, he was the best one to face him. And even then, they were all rather certain that Oracle had allowed himself to be captured before.

But this was training. Bobby sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He'd wanted to be an X-Man for years, and if he managed to beat Oracle in a fair fight, there was a chance that he would be considered for the team. A slim chance—about as slim as his chance of actually beating Oracle—but still there.

He lashed out with one hand, and the snow whirled up and then down in a swamping wave, crashing over the place where Oracle was standing. He wasn't standing there anymore, but Bobby hadn't expected him to be. And Oracle might have been able to see three moves ahead, but Bobby was the ice all around them, and he could tell where the professor was as soon as he set foot on the snow. Bobby whipped around, ready to follow the older man with his snow and ice, and walked straight into an invisible wall.

"Ouch!" he yelped, even as the snow outside of the wall collapsed. He sat up rubbing his head, and glared at the slim, smiling professor just outside what he could now see was a faintly glowing dome. Oracle tapped his temple, smile firmly in place.

"Very good, thinking ahead the way you did," he complemented. "But you didn't move, and you forgot about my other talents. Because you remained in one place, I was able to drop a shield around you. While you don't want to surrender ground in a fight, you don't want to stake out a portion to defend with your life, either." He dismissed the barrier with a flick of his hand, took the strip of red cloth that marked Iceman as a participant, and offered Bobby a hand up, smile benevolent.

Bobby just glared at him, sighed, and slumped back into the snow. "That's an out, right?"

"I believe it is." Oracle adjusted his gloves with a thoughtful frown, eyes distant, and then smiled. "Don't worry, though. It's almost over. Storm and her team just captured your base and freed the prisoners, and Mr. Allerdyce and Teddy…well." His smile widened slightly, and he chuckled. The sound sent a shiver of horror streaking up Bobby's spine. "Wolverine and Gambit appear to be in position. This will all be over shortly."

With a groan, Bobby thunked his back against the snow and cursed Teddy Lupin for his bright ideas.

Teddy swore softly, bucking behind a bank of winter-bare trees to avoid being seen by Logan. Why had he suggested Logan play, again? He'd already taken out nearly ten students singlehandedly, and that was just not fair. Even Harry hadn't gone that all-out on the students.

Taking a deep breath, Teddy drew back a little further and closed his eyes, concentrating. The rest of the students and staff had accepted him as a shapeshifter, like the Brotherhood's Mystique, and, like Harry, he hadn't seen fit to correct them. The school was awesome, in a way Hogwarts had never been, because people were actually supposed to be different here. As a Metamorphmagus—not to mention the son of two war heroes and the godson of the missing Savior—Teddy had never been able to be a normal student. Here, he just…was. He could definitely see why his godfather had stayed.

His features shifted smoothly, hair growing longer and shifting color, skin changing, the bones in his face and body rearranging. A moment later, he let out the breath he had been holding and stood, striding out of the copse of dormant trees with the easy, long-legged grace he had practiced for hours to get right.

"Logan," he called, and it was soft and throaty, the change extending all the way to his vocal cords. Wolverine looked up as he approached and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Storm?" he asked gruffly, releasing his hold on Kitty's arm and taking her marker. Kitty made a face at him and climbed to her feet, grumbling. She looked at Teddy and had just opened her mouth to say something when Logan lunged forward in a spray of snow, tackling Teddy to the ground. Teddy swore as the Canadian mutant snagged his marker from his jacket, and sat back with a sharp grin. "Hey, kid. Havin' fun?"

Teddy glared at him, letting his features shift back to normal as he scowled. "How the hell did you know it was me? The change was perfect!"

Logan tapped the side of his nose, his grin widening. "The nose knows, bub. You smell like gingerbread and leaves, not electricity and rain."

Sighing, Teddy let his head drop back into the snow, his mind already racing to come up with a way to replicate a person's personal smell, on top of their looks and mannerisms. Maybe a potion that masked smell completely? Or made people smell what they thought they should? The only problem with that idea was the fact that he had inherited his mother's potion-making skills along with her Metamorphmagus abilities. He was more likely to blow up the mansion than create anything functional.

"Don't worry about it, Teddy," Kitty consoled, dropping down to sit next to him. Her smaller hand was warm against his skin, and when she smiled, Teddy felt his heart beat just a little faster. "I couldn't tell it wasn't Storm. You even got her walk perfect. That's amazing."

Okay, Teddy allowed, grinning at her even as he felt his face flushing. Maybe getting beaten isn't entirely bad.

Harry collapsed on the bed and immediately crawled back under the covers, shedding layers as he went. Remy, slower at stripping but still right behind him, laughed and shook his head.

"Dat be more fun den Remy be expectin'," he admitted, grinning at Logan, who was watching their mad dash for the bed with fond, exasperated amusement. "But when ah said der were mo' fun ways a freezin' ta deat', dat not be what ah was meanin'."

Logan chuckled, slowly stripping off his coat and flannel shirt. "Hey, Gumbo, you were the one that started that little victory celebration, not me. But you had fun anyway, didn't you?"

"You're both horrible." Harry's voice emerged from under the pile of blankets. "It was cold. Sex outside is fine in summer, but the next time one of you has an idea like that, I'm leaving for Aruba."

Remy laughed, sliding into bed beside him and wrapping the wizard in his arms, even as Logan joined them and pulled both men closer to him. "Oh, cher, dat be no fair wit'out us. Sex on da beach be much mo' interestin' den sex in de snow."

"I don't know," Logan said, mock-thoughtfully. His eyes were wicked. "I kind of like the snow."

One green eye turned to glare at him. "You're Canadian. Your opinion counts for nothing. I vote beach-sex."

With a chuckle, Remy pulled the covers back up, burying the wizard completely. "Go ta sleep, chèri. It still be mornin' by your counts, non?"

"Hm. Yes. Lovely, lovely morning." Harry burrowed down, pressing against both of them, and closed his eyes. "Wake me up when—you know what? Don't. Whoever wakes me up gets turned into a frog."

Logan and Remy exchanged amused glances, and then settled down on either side of him for sleep. "Goo' mornin', den," Remy said cheerfully.

"Oxymoron," Harry muttered.

Logan just laughed.