Summary:

Set in the There Be Dragons, Harry Universe, this snippet is meant to be a short fic of Harry and his various Bonded around Christmas time when he's just discovered that his pregnant. It's a background theme and the overall prompt is the seven deadly sings. It is NOT TBDH canon.

Pairings:

Harry Potter x Harry's Bonded

Disclaimer:

I do not own any Harry Potter anything. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like playing with Harry in my own little world of storyville. I make no money by writing this fanfiction. All original characters are my own.

Rating:

T/M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16.

WARNINGS: .Smexy Hints. Slash. Angst. Family. OC's. OOCness. TBDH Universe. AU. Other warnings will be added as I see fit.

A/N: This is a Christmas Ficlet for this year, following the prompt of the Seven Deadly Sins, because i've had some ideas I needed to write out for the time being, while I worked on fleshing out some of the other plot points. Enjoy! Each "sin" may be more than one chapter long and they are loosely based over the time of Harry's "Pregnancy" from the Jun ficlet. It is so OOC I almost didn't want to post it. -facepalm-. And it's definitely got American spelling/expressions in it. Ergh. Please bear with it!

Thanks for reading and your continued support of this dragel-fandom-love-fest ~Scion

GLUTTONY

As far as Harry is concerned, his Merrow is the most prideful—and not on account of overcompensation. There's very little that his Merrow lacks, be it magic, beauty and brains. Of course, his manners leave something to be desired, but Harry cannot exactly fault him for this.

Not when he's eternally grateful for the moments when his prickly-water-bonded will let his temper get the better of him.

It's when they're walking into the Annual Christmas Ball, hosted by the Cairothes (and really, Harry has got to get used to their family…), that the first prickle of unease filters through.

His empathy is dulled, thanks to a very welcome spell from Theo, because overstimulation from a gift he can't turn off, makes socializing awkward and draining. Harry has learned that Theo's offer during these sorts of occasions are meant as a gesture of affection and protection.

He doesn't want Harry to be too keyed up to enjoy the fun of being out and about, along with their Bonded in tow. Theo also can't help his Alpha instincts that urge him to look out for Harry, no matter what the upcoming event may be.

Still, Harry has learned to borrow some of Theo's calmness and so when this first annoying little prickle registers, he stifles a groan and tries to push it away. He wants to enjoy the party, there are so many friends here tonight.

And there's cake.

The Kalzik Twins, Farnati and Karnati, are turning out to be quite the talented bakers and this particular holiday confectionary explosion is their personal handiwork. Harry knows he can sample everything without overindulging, because in true Kalzik fashion, he's sure he doesn't want to know just how healthy the deceptively sugary items are. He's fairly certain their all well balanced and packed with specific nutrients and proteins.

It makes him smile as he starts for the buffet table, studiously ignoring one Yanek Doursen and his pathetic glower.

His shoulders twitch, because he can feel the true depth of emotion behind such glares and while the effect is dimmed, thanks to his tempered empathy, it is still irritating.

Like, really irritating.

Harry huffs, throwing a glance to the side and pick out where Theo has vanished to. Flaunting Theo isn't exactly a hardship, but Harry prefers to do it for the right reasons.

Mostly the right reasons.

Most of the time, anyway.

But of course, once they've entered, his Bonded have mysteriously vanished to pay their usual respects to extended family or check in on their old friends.

Not that he would be grudge them, but still—a brush of coolness flutters at his elbow and Harry turns in time to see the sour expression on his Merrow's face.

He bites back a smile and leans slightly to the left, nudging with one elbow to suggest that he does want the hint of closeness offered.

It takes a single second before the Merrow wraps a hand around Harry's arm, tucking his hand into the crook of Harry's elbow.

The gesture, no matter how small, serves to make the sour scowl more of a grimace.

Harry really wants to smile now, but it would kind of ruin the moment. Instead, he bumps against said Merrow once more on the way to the buffet table.

They join the line at the far end and it moves rather quickly. Harry picks the biggest plate they have, his movements somewhat hampered by said Merrow clinging to his arm, but he can't really complain.

Not since he can hear the whispers floating around them.

"…Aww—so cute! Look at them!"

"That's sickeningly adorable."

"Look at that blue hair!"

"How lucky—a Merrow."

"Do Merrow actually eat sweets?"

"So lucky—I wish I had me one of those."

If said Merrow notices them, he gives no actual response. Harry opts to make him hold the plate then, so he can pick what he wants—since his other hand is obviously occupied anyway.

"Why do I have to hold it?" comes the expected grumble, but the plate's already been taken and expertly balanced.

"Because you're taller," Harry says, uncaring as to whether it's an actual reason or not. He's learned to ignore the first thing that tends to come from his Merrow's lips, because it's usually a complaint.

Followed immediately by the actual thing said Merrow wants to say.

"You're not going to sample all of these, are you?"

Harry doesn't answer. He feels the slight puff of air on the side of his head, follow by the quietest of groans.

"Of course you are." The Merrow says. "Of course you are…"

Harry lets himself smile this time as they make their way down the table. The plate is held perfectly still and Harry happily loads it up with every single tasty morsel he can pack onto it.

He pretends not to notice when a flicker of magic charms the plate, so nothing can fall off of it.

They return to the table, where the towering plate is carefully eased onto the place setting. Harry drops into his seat with an audible purr, because really, he's been working very hard, thank you very much and this is a good reward.

"Wouldn't you rather mingle first?" The Merrow asks, a look of slight apprehension at the massive plate of sweets and Harry's too-delighted expression. "If you intend to eat yourself into a sugary stupor, then at least-"

"I haven't eaten any sweets since Quinn's strike," Harry reminds him.

The Merrow cringes, because that's one occasion they are not talking about—and Theo is still holding over them. Never mind that he actually didn't have anything to do with that—but blowing up the kitchen is a pretty bad end result over all.

Alright, fine. A really bad end result.

"There's still the entire Gorgens Clan over by the fountain and they always leave early-"

"Later," Harry says, dismissively.

"But you haven't even greeted the Cairothes!"

Harry doesn't answer. He's too busy chewing the spongy orange square with sweet fluff on top. He isn't sure what it's called, but it tastes like the sweetest orange in the world collided with the perfect marshmallow and decided to shrink until they could fit in his mouth.

"…Arry—Harry! Are you even listening to me?"

"Yep. Greeting people," Harry mumbles, mouth full. He ignores the expected look of disgust for his lack of table manners—but really, he's been good!

Too good.

A few sweets never hurt.

Harry eyes the small mountain.

Alright, fine. A decent amount of sweets won't hurt—much.

"If you give yourself a sugar high-"

"I won't!"

"-Don't come running to me."

"I wouldn't!" Harry says, before he can stop himself. He realizes the moment he's said the wrong thing, because he can't take it back and the temperature around him drops by several very noticeable degrees.

"…I see." The Merrow says, stiffly.

Harry swallows hurriedly, nearly choking on the nutty nougat he'd just sampled. "T-that's not what I meant. I just—can't you—they're mine!" He wraps a protective arm around the plate.

The Merrow gives him a withering glance. "I. Don't. Want. Them."

"Good. More for me." Harry says, happily. He scarfs down another handful of sugared jelly-tuffles.

There's a quiet huff, before the Merrow turns away. "I'll be paying our respects," he says, haughtily.

Harry is too busy to notice the plural.

This is NOT TBDH-canon. Like most of my prompts, this was written in a single draft writing session and has not been extensively proofed. SIGH. Apologies! I know Harry's really, really OOC in the upcoming chapters, but please enjoy it anyway! I love writing him in so many different ways. and yes, present tense is easier for me to write at the moment... THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT! ~Scion