The voting is still on!
Right now, Mpreg is more than a possibility and it appears as though there'll be a romance between Lydia and Jordan!
I was thinking I could write a separate story for Mpreg. Like a short sequel. I think that'd be okay, right?
I hope you'll enjoy this, since there's a little treat for you in this chapter. Something I know you've all been waiting for.
Again, thanks to Fitz-Leo for making this chapter readable!
Enjoy!
Ps. Just to warn you, Liam won't appear in this story. While I like him enough to coo over him in the series, I still think that his appearance was merely planned to support Scott's role as an alpha, which is entirely unnecessary in this story, so he won't be appearing, okay?
Great!
Let's go on with the story.
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"We have not touched the stars,
nor are we forgiven, which brings us back
to the hero's shoulders and the gentleness that comes,
not from the absence of violence, but despite
the abundance of it."
-Richard Siken, 'Crush'
cut
Stiles huffed before glancing over his shoulder at Scott, Kira and Lydia who sat one next to the other in the row behind the human teen. Earlier, when they came to school, Scott informed Stiles that he had already sent a message to Harry, Peter and Derek about the meeting he wanted to have at Deaton's place after they're done with classes.
Stiles wasn't an idiot. He knew something was up the moment he met up with them and looked in their eyes. They knew something he didn't, and it annoyed him, borderline angered him because they refused to say anything before they all met up, Scott saying that he didn't want to repeat himself more times than it was necessary and that this way they would be able to think of something together.
Another thing that annoyed Stiles was the surprising amount of new students that arrived to Beacon Hills, although it was more concerning than annyoing. He already sent a message to his dad with the names of the students, and John answered that he and Jordan would check them out.
Even though Stiles knew that answers would come soon enough, it didn't exactly make him feel any better. He knew something was wrong, but what he didn't know was what, and since he didn't know that he didn't know how to prepare.
Sure, he had Scott, Lydia and Kira behind him, and in a way he knew they wouldn't allow something bad to happen to him, but Stiles hated not knowing what to expect. So it didn't come as a surprise to the other three when Stiles didn't speak a word to them throughout the day, even though he remained close to at least one of them, his silence concerning and quite surprising to the other teens.
Even though they never spoke of that to Stiles, they knew that he was still in some way affected by what happened to him, although they decided to give him time, to wait until he was ready to speak to them about the Nogitsune and what he had witnessed.
Unfortunately, Stiles was either a really good actor or he had the self-control of a rock, because for the life of them, they couldn't read him.
That changed since Harry came around. Stiles' reactions were more open. No one knew what he and Harry talked about in the hospital, but it appeared to have had an effect on Stiles, the teen standing straighter, no longer bursting with excessive energy as he did weeks ago, once again showing the super-intelligent, hyperactive teen he once was, only now he was hardened by what they lived through, more serious and - in many ways - stronger, even though Stiles himself maybe couldn't see that strength.
Scott knew that he wouldn't be there without Stiles.
Lydia knew that she wouldn't have made it without Stiles.
Kira? Well, she didn't know him as much as the other two, but Stiles accepted her without a word, and she knew that they maybe wouldn't have defeated the Nogitsune if it weren't for Stiles' analytical thinking and logic.
Not even Lydia figured out the illusion while Stiles did, and that saved not only his life but their lives as well.
And they could see.
They could see the bond appearing between Stiles and Derek. Scott could smell Derek and Stiles, and it was painful. It was so, so painful. Stiles and Derek deserved one another. They were each strong in their own right, and Scott knew that Stiles was the sole reason behind Derek finally opening up and letting them all in.
And that was why the knowledge they were now keeping from Stiles felt like thousands of knives stabbing into their hearts.
Because they knew that if they don't manage to find a way to save Derek, if they don't find a way to stop this ritual - stop Kate - they would - Stiles would lose Derek.
And Kira, Lydia and Scott weren't sure Stiles would survive that. He had survived a lot of things by now, but they weren't sure he would survive losing Derek.
And that was why they hated Kate more than they thought it was possible.
And why they would stop her once and for all, no matter what it would take.
cut
Peter walked into Harry's room in the Stilinski residence, coming to a slow stop in the doorway, two cups of steaming coffee carefully held in his hands, eyes the color of cloudy skies reflecting on the surface of a frozen lake taking in the form sitting in a wooden chair by the window, shadowed emerald orbs staring out into the distance.
It appeared as though Harry hadn't noticed Peter enter since he neither moved nor changed his stance, tense shoulders remaining slightly hunched, strong arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles, feet tucked under the chair, and his head was slightly ducked, fringe falling into those enchanting, soul-searing eyes, casting shadows over viridian depths which spoke so many things and yet showed nothing at all.
Peter breathed in through his nose walking over to Harry while placing both cups on the window pane, finding out that Harry actually did notice him enter when the wizard glanced at him minutely, rosy lips curling into a faint smile that disappeared as fast as it came.
They have been silent for the past two or three hours, alone in the big house since Derek went back to his apartment after taking Stiles to school and John went to work. They hardly talked before, both succumbing to tiredness and all but collapsing on the bed, waking up only a couple of hours later with Peter curled around Harry, the sound of a hardly audible steady growl rumbling in his chest echoing through the room and vibrating against Harry's back.
They hadn't spoken a word since they woke up, the thoughts of Derek's condition weighing heavily upon them, especially after receiving a message from Scott to meet up at Deaton's place.
"How am I supposed to tell him?" Harry muttered into his chin, and Peter would have thought that Harry wasn't even aware of speaking out loud if the wizard didn't raise his head slowly and looked up at the werewolf with shadows swirling in emerald depths. "How am I supposed to tell him that there's nothing we can do?"
Peter pressed his teeth together tightly, not having an answer to Harry's question, the fact that there was a chance he would lose Derek in a short amount of time weighing on him like a ton of bricks on top of a god-damn mountain.
"And Stiles…" Harry looked out the window again, swallowing thickly, and Peter heard the wizard's heartbeat stutter and air hitch within Harry's lungs; remembering the way Stiles and Derek acted around one another last he had seen them together. Their relationship obviously changed, and Peter hated the fact that they had nothing but bad news to tell them.
He didn't want to know how Harry felt though. His wizard always felt things on a deeper level than Peter. Harry was always more sympathetic, more emphatic, feeling things other people felt in ways Peter couldn't even imagine. It always made him wonder how Harry came to be a deputy, even more how he managed to be an Unspeakable because Harry had seen horrible things.
He has done horrible things, Peter recalled, hands clenching into fists by his sides. He still didn't know everything Harry lived through in the past ten years, and he wasn't sure he wanted to either. It was enough for him to look at Harry to know that whatever happened to him was more than horrible, the obvious - at least to Peter - signs of trauma making him want to resurrect every single bastard that ever tortured or in any other way hurt Harry just to kill them in the most creative way possible.
Well… Peter never said he was entirely sane, right?
"What am I supposed to do?" Harry wondered quietly, voice laced with sorrow and pain, and Peter narrowed his eyes at Harry, lowering himself to his knees and taking Harry's hands between his. The wizard gave Peter his full attention, amazed at how attentive and supporting Peter was being.
"You are not supposed to do anything, Harry," Peter spoke, staring straight into the emerald orbs, squeezing Harry's hands for emphasis. "We - all of us - will think of something. We'll find Kate. We'll find a way to save Derek. You will do nothing on your own, do you understand me?" He cocked eyebrows at Harry, eyes boring into those viridian depths as though he was attempting to put his point across with nothing but his gaze.
"You're not alone, Ry," the wolf spoke in a voice hardly above a whisper, feeling the shiver that shook Harry's body at the nickname he hadn't heard in over ten years, "and you don't have to do anything on your own anymore."
"But what if it's something only I can do?" Harry murmured looking down at their joined hands, marveling at the fact that Peter's felt calloused and rough, radiating comforting warmth and offering quiet strength, just like Harry remembered they did before.
"You won't be alone," Peter answered and Harry looked into his eyes, staring into them for a long moment and Peter had a feeling his maybe-lover was reading his mind, although he knew Harry wasn't.
Harry promised Peter a long time ago that he would never, under any circumstance read Peter's mind without explicit permission, and Harry was not one to break promises. A small smile tugged at Peter's lips when he remembered that one time Harry proved just how much he tried to keep the promises he gave, going out of his way to make sure he didn't fail the people he cared about.
"What are you thinking about?" Harry asked when Peter smiled and the werewolf shook his head, looking down at their hands as he wrapped his left around Harry's right wrist, turning the wizard's hand palm up.
Peter raised his right hand and traced the lines of Harry's palm with the tips of his fingers, familiarizing himself again with the soft, warm skin.
"Just remembering the time you promised Cora and Derek that you'd take them to the ocean," Peter murmured into his chin, licking his lips as he huffed before looking up, eyes glimmering with memories. "You stayed at the station until four AM after taking double shifts two days in a row."
"I remember," Harry whispered as he recalled the memory Peter spoke off. "It was Cora's birthday that weekend, and Talia and Sebastian couldn't make it. Laura didn't trust her driving skills enough to take you all to the ocean, and you've lost your driver's license because of speeding."
"Right," Peter nodded minutely, shifting his gaze to Harry's hand again, flattening their palms as though he was measuring their hands.
"You came straight to the house from work. You didn't even change from your uniform. You actually managed to trick us all into thinking that you actually managed to get some sleep the day before," Peter laughed brokenly, shaking his head. "We spread out the blankets on the beach and I went to buy us all something to drink," he raised his head and looked at Harry, eyes glowing with the warmth of fond memories and lips tilted up in a loving, teasing smile, "and when I came back Cora and Derek were already in the water and you were sleeping in the shade of the parasol. I remembered debating for almost fifteen minutes whether I should take your clothes off or not."
"If I remember correctly, you did come to that, even though I don't know how," Harry chuckled and Peter huffed.
"It wasn't easy," he drawled and looked up at Harry with a smirk tilting his lips, left eyebrow cocked teasingly. "You're heavy when you're relaxed."
"Bastard!" hissed the wizard, hand slapping Peter's shoulder while the werewolf snickered quietly.
Comfortable silence settled between them as Peter kept looking at their hands, feeling Harry's eyes racking over the werewolf's kneeling form.
"Do you think we'll ever have that again?" Harry was the first to speak up and Peter looked up at him, finding the wizard looking at their hands with a wistful expression, eyes darkening with wanting and need.
"Do you want us to have that again?" the werewolf asked and Harry raised his head a bit, their eyes meeting in a meaningful stare.
Instead of answering, Harry pulled his hand from between Peter's, cupping the werewolf's face with a gentle touch as he leaned forward. He hesitated for a brief moment with his face inches away from Peter's, Harry's warm breath fanning over the werewolf's cheeks, something very familiar coiling in the pit of his stomach.
Peter's heart beat just a bit faster, air catching when Harry closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Peter's in a soft, chaste kiss, as though he was testing the waters. Peter's hands flattened on Harry's thighs, feeling the muscles flexing as he tightened his hold.
The werewolf suppressed a growl when he felt Harry trace the seam of his bottom lip with the tip of that nimble tongue, and Peter opened his mouth, taking control of the kiss, drawing a moan from Harry who dug his fingers into the tender skin behind Peter's ears as though to hold him in place.
Acting on pure instinct and reflex, Peter slid his hands up Harry's thighs and took a firm hold of slightly rounded hips, pulling the wizard out of the chair and down to straddle Peter's thighs. The yelp Harry let go of turned into a choked up grunt when Peter dug his right hand in the raven strands on the back of Harry's head, holding the wizard in place as he deepened the kiss, his left hand spreading on the small of Harry's back, fingers teasing against the waistband of Harry's trousers.
"Pete… Peter, we shouldn't…" Harry warned, breathless and squirming in the hold of his lover.
The werewolf stopped the words from flowing down Harry's lips by slamming his over them in a demanding kiss, his hands falling to Harry's ass half a second before he jabbed his hips up, making Harry feel Peter's growing erection, startling a moan from the wizard, especially since the action made Harry rub his own hardening cock against Peter's stomach, warmth coiling in his stomach, his brain threatening to shut down.
"Why?" Peter bit out as he rolled his hips sharply as he nipped down Harry's chin, the wizard wrapping his arms around Peter's shoulders, blunt nails digging into the flexing muscles of Peter's back. Harry threw his head back with a soundless gasp, eyes snapping open only to slide closed when Peter bit into the quickly pumping jugular vein hard enough to leave a mark but not to pierce skin.
Harry really, really tried to find a reason why they shouldn't be doing this. Unfortunately - or fortunately - nothing came to mind, Harry's thoughts becoming blank for the first time in a long, long while as Peter groped his ass, manipulating Harry's body into grinding down against him.
Peter growled when Harry's tight, black button up shirt came in the way of him leaving more marks on that perfect, warm skin, and in the next moment Harry found himself on his back, faintly hearing the chair he has been sitting in clattering against the floor before he was distracted again by that pair of devilish lips meeting his, their teeth clacking and tongues pushing against one another, Harry's hands tangling in Peter's hair, every single piece of self-control, every single ounce of doubt and fear escaping into to back of his mind, giving place to need, passion and scorching, soul-searing desire.
Peter moved back, taking hold of the collar of Harry's shirt only to tear it open, descending down upon Harry again before the wizard could complain, leaving those swollen lips seconds later in favor of littering kisses and nips down leanly defined chest.
Harry let go of a choked up, strained gasp when blunt teeth bit into one hardened nipple before soothing it with a rough tongue, big warm hands roaming his sides, callused fingers tracing the outlines of Harry's abs and ribs.
The wolf was howling in the back of Peter's head, demanding that he marks their mate before something else came between them to make an attempt to take Harry away from them again, but Peter pushed that thought away, ignoring his wolf's displeased grumbling, because he knew Harry wouldn't accept the mating mark at this point.
But this Harry would accept.
And Peter would make sure of that.
Harry hit his head back against the floor when Peter trailed kisses down the wizard's stomach, one hand slipping up Harry's straining torso to tease one nipple as Peter nibbled on one jutting hip-bone, leaving a bright red mark there, knowing it would drive Harry absolutely insane.
And he wasn't wrong.
Harry's right hand was already wrapped around Peter's left wrist, the wizard's right hand fisted in Peter's hair pushing against it as though Harry didn't know if he wanted Peter to move away or move lower.
With a dark chuckle full of promises which went over Harry's head completely, the werewolf pressed his right hand against the bulge in Harry's trousers, eyes turning electric blue as he looked up, watching Harry arch his torso off of the floor with a guttural groan mixed with a mewl, the wizard planting his feet into the floor, thighs pressing against Peter's shoulders.
Tucking his fingers under the waistband of Harry's trousers, Peter gave them a sharp tug, the material tearing apart under his strength, and the sound which left Harry's lips couldn't be named or described as he collapsed against the floor, breathing as though he couldn't fill his lungs with enough air.
Peter climbed over him, Harry's right hand falling out of tousled brown locks to hit the floor above Harry's head, the wizard moaning when lush lips covered his, nimble fingers slipping under his boxers to wrap around his aching member, smearing the pearly beads of pre-come over the head of his cock before tugging on it slowly, making every single muscle in Harry's body coil.
Peter let go of a guttural groan as he wrapped his lips around the slowly bobbing Adam's apple of Harry's neck, feeling the shiver which wrecked Harry's body, and Peter pressed his tongue against it, tasting salty, tender skin, his heart clenching at the obvious show of trust, because it would take so little effort - so little effort - to move his mouth just a bit to the left and dig his teeth into that tender skin, marking Harry as his forever.
But no.
There was too much between them, too many unsolved things, and despite the wolf howling in the back of Peter's mind, despite his own need and desire, Peter wouldn't do that to Harry.
Not before he was certain that the wizard would stay of his own free will.
Peter seemed to have lingered for too long, because in the next moment the werewolf was on his back, dilated emerald orbs staring down at him with a fire such as he had never seen in them, and Peter's eyes widened when he heard a low, reverberating purr echoing through the thick silence of the room.
It didn't take long for Peter to figure out what happened.
This was the Panther. He was staring in the eyes of the merciless killer Harry was forced to become, the apex predator, the lone hunter, and Peter suddenly realized that he has become prey.
Peter growled, baring his teeth, and Harry answered with a sharp hiss, pupils blown with only a thin line of luminescent green around it, almost no whites to be seen in those eyes staring at Peter as though Harry was about to devour him.
Harry loomed over Peter, hands with steadily sharpening nails settling on Peter's shoulders, slowly slipping down to his chest before they ripped into the thin material of Peter's shirt, tearing it apart. Peter wrapped his hands around Harry's wrists and tugged them away from his chest, pulling Harry forward until their faces were inches apart.
"Down, kitty," Peter growled and Harry purred deeply, arching his torso into Peter's, rubbing their groins together, and Peter hummed, rolling his hips up.
Harry seemed beyond the point of answering with words, and Peter felt a spark of excitement surge up his spine when he felt sharpening eye-teeth scrape against his neck, a growl rumbling in his chest. His eyes widened when Harry purred nuzzling his cheek against Peter's chest, soft raven strands tickling burning skin before Harry raised his head, smirking up at Peter as he started to move lower.
The werewolf cocked an eyebrow, for some reason trying to pretend as though he wasn't painfully hard, and he let go of Harry's wrists, grunting and hissing when those sharp claws dug into his skin, leaving behind quickly healing, diagonal cuts as Harry slipped lower and lower until he reached the obvious tent in Peter's pants.
Purring growing louder, Harry's eyes glimmered, and Peter choked up when those succulent lips closed around the head of his cock, feeling the warmth and wetness of Harry's mouth even through his trousers and briefs.
Harry moved back, tilting his head to the side like the overgrown cat that he - apparently - is, and Peter could only gasp when a ripple of magic passed over him, leaving him gloriously naked in front of the wizard.
"You never were patient," Peter blurted out breathlessly, the sudden shock of cold air on the skin of his hard, hot flesh making his body tense up. With a determined grunt Peter flipped them over again, cutting off the displeased hiss Harry let go of by slamming his lips against Harry, moaning when those sharp fangs pierced his lips, making him taste blood.
Balancing his weight on his knees, Peter tucked his fingers inside Harry's boxers and trousers and tugged them down, moving back to remove the offending pieces of clothing. After a short struggle with them, Peter threw the trousers and boxers to the side only to curse vividly when Harry gave him the slip, his flexible spine curling and bending until the slighter man was no longer pinned beneath the werewolf. Cursing, Peter jumped to his feet unfortunately taking long enough for Harry to launch himself at the older man, both falling on the bed in a mass of tangled limbs.
Harry hissed up at Peter meeting eyes glowing electric blue as the wolf pinned Harry's wrists to the bed above the wizard's head, clicking his tongue several times as Harry snapped his teeth at him.
"Now, now," Peter drawled, nudging Harry's nose with the tip of his own, black slits glaring up at him as Harry hissed threateningly with bared teeth, "I know you're in there, Harry," he all but purred. "Show me those pretty eyes," Harry growled, bucking under Peter who chuckled and nipped lightly at the pale arch of Harry's neck. "You know you can't hide from the wolf." Peter felt Harry tense up under him when he buried his face under Harry's right ear, mouthing at the tender skin under his lips, his cock twitching when he felt Harry shiver beneath him.
"P - Peter?" Harry stuttered breathlessly, and if Peter wasn't a werewolf he wouldn't have caught it. He raised his head to look down at Harry, finding those familiar dilated eyes staring up at him, the wizard having successfully suppressed his counterpart into the back of his mind.
"Shhhhh…" Peter soothed lovingly, nuzzling his cheek against Harry's, placing a tender kiss against the right corner of Harry's kiss-swollen lips. "It's okay," he reassured Harry who stared at him in confusion, "that pesky panther though, might give me some trouble."
Harry breathed out sharply, laughing shortly as he shook his head. "I was being forced into submission for the good part of the past ten years," Harry murmured in a slightly strained voice. "I don't mind, but the panther part of me might struggle with this for a while."
Peter stared in Harry's eyes for a long moment, looking as though he was thinking hard about something. Not a moment later he moved back a bit, placing Harry's hands on his shoulders before he placed his own on Harry's hips and flipped them over, Harry's eyes widening when he found himself straddling Peter's hips.
"Peter, what are you-"
"It makes you uncomfortable when I'm on top-"
"No!" Harry insisted, cutting Peter off, but the werewolf would not be deterred.
"-and I really don't mind this." Harry choked up, a furious blush covering his cheeks as he stared down at Peter, blunt fingernails digging into strong muscles of Peter's shoulders. "Hey…" Peter murmured rubbing Harry's thighs, hips and sides, "I don't know what happened to you, but I do have enough brain-cells to figure out that it wasn't a walk in a park."
"But that doesn't mean…"
"I'm not letting you top-top," Peter drawled with a smirk, hands groping the firm globes of Harry's ass as the werewolf flicked his hips up a bit, drawing a startled gasp from the wizard, emerald eyes fluttering closed, "but I think you remember how much I loved it when you were on top."
The blush on Harry's face spread down his neck when he felt one finger teasingly circle the tight ring of muscle leading into him, and a quiet whimper escaped him when a shiver of warmth passed up his spine as something he hadn't felt in years coiled in his guts, his member twitching as Peter teased his hole lightly, rubbing soothing circles into Harry's right thigh with his left hand.
Peter watched as Harry's eyes slipped closed and the wizard bit into his bottom lip, stifling those quiet mewls Peter loved hearing. He remembered every single sound Harry would make, remembered every move of that perfect body straddling him, remembered where to touch and how to kiss and when to bite to work Harry slowly into a frenzy before letting the wizard fall over the edge.
"Pete-" Harry gasped out, right hand snapping around him to grab a hold of Peter's left wrist, stilling his actions, and for a moment Peter thought Harry would stop it all, but when those dilated emerald eyes opened, looking down at Peter with so many unnamed things shadowing those perfect orbs, Peter felt something clench around his heart.
Peter's mouth went dry when he felt something warm and gooey cover his left hand as Harry slowly leaned over him, pressing his lips against Peter's and pushing his tongue against the werewolf's, drawing a deep, guttural moan from him.
"GAH!" Harry gasped, flailing as he almost fell over Peter, bracing his hands on the either sides of Peter's head and fisting them in the cotton covers when Peter rubbed one finger against the wizard's entrance before slowly pushing it in until the first knuckle, feeling the tensing of Harry's body and the shiver which shook the strong form.
Peter pressed his teeth tightly together, staring at Harry's face to distract himself from the roaring need to do this as quickly as possible and bury himself within that constricting warmth.
But one thing was stopping him.
He remembered his first night with Harry as though it happened yesterday, and - as crude as this may sound - Harry wasn't this tight then.
Slipping his right hand up to cup the back of Harry's neck, he pulled the wizard down to connect their foreheads, teasing Harry into a kiss with nips and licks against plush, swollen lips. Harry gasped into Peter's mouth when that long finger pushed deeper into him, making Harry arch his torso into Peter's, spreading his hands over their heads, tugging on the covers to the point of almost tearing them.
"Fuck, Ry," Peter bit out, pulling Harry's head down until he hid his face in Peter's shoulder, giving the werewolf a chance to nip and kiss along the straining tendons of Harry's neck, feeling more than hearing the rapid beating of Harry's heart. "Didn't you…"
"No," Harry cut Peter off, raising his head a bit, resting his forehead against Peter's cheek, eyes closed and lips parted as he gasped for air, body slowly moving to the shallow thrusts of Peter's digit. "Not since that night… Not with anyone else…" he gasped out feeling Peter's hand tangling into messy, black strands as he raised his head, a sardonic smirk tilting Harry's lips, eyes filling with something akin to self-depreciation. "Not that - not that people did try-"
"Damn it!" Peter hissed, slamming his lips against Harry as he pushed his finger all the way in, swallowing the moan that escaped Harry, feeling the wizard's cock twitch where it was trapped between their stomachs. "Move up," Peter mumbled and Harry nodded, slowly climbing to his knees, and moving up only to cry out when Peter's right hand wrapped around Harry's straining cock.
Harry fumbled to grab a hold of Peter's wrists, throwing his head back when he felt Peter curl towards him, warm lips wrapping around the head of Harry's weeping member at the same time as Peter pushed his finger deeper into Harry's constricting heat.
The wizard felt fire slowly enveloping his body, igniting in the very center of his soul, scorching whatever coherent thought was still left in his mind. He could do nothing but feel, the sting of his entrance being penetrated fading in face of pleasure given to him by Peter's mouth and tongue.
Peter had a difficult time stopping himself from flipping them over and burying himself deep within the tight channel clamping around his finger, doing his best to concentrate on anything else, listening carefully to choked up gasps escaping Harry's lips, on the jerky motions of Harry's body, on the taste of Harry on his tongue, stomping down on the wolf's howls of 'mate', 'claim', 'knot' echoing through his mind.
Harry's scent was overwhelming him, pouring into Peter's every pore, etching itself into every atom of his being, wrapping around him like a pair of huge, soft wings as though hiding him from the world. It felt as though everything he did, every mistake he ever made was being washed out of him, the warmth burning away at what remained and creating him anew.
Harry cried out breathlessly when another finger entered him, and Peter twisted his wrist just right, sending a surge of almost forgotten pleasure through Harry's body, leaving him dangling on the very edge of his upcoming orgasm.
Peter opened his eyes, looking up at Harry, moaning around the thick length in his mouth at the sight of the wizard's arched torso, head thrown back with the sunlight breaking through the window behind Harry dressing him in an ethereal glow. Strands of raven hair danced around Harry's head, every single tendon in the wizard's neck straining, perfect skin tinting with a faint blush as passion and desire unraveled him fragment by fragment.
Feeling Harry's body slowly adjusting to the intrusion, Peter added another finger, his patience slowly running out, but his cock twitched and every muscle in his body tensed up when the wizard gasped, his head falling forward, eyes almost black with need looking down at Peter and taking his breath away.
He allowed Harry's hard length to slip out of his mouth, hitting his head back against the bed as he thrust his fingers in and out of Harry, twisting his right hand around Harry's member, staring up at the face of his mate, cutting it into his memory as though he wanted to make sure nothing would ever be able to erase it again.
"Pete… Please…" Harry breathed out, and Peter let go of a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a whine. The moment Peter's fingers slipped out of Harry and down to the werewolf's aching cock to spread what conjured lube was still left over it, Harry moved back, hardly able to keep himself on his knees, his hands landing on Peter's chest, fingers digging into hard muscles.
Peter placed his right hand on Harry's hip, aligning the head of his cock with Harry's entrance, but before Peter could do more - like try to make sure Harry didn't hurt himself - the wizard started lowering himself on the hot member, erasing all thought from Peter's mind and making air hitch in his chest.
Peter's hold on Harry's hips was certain to leave bruises, the werewolf's lips falling open as he curled towards Harry, eyes slipping closed as nails started turning into claws and teeth sharpened into fangs, jaw starting to jut out as the wolf threatened to take hold.
"Pete… Peter!" the werewolf's eyes snapped open and he breathed out, electric blue eyes staring up in dilated emerald orbs, rosy lips parted as Harry trembled on top of Peter, his nails digging into Peter's chest.
Without thinking about it Peter sat up, muffling the startled yelp of pain that escaped Harry by kissing him deeply, slipping his hands to Harry's waist and holding him in place, the wizard fisting his in Peter's sweat-matted hair.
Their lips remained connected, breaths mixing between them, eyes heavily lidded as they trembled within the other's hold.
Ten years…
Ten years of not being touched.
Ten years of loneliness.
Ten years of yearning for something.
And there they were now.
"Your wolf is showing," Harry breathed out, slipping his hands lower to trace the sharp edges of Peter's jaw with the tips of his thumbs, rubbing small circles in the back of Peter's head with his fingers.
Peter swallowed thickly rubbing his hands up and down Harry's sides, feeling the rhythmic clenching of the tight heat clamping down on his cock.
And yet he didn't want to move.
This moment… Peter didn't want it to end. He didn't want to let go of Harry. He wanted to stay right there forever, with this wizard he knew would be his until their deaths. He wanted to ignore everything else, let the world go on without them. He wanted for everything to leave them alone, leave them locked within this moment when everything seemed alright, even though it wasn't.
"I am never letting go of you again," Peter growled, sounding more like a beast than a man, hearing air hitch somewhere in Harry's throat, following a sound that was something between a whimper and a purr.
"I'm not going anywhere," Harry answered, voice broken and hardly louder than a whisper, and Peter couldn't hold back anymore.
He rolled his hips slowly, catching the gasp that escaped Harry, and the werewolf placed his hands on Harry's hips, helping him rise up a bit before pulling him down, the two quickly finding a slow rhythm, their bodies moving together as though they remembered this.
It was so easy, came so naturally, that it left them both breathless, Harry wrapping his arms around Peter's shoulders and resting his head on the side of Peter's, the werewolf's thrusts growing quicker as he grabbed a hold of that pert little ass, spreading the cheeks wider. He buried his nose under Harry's ear, breathing in the wizard's scent, knowing neither would last much longer.
Peter cursed under his breath when he felt his knot taking place, lifting Harry just a bit higher, jabbing into the tight heat with shallow thrusts, the head of his cock jamming into Harry's prostate, not wanting to hurt Harry by knotting him now.
Harry sensed it, and even through the haze pleasure he only remembered during the torturous ten years of his life, he moved back, placing his hands on Peter's chest and pushing the werewolf on his back. It happened so fast that it startled Peter, his hands slipping to quivering thighs, and his eyes widened when Harry bounced on top of him, the wizard throwing his head back before almost collapsing on top of Peter, barely managing to holding himself up by bracing his hands on his lover's chest, when the werewolf's knot passed the tight ring of muscle leading into Harry's warmth.
As though that was the only thing he needed, Harry tensed up, spilling pearly strings of come over Peter's stomach, and the werewolf choked down a howl when Harry's hot channel clamped down on him, milking him for all he was worth. Seconds later Peter was coming, his claws piercing pale skin and drawing a whimper from Harry whose whole body was tense and shivering, shoulders heaving with each deep breath he took as Peter's thick cum filled him, the knot making it impossible for it to spill out.
Getting a semblance of control over himself, Peter managed to open his eyes, his heart beating miles per minute only to stutter when he saw the whispers of pain in the lines of Harry's face, even though - if Peter wasn't paying close attention - he wouldn't have seen it.
"Idiot," he muttered, spreading his hands on Harry's thighs, not even noticing at that moment that the cuts he made with his claws already healed, leaving behind only smeared beads of blood.
Harry opened his eyes and breathed out only to see something black pumping through the veins on Peter's arms, and a small smile tilted the wizard's swollen lips, arms trembling with the effort to holding him up.
"Come here," Peter murmured as he took a hold of Harry's wrists and lightly tugged on them, and Harry lowered himself to rest on Peter's chest, sighing in content as he tucked his head under Peter's chin. "You know that you didn't have to do that," murmured the werewolf, wrapping his arms around Harry before he slipped his hands down to the small of Harry's spine, rubbing soothing circles into tense muscles, remembering that this helped Harry chase off the dull throbbing of having Peter's knot inside him.
"And you know that I never minded," Harry answered in a sated, drowsy voice, raising his head a bit to look in Peter's eyes, and even though there was a silly small smile tilting Harry's lips there was something akin to sadness in Harry's eyes, and Peter felt his heart clench within his chest.
But instead of saying something - because Peter knew what Harry was still thinking - he raised his left hand to cup the side of Harry's head and brought the wizard closer, pressing his lips against Harry's in a tender, loving kiss.
"Are you alright?" Peter murmured against those plum petals and Harry nodded as he swallowed thickly.
"The cuts already healed," he commented as though it was something normal and Peter recoiled, glancing down at Harry's right thigh, eyebrows meeting the line of his forehead when he saw that indeed, there was not a single trace of injury on pale skin, dusted with hardly visible short hairs.
"That's new," Peter muttered into his chin and Harry gave a noncommittal sound, resting his head on Peter's shoulder, and silence settled between them, the two breathing together, hearts beating calmly and bodies slowly coming down from the high.
"Peter we need to move," Harry spoke up after a few moments and Peter frowned, worried because of Harry's tight voice.
"What is it?" he asked as Harry rose up, Peter following, narrowed eyes racking over Harry's torso and face.
"Cramp, cramp, cramp!" blurted out the wizard in a hiss and Peter's eyes widened, and he quickly rolled them over, Harry immediately spreading his right leg while Peter placed his hand on the wizard's hip, massaging it slowly.
Moments later Harry sighed only to wince again when he felt the softening member slowly slip out of him, glancing up when Peter let go of a sigh of relief. Before Harry even had a chance to think about moving away, Peter wrapped his arms around him, throwing his left leg over Harry's and pulling the wizard as close as he could go, not seeing the way Harry's eyes widened in slight surprise but feeling the minute tensing of the wizard's body.
"We still have some time until we need to show up at the clinic," Peter muttered, deciding not to comment on it since Harry almost instantly relaxed against him. The werewolf felt a shiver of magic pass down his spine and he knew without needing to look that Harry had cast that tricky little spell to see the time.
Although he did have a question for the wizard.
"We have another hour until we need to move out," Harry answered and Peter hummed.
"Since when don't you need your wand?" he asked and Harry shrugged his shoulders lightly.
"I was forced to learn," he murmured. "It didn't work properly with the Collar so I had to learn how to use wandless magic completely otherwise I would have blown myself up. When I was in the headquarters of the Organization, I was allowed to use magic for as long as it wasn't aimed at anyone or anything. I learned to shift into my animagus form first, thinking I'd at least have a way out of pesky situations, but it turned out I couldn't. I was allowed no more than three spells per mission, and more often than not it took one to kill the target and the other two I'd use to either reach the target or get out of there. After a while I just started turning into the panther when my captors became annoying. They saw no sense intalking to an animal so they'd leave me alone."
Peter nodded minutely, closing his eyes as he pulled Harry closer, burying his nose in the wizard's hair and breathing in his scent now mixed with Peter's own, which pulled a small smile to Peter's lips. He was about to say something when he noticed the steady beating of Harry's heart and the slow rise and fall of Harry's shoulders, warm puffs of air tickling the skin of Peter's chest.
Huffing and shaking his head, Peter pulled Harry even closer, nuzzling his chin against the soft strands of hair, and closed his eyes, dozing off quickly enough.
cut
Scott, Stiles, Lydia and Kira walked into the clinic, the alpha sniffing the air discreetly, finding out that the others were already in the back room, so he locked the door behind them, turning the sign around so it said 'closed'.
He moved to the front of the group glancing at Stiles who had yet to say a word since that morning, the human teen lost in his own thoughts, most probably going through everything that happened trying to figure out what the other three were hiding from him.
They walked into the back room finding the adults of their group already sitting in their respective chairs. Their gazes immediately settled on Harry who gifted them all with a small smile, their eyes widening at the way the wizard seemed to be unconsciously gravitating towards Peter, sitting as close as he could to the werewolf without actually touching him.
And Peter appeared to be no different. He was sitting relaxed in his chair, long, lean legs crossed in front of him and his right arm resting on the back of Harry's chair, left hand cupped around one raised knee.
Harry's hands were clasped between his thighs, and he seemed to be having serious trouble with stopping his legs from hopping with excess energy.
"We're all here," Harry murmured, straightening in his seat and glancing towards Peter who sighed and sat up, crossing his arms over his chest and ducking his head a bit, his eyes glancing towards Derek who was staring at the ground with an unreadable stare.
"Why don't you take seats and we can begin," Deaton offered, and for a few minutes there was rapid movement in the room, everyone grabbing chairs from the waiting room and settling around, Stiles placing his chair between Derek and John, Lydia settling to Melissa's right with Kira placing her chair to Lydia's right, and Scott took his place to Harry's left.
The young alpha looked around the room, his gaze landing on Derek who frowned at Scott when he saw hesitance and smelled the fear and worry on the teen wolf.
"Scott, what is this about?" Derek asked, exchanging a glance with Stiles when he saw Lydia, Kira and Melissa look at Scott with almost matching pained expressions, his heart sinking into his stomach when he looked at Harry and found the wizard looking at him with dull, pain-filled eyes.
"There's a lot we need to talk about," Scott pressed out, not knowing how to just come out and say it.
"I've given the list of new people you've sent me to Jordan," John spoke up, looking at his son who nodded at him. "He'll have their backgrounds by tomorrow morning." The sheriff turned towards Lydia and the banshee sat straighter. "Jordan also said that he would like to check out the house of the wendigo to see if there's anything that could give us any clue about what we could be dealing with."
"I can go with him," Lydia offered and John nodded with a small smile.
"I thought you could. If I understand correctly, you can hear things," he spoke even though he didn't sound happy with asking this of Lydia. "I was hoping you could go with him and see if you two find something."
"I won't mind," Lydia answered, shifting in her seat a bit, her hands clasped in her lap.
"Harry, I would like you to come to the hospital with me," Melissa spoke up and Harry looked at her with a confused frown. "I'd like to do some tests on you to see what happened to you."
"There's no need for that," Harry answered, offering a small smile, strained as it was. "What happened to me was…" he hesitated, glancing towards Peter. A moment later he took a deep breath and shook his head. "The Nemeton sensed my power," he finally said and looked up, his gaze distant and not meeting anyone else's. "What happened is that… It offered me a deal."
"A deal?" questioned Stiles, staring at Harry with wide eyes full of poorly concealed curiosity. Stiles leaned forward with hands clasped between his thighs, legs hopping minutely until Derek placed his left hand on Stiles' right knee stilling him immediately, earning a sheepish smile from the human teen.
"Yes," Harry nodded before he took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, "The Nemeton would take everything - my scars, my injuries, my pain… the guilt," he glanced towards Peter who frowned at him, and Harry forced down a difficult swallow and looked at the ground, "and in exchange I would channel the Nemeton's power towards something useful so that it doesn't serve as a beacon anymore. The damage that has been done by now can't be undone. The creatures that are already moving towards Beacon Hills - and those that are already here - won't leave just because I'm grounding the Nemeton's power. But it won't be as wild anymore."
When Harry stopped talking and glanced at Derek, the werewolf tensed up, because it was obvious that there was something Harry didn't want to tell them.
"What else happened?" Peter was the one who spoke up and Harry looked at him, everyone frowning when they saw Harry's skin grow pale.
"It… The Nemeton also told me what's wrong with Derek - what Kate did to him." The silence that settled over the room after Harry said that was deafening with the group tensing up visibly while Harry's shoulders hunched at he looked at Derek and Stiles with pleading emerald eyes, as though he was already begging them to forgive him something that wasn't even his fault.
"The ritual Kate used on you - it is meant to purify humans, to erase their guilt, to strip them of all their strengths until only the bare truth remains," Harry spoke as though he was reciting, his voice tight and strained, and he swallowed thickly before meeting Derek's eyes, his own appearing dull and dead, as though he was trying to protect himself from the horror settling in Derek's and Stiles' wide eyes. "When that is revealed - when you lose all your power and become completely human - you will be weighed. If you are weighed worthy you will live," a shiver of excitement passed down everyone's back only to disappear with Harry's following words, "if not you will die."
One could hear a pin drop.
"What?" Stiles pressed out, utterly still, wide, fear-dilated honey orbs staring at Harry in pure horror, and the wizard felt like a clawed hand pierced his heart.
"Stiles, I swear to you on everything that I am that I will do everything in my power to save Derek, but I can't go against Deep Magic-"
"What do you mean you can't go against it?" the human teen jumped to his feet in rage and fear.
"Stiles-"
"No!" the teen's voice broke and he looked down at Derek, completely missing the werewolf's frightened expression as fear and horror gripped the human teen's heart. He looked at Harry again, frantic and borderline panicking, hands fisted by his sides, and the wizard appeared as though all strength was drained from him, facing the teen with nothing but resignation, knowing without needing to read Stiles' mind how he was feeling in that moment. "How do you mean you can't go against deep magic! You're a wizard! You are magic! You're supposed to be able to do everything!"
"I'm not omnipotent, Stiles!" Harry shouted, looking to the side with a huff before he looked at Stiles. "Humans are not meant to trifle with Deep Magic! It's old and powerful, and it demands a sacrifice! No witch or wizard has ever been able to use Deep Magic without paying a high price. In these days it can only be accessed in certain points of the world, La Iglesia being one of them and the Nemeton being another. Deep Magic has rules that cannot be broken. If anyone attempts it means certain death-"
"So what - we're - we're just supposed to wait?!" Stiles cried out, tears filling his eyes, whole body trembling, and all of a sudden Derek was on his feet pulling Stiles into his arms and wrapping them around the shivering form, the others appearing too stunned by Stiles' outburst to do anything, John sitting frozen in his place, the fact that his son was passing the same thing John did when he found out that Claudia was dying making his mind go blank.
Stiles sagged against Derek, hands fisting on the werewolf's back, and Derek buried his nose in Stiles' shoulder, breathing in his scent.
"Calm down," Derek murmured, voice tight and wavering. "We'll figure this out, just like we always do."
"How?" Stiles pressed out as he moved back and out of Derek's hold, flailing his arms as he looked at the other teens. "You knew about this! You found out and you didn't-"
"We didn't know how to tell you," Lydia spoke up, pale and in obvious shock, Kira avoiding Stiles' wide-eyed stare by ducking her head and Scott staring at his best friend with an apologizing look.
Harry looked at Peter when the werewolf placed his hand on the wizard's thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze, although who it was meant for was not something Harry knew.
"Stiles, you need to calm down," Derek said, even though it was quite obvious he was struggling as well, and the human teen looked at him, eyes Derek could stare in forever looking at him wide, glassy and pleading. "Panicking now will get us nowhere."
"But Derek-"
"Harry said that once I lose my power I will be weighed-"
"What does that even mean!" Stiles cut him off, voice cracking as he looked at Harry who swallowed thickly.
"It means that he will be judged," he answered in a deep, tight voice.
"By what?" the teen blurted out, glancing from Derek to Harry, and the werewolf knew that wheels were already turning in Stiles' head, the younger man trying to come up with something - anything that would save Derek.
"Tezcatlipoca," Harry answered, appearing worn down by everything. "The Mirror God will weigh Derek and determine if he is worthy of life."
"And what will be his arguments?" Stiles asked, hands hovering in the air as though he wanted to grab a hold of the werewolf and never let him go, but something was stopping him.
"His life," Harry answered, "everything he did, every choice he made, every opportunity he took and missed. Everything…"
The silence that settled among them was deafening, each sinking into their own thoughts.
"But the Nemeton told me another thing," everyone looked at Harry to find the wizard looking at Derek, the werewolf turning towards the older man, "I asked if there was any way to save you," Harry stopped to lick dry lips, and the werewolves could hear the mad beating of his heart. "The Nemeton said that what will save you is your heart."
"What does that mean?" Derek asked, looking at Stiles when the teen wrapped his right hand around Derek's left wrist as though he was afraid the older man would disappear at any moment.
"I don't know," Harry shook his head, "but I will find out." He looked straight in Stiles' eyes, feeling the tightening of Peter's hold on his thigh but ignoring it. "I was never one for following rules," a strained smirk tilted Harry's lips and a weak chuckle escaped him, "I will do my best to find a way to ensure that Derek survives this."
"But you said that one shouldn't-"
"Like I said," Harry cut Stiles off, his lips tilting up into a small smile, "I never did follow rules." The wizard turned to look at Peter finding the werewolf staring at him with a scrutinizing stare. "And I don't want to watch anyone I care about die if I can do something to help them."
"But you will need to be careful," Deaton spoke up for the first time since this conversation started and everyone looked at him, finding the Emissary staring at Harry with knowing eyes, as though it was obvious to him what Harry was intending to do, leaving everyone else guessing. "You know better than I do what it means to go against the rules of Deep Magic, Harry. It could mean your certain death."
While dread filled the hearts of everyone in the room, Peter, Stiles and Derek jumping to contradict whatever Harry wanted to say, the wizard merely chuckled, his eyes darkening and shoulders straightening, lips curling into a smirk that sent shivers even down Peter's spine.
"I have survived the killing curse twice, Alan," Harry drawled darkly, eyes turning luminescent green, "and I hate to lose. And while I do believe that Derek will beat this, that Tezcatlipoca will judge him as worthy, I will not leave it to chance. If I find a way to ensure Derek's survival, I will do it."
"Harry-"
"No, Peter," Harry pressed out, head snapping around to face Peter head on, "I'm not letting Derek-"
"I'm not saying that you should," Peter bit out. "He's my nephew. Do you really think I'd let him die?" he blurted out and Harry's eyes narrowed at him, the others falling silent, staring at the heated exchange.
"There's nothing you can do, Peter," Harry spoke, slowly shaking his head.
"That doesn't mean I can't help you. It doesn't mean you have to do anything alone," Peter answered, eyes turning electric blue for a mere second in an obvious show of dominance, which didn't pass unnoticed by anyone, the group of people tensing up when Harry's pupils turned to slits and he ducked his head a bit, even the humans in the room hearing the quiet, threatening growl as the panther showed its head.
Peter's jaw shifted as his eyes turned luminescent, the wolf showing in the steely gaze, neither backing off, the air filling with something heavy.
"Rein the cat in, Harry," Peter pressed out through his teeth, and it was as though he slapped Harry, the wizard recoiling a bit, blinking rapidly, a slight blush tinting his cheeks and making everyone breathe it, unaware that they were holding their breaths.
"This might propose a problem," Harry muttered into his chin, shifting in his seat a bit, knees pressing together as he looked away from Peter, eyebrows narrowing.
Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes, sitting back into his chair and throwing his right arm over Harry's shoulders, resting it on the back of Harry's chair.
"If anything it makes it more interesting," he drawled and Harry glanced at him sideways, eyebrows disappearing under messy bangs.
"Cats and dogs don't mix," Harry answered equally, and the others felt as though the wizard was testing to waters so to say, like he was gauging Peter's reaction.
"I'm a wolf, not a dog," Peter wrinkled his nose in distaste and it was Harry's turn to scoff, the wizard sitting back in his chair, crossing his arms and legs and looking at Peter sideways, lips curling into a small smirk.
"Could have fooled me," he muttered, earning a glare from Peter and startling choked up laughter from everyone else, the atmosphere shifting just a bit.
"Do you really think you can help Derek?" Stiles asked and Harry looked at him, offering a small smile to the teen.
"I believe that Derek will prove himself worthy," he spoke with full certainty, Stiles' eyes widening for the smallest of fragments while Derek seemed to stand taller, strength that couldn't been seen in his eyes ever since Harry revealed the werewolf's condition slowly returning, "but I won't leave it in the hands of an ancient deity - god or anything else, if I can do anything about it, especially since we have Kate to worry about as well."
"Not to mention the concerning growth of Beacon Hills' population," John drawled, nose wrinkling in distaste. "I think it's safe to say that every single man and woman that moved into Beacon Hills in the past month can be considered a creature, right?" he looked at Harry who nodded.
"They come here looking for power," he said exchanging a glance with Scott. "They might not know that Beacon Hills is claimed territory, which means that there's a chance we'll be facing conflict."
"And hunters will flock into Beacon Hills like moths drawn to a flame," Peter drawled dramatically, obviously disgusted by it.
"It there anything we can do about that?" Scott asked and Harry hummed, shrugging his shoulders.
"I know a Repelling Charm I can turn into a Ward of sorts, but it'll take me at least two or three days. If it works, it should compel every creature living in Beacon Hills with bad intentions to move out as quickly as possible…" Harry hesitated, looking heavenwards shortly before he raised his shoulders, lips thinning for a moment, "If it works. We can't know anything for sure when Deep Magic is in play."
"And what about Kate?" they all looked at Kira when she brought out - they dared say - their biggest problem, if for no other reason than because she was the source of everything bad in Beacon Hills. "What are we going to do about her?"
"She's in Mexico, licking her wounds," Stiles spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest, although he still stood as close to Derek as he could without actually plastering himself to the werewolf.
"And unfortunately, none of us can go to Mexico to look for her," Harry muttered making everyone frown at him in confusion. The wizard cocked an eyebrow at them, equally confused by their reaction, only for his lips to form a small 'o' as he remembered that they didn't know what he did. "I can't leave Beacon Hills for more than a few days at a time because of my deal with the Nemeton, you guys need to go to school, and Melissa, John and Deaton have to work-"
"And I'm not letting Harry out of sight on pure principle," Peter drawled before anyone could question why Harry didn't mention him, making the wizard roll his eyes with a huff while the others raised eyebrows at the oldest werewolf among them.
"And there's that," Harry bit out under his breath, earning a slight glare from his werewolf lover. "But there's a solution to that as well."
"What solution?" John asked, leaning towards Harry.
"There are people I can call that owe me favors-"
"Favors or lives?" Peter blurted out only to hiss and jerk in his seat a moment later when Harry slapped the werewolf's thigh.
"Hush, you," he muttered and Peter looked away from him, neither noticing the small smiles tilting the lips of their company which quickly disappeared when Harry looked away from Peter. "Braeden is one of them. I'll contact them as soon as possible and ask them to look for Kate and report to me of her whereabouts and actions."
"So that's handled," Stiles spoke up and Harry nodded, "but what do we do about everyone that moved in while you put up the wards?"
"We'll just have to be careful," Harry said. "I don't think we should engage in conflict with anyone, because hunters are sure to come, if they're not here already, and not all hunters follow the Code. There's a charm I can put on objects you always carry that can either change color or grow warm when you're close to someone that's not human, that way you'll know who to steer away from or keep an eye on."
"That would be great!" Lydia and Kira spoke at the same time while Scott and Stiles nodded enthusiastically copied by Melissa and John.
"It would be very useful in the hospital," Melissa said. "We'd be able to avoid another incident like with the Wendigo."
"Wristwatches are most useful when it comes to that," Harry said.
"We'll make sure to come by some," John said while Harry looked at Deaton who offered a small smile.
"The clinic is safe and I have my own ways to detect creatures, so you don't have to worry about me," the Emissary said and Harry nodded in understanding.
"Another thing," the wizard spoke up and looked at Derek who frowned at him in slight confusion, "Derek, I don't want you to be alone."
"What-"
"We can't know if Kate knew what she was doing when she used the ritual on you," Harry cut Derek off and the werewolf tensed up. "She might come after you again, and we need to know when you start losing your powers. While I won't ask you to sit aside and wait for us to solve anything, we need to be aware of everything so that we can act appropriately."
Derek grunted in agreement although he didn't look happy with it, and Harry gifted him with a small, grateful smile.
"And John?" the wizard addressed the sheriff who raised his head, looking at the wizard with a small expression of surprise at being addressed. "I know this goes against the law and against your own beliefs, but Lydia and Stiles need to have a way to protected themselves. I'll supply them with unmarked weapons. You will teach them how to use them."
"Harry-"
"John," Harry cut the man off, facing John's harsh stare with a calm one. "Yes, they are young. I was younger than them when I was first forced to fight for my life, and believe me if someone said to my guardians what I've told you now, many people would have been saved. They are not children anymore. You are all part of a word that is beautiful in its own right, yet more dangerous than anything you can imagine. Make sure they survive," Harry stressed out, and one could almost see realization downing in John's eyes.
He looked up at his son who stood beside Derek, both of them looking at John with determined expressions and proud stances. John shifted his gaze to Lydia and Kira, finding them looking at him with that same strength, and even though his heart ached because of it, he knew that Harry was right.
"What were you thinking?" John acquiesced albeit with an obvious inner conflict, and Harry offered a small reassuring smile.
"Guns, knives, self-defense," he listed. "I can transfigure the basement in your house into a shooting-range and a training room."
"I think we should all be there," Scott spoke up and Harry nodded in agreement.
"But you shouldn't neglect your studies. This is your last year of high-school and you kids need to think about your future as well, so we'll make a schedule."
"I'm all in," Stiles said, his words followed by everyone agreeing.
"I'll ask Jordan to join us," John said, looking to Harry for approval. "He has experience in field-combat and he's a great shot. I'm not all that good with knives though."
"I'll take care of that then," Harry said and glanced at the faces around him. "Well, I guess we have a lot of things to do."
And even though the situation was nowhere near good, it appeared as though no one really minded.
They had a plan.
All they had to do now was make it work.
And they would.
cut
To Be Continued…