"Excuse me."

John Stilinski looked up at the front desk to where their secretary was sitting and to the two men standing in front of the desk. One man was unfamiliar to him but both were dressed nicely, slacks and shirts that looked more expensive than what he could afford on a cop's salary. The unfamiliar man was dressed in blacks and greens, with a hint of red at the hem, and there was a stick behind an ear that stuck out.

The other man… was one that John was familiar with. Peter Hale. He thought the man was still in the hospital. Peter looked awfully healthy and well dressed as well, very different than when John had last seen him. When he had last seen him carted out in an ambulance from Talia Hale's home.

"How can we help you today? Do you have a crime to report?"

The unfamiliar man shrugged as he shook his head. "No. I would like to however talk to the man who headed the investigation into the Hale house fire, one law enforcement officer to another."

John stood up, nodded to Nina as she turned around to call him, and walked over. The sun was starting its descent in the sky as he looked out the window, shining its late light through the windows. "I'm that officer and Sheriff. What can I do for you? Mr Hale, I thought you would still be in the hospital."

Peter Hale smiled at him, a dangerous glint in his eyes, and John blinked, feeling the urge to take a step back.

The other man sighed and reached a hand to Peter's shoulder. John could see the man's fingers squeeze in warning and Peter's body loosened, shoulders uncurling and breathing evening out, less like an approaching predator.

"I would like to look at the reports of the Hale fire."

"And you are…" John trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he took in the man's bright green eyes and the scar on his forehead.

"Harry Potter. On… government business from London but the Hale fire case drew my eyes."

"What kind of government business? You a police officer over there?"

Harry's shoulders lifted and then dropped in a slight shrug, slight curl to his mouth that John didn't know what to make of it. "Do you want to see my badge?"

"Yes."

"You have a badge? Can I see it?" Peter questioned, amusement and John could hear a sharp edge to it.

Harry looked into Peter's eyes before reaching into a pocket to draw out a badge, handing it over to John. "You can look after Sheriff Stilinski looks at it."

John peered down at the badge, seeing Harry's photo underneath a badge that he had never seen before. It wasn't MI-6 and it wasn't anything he had ever heard of. It did though have the sigil and flag of the Queen on it, stamped in the corner. In addition, it had the date of…

"You were knighted by the Queen?"

"I was," Harry answered and John looked up at the two men again, seeing Peter's eyes narrow. "Wasn't a big deal though. I was in and out of the palace within an hour. I hate being in the public's eye."

John blinked as he studied the man, seeing him in a new light. He handed the man his badge back and Harry tucked it back into a pocket.

"Should I call you Sir Potter now too?" Peter asked, winking at Harry. "Or would you rather-"

"Peter, not the time. I hate it."

Peter stared at Harry and Harry stared back at him, his eyes flashing.

John cleared his throat loudly and Harry snorted before turning back to him.

"I became interested in the case after some… peculiar circumstances," Harry remarked, his lips twitching up into an exasperated smile. "Have you found or caught anyone?"

"The fire was ruled accidental," John started, stopping when Peter let out a noise that sounded… inhuman, almost a growl. The man's eyes flashed in the light for a moment and John could have sworn they flashed blue, bright blue, but it was probably just a trick of the light.

Harry grimaced and swept an arm out to catch Peter. "Peter… Sheriff, we believe the fire was arson."

Peter's eyes darkened and John dropped his hand down to the gun at his waist, something inside him telling him to run. Telling him that the man in front of him was a predator.

"Come on. You can read the report," John remarked quietly, taking a step back before heading back into the office. "The insurance investigator ruled it accidental but… between you and me… I think it was not."

He heard a growl behind him and shuddered. He waited until Harry and Peter were ahead of him before gesturing to his office. "I'll bring the files to you."

"Peter, you need to stay human," Harry muttered, as they stood in the sheriff's office. "I don't want to obliviate all these people."

Peter stayed silent, a low rumble still leaving his throat. Harry swore under his breath and reached out, entwining his fingers with Peter's right hand. Claws dug into his palm and Harry flinched before tightening his hold. Peter sucked in a sharp breath at the touch and looked at him, his eyes narrowed.

"We will get the people who burned your home and destroyed your pack. I promise."

"Will you hold to your word?"

Peter's fingers lengthed into claws in his hand and Harry still held onto him.

"You may not have known me for more than a few hours but I keep my promises," Harry whispered, meeting Peter's brown eyes easily.

"Who are you two?"

Harry blinked and turned around, looking down at the two kids in the doorway. They both looked to be the same age, around perhaps 15 or 16. One had darker skin than the other but they were both looking at him and Peter intently. The one with the buzzcut was looking at them with far more curious intent than the other one was though, his eyes a brighter mirror of the Sheriff's.

"And why is there blood dripping from your hand?"

"Stiles! Scott! You two shouldn't be here," Sheriff Stilinski said as he walked over to them, a box in his arms.

Harry stepped closer to Peter and pulled their hands behind their backs, feeling Peter shudder a little. He spelled a privacy cloak over their hands and watched as goosebumps on Peter's bare arms sprinkled up the skin. He smoothed his thumb over Peter's wrist and a quiet noise tore itself from the man's throat as his claws shortened and pulled out.

His heart skipped a beat at the noise and warmth gathered within him.

Harry whispered more words under his breath and breathed deeply, feeling his skin knit itself back together.

"School's out, dad. You said to check in with you after class."

John blinked and looked down at his watch before sighing. "Alright. You've checked in. You can go home now. Make sure to get to bed early tonight, Stiles."

"It's Friday."

Harry watched as the Sheriff and apparent father of Stiles sighed. "Ah. Scott, are you staying over then?"

"Yeah. My mom said it was okay."

"Got it. There's money on the table for pizza then," Sheriff Stilinski remarked. "And in the meantime, out."

"Yes, dad," Stiles said, his eyes still on Harry and Peter. "Hey, aren't you the guy that-"

"Stiles!"

Harry's lips twitched up into a grin and Peter breathed out on a relatively steady exhale before smirking at the kid.

Scott towed his friend out and Harry watched as the sheriff stepped into his office, put the box of files down on his desk, and then walked over to shut the door. "Sorry about that. Kid's like his mother. Here are the files from the case."

"Just one box?" Harry questioned, as the blood on his palm vanished. "I would have thought it would be more."

"The investigation did not last more than a few days," John said.

Peter's eyes narrowed as the sheriff opened up the box for their perusal.

"Who was the insurance investigator?" Harry asked, meeting Peter's eyes first before turning to look at the sheriff.

Peter focused on the officer, hearing the steady thump of his heart beat as he spoke.

"Guy named Garrison Myers. He seemed a little…" Stilinski trailed off and Peter frowned as the man's heart thumped louder for a minute and then fell back to its normal volume. "Well… I will leave these files here. They are not to leave the office but you can have a look at them as long as you're here."

Peter took a few steps over to the desk and opened the lid of the box. There weren't a lot of files on the fire that claimed the lives of his pack except for his niece and nephew. He pulled one page out and looked it over, noticing that there were no names of arsonists on it. Only… 'electrical malfunction'.

He felt Harry come up and read the page from beside him, their shoulders bumping. Warmth echoed throughout him at the slight touch from his new alpha and it reverberated through him, like a bowling ball that had gotten sent down its lane.

"Electrical malfunction, huh?" Harry turned to look at him and then rolled his eyes. "If the cause of that fire was an electrical malfunction then I'm Voldemort."

"Hmm?" Stilinski looked at them questioningly, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Nothing. Thank you for letting us see these, Sheriff."

"You're welcome."

"Were there any known arsonists in town that day, Sheriff?" Peter questioned finally, as he pulled out another page from the box. "Any people that would have been likely to set fires?"

"No," Stilinski replied, his eyes narrowing even further. "What makes you ask that?"

"That fire was not an accident as Garrison Myers said. I remember that day," Peter spoke, hearing his voice lower. "It was not an accident."

Stilinski blinked and his eyes softened. Peter flinched at the sight.

"Mr Hale, I am sure you think you remember-"

"I remember the smell of burning flesh and screams, the yells of my family," Peter said.

"The doctors said that you wouldn't remember."

"Ah, yes. The doctors. They've never had their pack burned to death before their very eyes."

Stilinski paled and Harry stayed quiet for a moment before opening his mouth, waving his hand over the files in the box. Peter felt a wave of power and knew that Harry had used his power but he didn't know what it had been for.

"Sheriff, if you have any other information for us, you can give me a call at this number," Harry started, drawing out a card from a pocket and handing it over. The sheriff didn't move for several minutes and Harry cleared his throat. Stilinski started at the noise and reached out to grab Harry's card, looking it over for a second before studying the men in front of him. "I'll be in town for another few days. If you remember anything or something like that, give me a call. Peter, let's go."

Peter grinned and turned around, following Harry back out of the office and out of the police department.

"He is not your enemy, Peter Hale," Harry remarked as soon as they were outside in the fresh air.

"He went along with the official description of the fire. An electrical malfunction," Peter said through gritted teeth. "My whole pack died in that fire, Harry."

"I am aware of that. We just need to figure this out ourselves," Harry replied, as they walked along the sidewalk. Kids were just getting out of the school a few blocks away and they passed very many parents and students themselves. "We can pay a visit to Myers and start there. We don't want to bring the attention of every hunter here."

Peter growled and flashed his eyes in anger, his heart pounding in his chest. "Fuck Myers. We need to go straight to the Argents."

Harry paused and turned to look at Peter before reaching out and tugging him ahead, to an alleyway a few feet away. He pushed Peter up against the wall of the building and Peter smirked at him even as Harry crowded him in.

"You want to bring attention to yourself this early in the game?"

"I know it was the Argents who burned my home," Peter said, baring his teeth. "They're hunters with no code."

"We need proof and I am not going to go read their minds to see if they did," Harry argued, his eyes darkening. "You are still half human. We go by human rules now. Not wolf rules."

Peter could hear the man's heart thumping quickly and he smiled. Harry blinked and Peter closed the distance between their mouths, pressing his lips to Harry's.

Harry groaned and then brought his arm to Peter's chest, not to push him off… but to hold. Something in Peter rumbled contentedly and heat grew in his body, slithering into him as Harry deepened it, nipping at his mouth and slipping his tongue into Peter's mouth.

Peter shivered and whined as Harry pressed into him, scents filling his nose rapidly. The ozone that filled the air right before a thunderstorm and power. Peter's breathing hitched and Harry pulled away, his pupils blown, his breath unsteady.

"And we are not doing this in an alleyway," Harry muttered. "Let's find somewhere to spend the night."