Chapter Text
Two days after what Jared has taken to calling the Great Confrontation (in what she thinks is meant to be a Dickensian accent), Hari’s phone rings. She’s both surprised and expecting the southern drawl that comes out of the speaker.
“Miss Potter,” Jasper Cullen says formally. “I hope you don’t mind that I acquired your phone number from Carlisle. I was hoping to speak with you. In person, that is.”
Hari has made two visits to the Cullen residence since that initial meeting, to drop off various potions. Jasper has not been present for either of them.
She agrees to meet him somewhere neutral, happy to follow his suggestion of a coffee shop in Forks. She can drop some sweets off to Charlie while she’s there.
Paul isn’t happy about the idea, but he knows she can protect herself. She’s absolutely sure he’ll be in town anyway, just in case.
Jasper is already there when she arrives five minutes early, and he stands as she arrives, inclining his head in a way that makes her think he’d tip his hat if he was wearing one.
“Thank you for coming, ma’am,” he says quietly, pulling a chair out for her. He’s chosen a table in the back corner, where he can see the exits and have a wall at his back, and the chair he offers her affords the same courtesy. She eyes him as she sits down. “I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”
“First of all,” she says, taking off her scarf and putting it on the chair next to her. “Less of the ma’am, thank you. It’s delightfully American but I’ll have to insist you call me Hari.”
She holds out a hand, grinning at him despite herself.
“Nice to officially meet you, Jasper Cullen. I’m Hari Potter.”
They’re interrupted by a smiling middle-aged waitress holding a notepad, who says she’s named Nina. Hari orders two cappuccinos and two different flavours of pie, watches the woman’s eyes flick between Jasper and herself. She can practically feel the gossip starting.
“I’m Hari,” she introduces herself, holding out a hand. Nina shakes it, exclaiming over her accent. “I live on the reservation, recently arrived from London.”
“How do you two know each other?” Nina asks in that way people in small towns seem unable to resist. Hari almost laughs at the idea of telling her the truth. Jasper opens his mouth, but since whatever he says will inevitably be as unsubtle as every other part of the Cullens’ existence, Hari hopes he’ll forgive her for speaking over him.
“I’m a doctor,” she says, enjoying the surprise on Nina’s face. It’s reflected on the faces of the half dozen people blatantly eavesdropping from nearby tables. “I specialise in trauma medicine and phytotherapy, and consulted with Dr Cullen on one of his cases. He mentioned that Jasper has an interest in medicine, and asked if I’d offer some advice on where he might direct his talents once he finishes school.”
Jasper snorts at her Muggle-friendly description of potions, disguising it as a cough as he looks innocently at Nina. She looks as if she wants to pinch Jasper’s cheek as she bustles off.
They sit in relative silence until their drinks appear with the slices of apple and cherry pie. Once they’ve been left alone, Hari casts a silent Muffliato, followed by a spell to help Jasper with the scent of the humans around them. He relaxes slightly once she finishes, turning to her as he runs his finger around the rim of his coffee cup. It’s an oddly human gesture, and she wonders how much practice it took to learn to do. For all she knows, they might not have had coffee whenever he’s from.
“Can we be heard?” he asks. She shakes her head. “It’s Whitlock.”
Her confusion must be evident.
“My name,” he clarifies. “I go by Hale, to fit in with the others, but my name is Jasper Whitlock.”
Hari inclines her head in acknowledgment.
“I assume there was a military title attached to that at some stage,” she says evenly. She’s got no idea why he asked to meet her, but sue her, she’s curious. “Unless I’ve misread you completely.”
“Major,” he replies, holding her gaze. “In the Civil War.”
She puts that information together with the accent and comes to a conclusion she doesn’t particularly like. Jasper can clearly read it on her face.
He tells her why he signed up, that it seemed the thing to do more than he cared at all about the right to own another human being, the regret that’s followed him since. She hears about his contributions to the civil rights movement in the 60s, tells him she was part of a teenage rebellion called the Children’s Crusade. The smile he gives her at that fades as he explains the reason for his turning and the absolute horror that followed. She listens to his story with sympathy as she eats pie, thinking that it sounds a lot like her own in reverse.
“I apologise, I’m carrying on,” he says eventually. “I actually asked you here to ask about you.”
“Me?” She’s surprised. Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t that.
“Mostly,” he says. “I get the impression that whatever led you here has more in common with my own experience than my family’s. But I also wanted to ask if you’d be willing to tell me about your kind. History fascinates me, and Carlisle’s information is several centuries out of date.”
That makes much more sense to Hari. She weighs up her options, and decides that talking to him won’t bring any harm to the tribe. She might as well indulge his curiosity as well as her own.
“You’re not wrong,” she admits. “About me, or about Carlisle’s access to magical information. We’ll start with the easy bit though, and you have to promise not to be terribly disappointed that I don’t have an official military title, just a series of increasingly awful nicknames.”
He laughs at that despite himself, and so she gives him an abridged version of both wizarding wars, and her own role in them. He has a strange look on his face when she finishes, and when she asks, he hesitates over his words.
“I don’t mean to offend,” he says carefully. “But it’s very clear that absolutely no one involved had any strategic military experience at all.”
Hari bursts out laughing, almost spilling her coffee. Jasper catches the fork she knocks off the table, looking pleased despite himself. She takes the moment to vanish some of his coffee and sips her own.
“We didn’t,” she tells him, thinking about Ron and his attempts to organise them. “They were happy to put three teenagers at the figurehead of a war, but didn’t want to listen to the one with a shred of strategic talent.”
Jasper clearly doesn’t want to push too far, so they move onto more innocuous topics. He seems most interested in how magical history overlaps with what he knows, but the goblin wars sidetrack him and before long he’s exhausted what Hari can remember from the most boring class she ever took.
By the time an hour has passed, she’s decided he’s an alright sort. He’s ruthlessly pragmatic, like she is, and he seems to respect that she’d been willing to fry them to protect the Quileutes. He’s very strange, but then, he’s a century and a half old and a vampire to boot.
Hari makes sure to compliment Nina on the pie on the way out of the door, turning to Jasper once she’s recast a silencing charm.
“How do you feel about experimental medical treatment?” she asks as he holds the door open for her. He shrugs.
“Hypothetically or in regards to myself?” he questions her. She holds up a potion, charmed to look like a jar of jam.
“I made this for you,” she says. “And by ‘made’, I mean I literally invented it. It should help with the scent of human blood, at least as long as no one is actively bleeding, but as I haven’t tested it, I can’t promise it works.”
“I’ll try anything,” he tells her intensely, standing completely still on the pavement. “Anything you can offer, I’m willing.”
Hari hands over the jar, gesturing for him to follow as she unlocks the truck. When he sees her reach for the box on the passenger seat, he leans over her to pick it up himself, leaning so close she can smell that weird sweet scent Paul says they all have. She tucks away the obvious trust he has that she’s not afraid of him away to consider later.
“Take one every day, in the morning,” she tells him. “They’re under stasis charms, so they won’t spoil. If they work, I’ll send you some more.”
She scribbles her email address on the back of a receipt, balancing it on top of the box.
“Get in touch if you have any other questions, might be easier than explaining magical theory by text.”
He’s staring at her again, and she tries not to be unnerved by the way he can still so completely.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks. “This is more effort than you’re obliged to go to, even for the tribe’s sake.”
“I quite like you, even if your ‘dad’ isn’t my cup of tea,” she says mildly. He visibly stifles a smile. “And you’re clearly trying. Might as well help if I can.”
“I’m grateful,” he says, holding her gaze. “I struggle more than my siblings.”
“So would I, if I was an empathic former soldier feeling the bloodlust of six other vampires,” she tells him, patting his arm carefully. It’s like comforting a rock in sub-zero temperatures. “We didn’t all have the luxury to be raised in the vampiric equivalent of a Rockwell painting.”
Jasper startles at that, and Hari wants to groan at the fact he’s clearly never thought of it like that. They’re all so repressed, it’s tragic.
He actually bows at her as he leaves, the weirdo, and Hari laughs to herself as she sends Paul a quick text and points the truck in the direction of the police station. There’s a basket of muffins for the department that won’t deliver itself.
The next day, just as Hari sends a package of books on magical history to Jasper, a ridiculously over the top bouquet of flowers appears at the front door, obscuring the view of the man delivering them.
He doesn’t often make friends -A the card reads, and that combined with the way all three wolves scowl at them every time they enter the living room makes Hari laugh out loud.
———
The next Friday evening finds Hari following Paul to the beach. He’s been very secretive all day, and Hari’s let him wander around with a grin he keeps trying to hide without asking. She’s dressed up a little at his request, and as she glances up at the man beside her, she can’t help appreciating him in a proper shirt.
Any thoughts of Paul’s clothes vanish as they clear the tree line and she sees the beach. The spot the pack usually use for bonfires has been decked in candles and lanterns, and there’s a picnic blanket spread over the sand. It’s covered in food, and as Hari gets closer she realises what’s going on.
“Did you do this for Diwali?” she asks, turning to face Paul and taking his hands. He nods, ducking his head.
“I hope I got it right. I know you don’t do the multi-day traditions, but Mr Sharma in Port Angeles explained what to do for this, and his wife insisted on making you some treats.”
Hari feels like she might fall over at the swell of emotion in her chest. The thought that he’d gone to the only Hindu he knows (the Sharmas have satisfied Hari’s cravings for Indian food more than once) to do this for her makes her smile so hard her cheeks ache. She turns and surveys the laddoos, jalebi and samosas and has to make herself take a breath. Paul takes her hand and guides her onto the blanket, sitting beside her with his feet stretched out onto the sand.
“I know you never got to experience this with your dad,” Paul says quietly, running one hand over the back of his neck. “And I know the girls at your school gave you some insight into your heritage. I’m not trying to push one part of your identity over the rest, but you’ve put so much effort into understanding and respecting my culture. You deserve to celebrate yours.”
Hari has to swallow twice before she can speak. When she does, the words are not at all what she’s expecting.
“I love you,” she tells him, feeling it in every part of her, including the bond. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”
Paul, who had frozen at the first part of her sentence, suddenly takes her jaw in one hand and kisses her breathless.
“I love you too,” he says, resting his forehead gently against hers. “But I think you knew that already.”
They sit together, watching the water and the colourful flames of the driftwood fire, eating snacks as Hari explains the full Diwali festival to Paul. Just as she tells him Parvati and Padma’s stories of firework displays with their whole family in India, Paul looks over her shoulder and grins.
“It’s lucky you say that,” he says, beckoning with one hand at whatever’s behind her. “Because I have one more surprise for you.”
Hari turns to find the pack, both shifted and not, standing with boxes in their hands. Sam, Leah and Jared head a distance away to start fussing over whatever they’ve got, and the younger boys come over with what Hari recognises as the ingredients for s’mores.
“We’re combining cultures,” Quil announces as he flops down and starts tearing packages open. “I will trade you one of those delicious looking triangles for the finest s’more in Washington.”
Hari opens her mouth to warn him about how spicy the samosas are, but before she can, he’s popped one in his mouth pretty much whole. The resulting coughing and sweating makes Jacob laugh, long and loud and carefree, and Hari is so pleased to see it she has to get up and hug him.
Between gasps, Quil begs her to help him with magic. Embry claps him on the shoulder as he sits down beside Hari, marshmallow already on the end of a stick.
“I don’t think her education covered any ‘dumbass who can’t eat a chilli’ spells,” he says, watching his marshmallow carefully. “Sucks to be you, bro.”
Hari watches him make his s’more with utter fascination. He treats it the way she imagines chefs in fancy restaurants plate food, carefully layering chocolate and making sure his marshmallow is exactly how he wants it. He puts so much effort in, she’s completely taken by surprise when he presents it to her.
“Ma’am,” he says playfully, holding it out with an endearing look on his face. She takes it and kisses his cheek in gratitude, which earns him a marshmallow to the face from both Jacob and Quil. As he launches himself at them and the three boys roughhouse on the sand a small distance away, Hari looks to Paul.
“Thank you for bringing them,” she says, taking his hand in hers. “It’s a lovely surprise.”
“They’re not the surprise,” he laughs. “They just insisted on coming when they heard me talking to Sam and Jared about it.”
Hari is about to ask when a whistle cuts across the beach, and she looks in Sam, Leah and Jared’s direction. They’ve gone a long way down the beach, and as she looks over, she sees Jared bend down.
Any questions she might have die in her throat when the fireworks start.
They’re George’s, and Hari has no idea how Paul got hold of them or when George developed fireworks that won’t blatantly break the Statute, but the thought that he’d gone to so much trouble and deliberately brought all these parts of her life together is almost overwhelming.
Later, as they walk back to the house, it’s just the two of them again. Sam and Leah have gone off on a date of their own, Jared to see his mum, and the three younger boys had insisted on cleaning up as a thank you for Hari sharing her food with them.
As they approach the house, a crack of thunder sounds overhead, and rain starts to fall.
“Lucky that didn’t happen earlier,” Hari tells Paul with a smile. “Would’ve made the picnic difficult.”
As she goes to climb the porch steps, Paul stops her with a hand on her arm.
“Trust me?”
She nods, wondering what he’s up to as he goes onto the porch himself and turns on the little radio they keep safe under the cover.
Hari can just about hear it, music drifting down the steps to her. She doesn’t ask, waiting until Paul is back by her side and holding out a hand.
“May I have this dance?” he asks softly. Hari thinks back to the second day she knew him, when he’d asked her if there was anything she’d ever wanted to do.
Dance in the rain, she’d told him. And here he was, holding out a hand to offer her just that.
He pulls her close as the two of them sway together, his hands on her hips and hers on the back of his neck. He’s looking at her, soft and adoring and so perfect Hari could cry.
Once the music fades out to some sort of advert, Hari pulls Paul down to kiss her. She’s soaking wet, freezing cold, and happier than she can ever remember being.
“I love you,” she says, pressing her cheek to his chest. “So very much.”
“I love you too,” he tells her seriously. “So very much.”
———
A week before Christmas, Hari is wrapping presents in the living room to place under the tree as she hums along to the radio. Muggle Christmas music outstrips the magical offerings by miles, and she’s happily listening to Paul McCartney having a wonderful Christmastime. The men are all out on the porch with cups of coffee, taste testing Hari’s latest foray into what American Muggles call subs. They’ll put anything in a sandwich, and this week she’s gone with a holiday theme for the fillings.
“Hari!” she hears through the open window. Jared is bellowing despite the fact she’s sitting three feet from him through the wall. “I know you said we weren’t allowed to set foot in the house while you wrapped presents but I’m out of cranberry sauce.”
She briefly considers the merits of throwing the pot at him to test his reflexes before she levitates it through the window like an adult.
“Love you!” comes floating through as she hears what can only be him upending the entire contents into his sandwich.
As she puts the last of the presents under the tree and stands up, the crack of incoming apparition sounds outside. She’s at the bottom of the porch steps so fast she’s not sure if she apparated herself.
“Hari!” a voice calls, a strange echo of Jared two minutes previously. A dark-haired blur crosses the grass and into her arms before she’s registered who’s arrived.
“Teddy bug!”
With her arms full of her godson and a sudden burst of joy filling her, she looks up to see George grinning at her as he walks over at a much more sedate pace than an excited eight year old.
“Thought I’d bring you an early Christmas present,” he grins. “Paul said you guys didn’t have any big plans before the holidays.”
“We were meant to be coming on Christmas,” Teddy tells her excitedly, still wrapped around her middle. “Grandma said so. But then Uncle George came and said we could come early and stay over for ages!”
Hari’s blinking back tears as George reaches them, kissing the cheek he offers her as he wraps his arms around her a foot above Teddy’s own.
“Best Christmas present ever,” she says into his chest. “Thank you Georgie.”
“Hey,” Jared pipes up from the porch where all three wolves have been watching this reunion. “You don’t know what we got you yet.”
At the sound of his voice, Teddy peers around her before immediately dropping his jaw at the sight of them. Hari wraps an arm around his shoulders as the men stand up, coming down the steps to say hello. Jared claps George on the shoulder in a way he immediately reciprocates, so she chalks it up to a man thing and not an American one. Sam, ever the gentleman, goes to pick up the bag Teddy dropped on the grass in his haste to get to Hari, while Paul comes to a stop before Hari and Teddy.
“Wow,” Teddy says, staring up at him. “You’re tall.”
Paul laughs as he kneels down to Teddy’s height, offering a hand to the small boy. He takes it with utter seriousness.
“I’m Paul,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m Teddy,” he replies, still holding onto Paul’s hand. “Hari’s my auntie.”
Hari watches this exchange with so much emotion she’s not quite sure where to put it.
“Hari,” Teddy says, pulling on the edge of her cardigan. “He smells good.”
Sam, who had put the bag on the porch steps, turns his head abruptly to face Teddy. Jared, with a delighted smile on his face, joins Paul in front of her godson.
“I’m Jared,” he introduces himself. “Do I smell good too?”
Teddy takes a deliberate step forward, one hand trailing behind him to hang onto Hari’s clothes. He inhales carefully, tilting his head the same way she’s watched Jared himself do countless times.
“Yes,” Teddy decides eventually. “But different.”
Jared looks up at George with a grin.
“Did you bring us a little wolf for Christmas, George? Hari was right, best present ever.”
Even knowing Jared is joking, George laughs at that, throwing his head back as he greets Paul properly. They engage in some sort of complicated handshake-hug, as Sam approaches Teddy carefully. He’s the biggest of the three of them, and watching him try not to scare her godson makes Hari want to hug him.
“I’m Sam,” he tells the small boy. “We’re Hari’s friends.”
Teddy sniffs him too, before apparently deciding he’s alright. He shakes the offered hand, staring up at Sam.
“Pack,” he says decisively, to collective shock. “Not friends. Hari, can I have juice please?”
“Of course, Teddy bug,” Hari laughs as all three wolves look first at each other then at her. “Come on, let’s get you a snack.”
———
“Teddy’s half werewolf,” she tells them once they’re all settled in the kitchen. Teddy is at the table, legs swinging happily as he eats a mini Christmas sub of his own. The promised juice is sitting next to his elbow, and before he can knock it over, Paul smoothly moves it out of range on his way to the fridge. George, eating a full-sized version on the opposite side of the table, snorts softly.
“Actual werewolves,” he clarifies. “Not to be confused with the Great Pacific Northwestern Shifter Contingent.”
“I will withhold this coffee from you,” Sam says without looking up from the espresso machine. “You can have instant.”
“I test my inventions on myself,” George fires back without missing a beat. “I’ve drunk far worse than instant coffee.”
“Ah,” Jared says sagely as he hands Hari a cup of her own. “But you’ve never had American instant coffee have you?”
“It’s an abomination,” Hari confirms, laughing at the way George has stopped chewing to consider this point. “It smells so bad they actually bought a coffee machine to stop upsetting their wolfy noses.”
“Wolfy?” Teddy asks as he finishes his sandwich. Hari just knows he’s about to drink all his juice in one go. “Are there wolves here?”
“Kind of,” Hari explains. “You know how I can be a panther sometimes?”
“Aunt Hermione says that you and Uncle Ron should stop assuming I don’t know words like animagus,” Teddy tells her seriously around his straw. George laughs mid-chew, and Jared has to thump him on the back gently.
“Okay, Mr Vocabulary,” Hari smiles, ruffling his hair. “You know how I’m an animagus?”
Teddy nods.
“Paul, Sam and Jared are sort of like that. They’re not wizards, but they can turn into wolves.”
“Is that why you’re so big?” Teddy asks Sam. George starts laughing again, this time sans-sandwich.
“Yep,” Sam tells him. “And we eat a lot of vegetables.”
Teddy wrinkles his nose.
“Gross,” he says succinctly. “Unless it’s broccoli. Broccoli is the best.”
“Do you want to see, Teddy?” Paul offers. “We can show you if you like.”
“Can I, Hari?” Teddy’s eyes are shining as he looks up at her. “Please?”
“Sure thing, kiddo,” Hari laughs. “But outside, they’re too big for the kitchen.”
George joins her on the porch as Teddy follows the shifters outside, sandwich abandoned for the time being. Paul shifts first, laying on his belly so Teddy can reach to pet his face.
Before long, the sounds of delighted giggling fill the air as the three wolves play with Teddy on the grass. She’s watched them play fight before between themselves, can see how careful they’re being with the child amongst them.
“He seems to like them,” George comments, watching the scene with his hands wrapped around his mug. “And they’re good with him.”
“I’m hoping it’ll be good for him,” Hari admits. “They’re the closest thing I’ve ever come across to his own kind.”
“You mean wizarding Britain isn’t full of half-werewolf metamorphmagus children?” George asks, a hand clasped over his heart dramatically. “Surely not.”
Before Hari can come up with a retort she’s comfortable saying in front of an eight year old, Jacob appears around the side of the house. Whatever he was going to say in greeting is cut off as he catches sight of the wolves and the child running around.
“George brought my godson Teddy to visit early for Christmas,” Hari explains as she gets up to hug him. “Are you hungry?”
Jacob nods as he sits down, grinning at George in greeting.
“Thought I was hallucinating for a second,” he says as Hari pops inside for another sandwich. “How are you, George?”
“I’m good, kid,” George pats him on the shoulder. “How are you getting on?”
“Better,” Jacob says. “Hari’s been a big help.”
“She usually is,” George admits, smiling softly at her as she comes back with a can of pop and a sandwich for Jacob. “She’s got a knack for it.”
Teddy suddenly inhales, pausing in the middle of what seems to be a game of him chasing three tails at once. His head turns towards the porch before he takes off running.
Paul shifts back and follows him over, and by the time he’s pulled on his shorts and reached Hari, Teddy is stood in front of Jacob with a look of awe on his face. Jacob, for his part, looks adorably confused.
“Hi Teddy,” Jacob says, grinning at the child despite his confusion. “I’m Jake.”
Hari watches as Teddy deliberately sniffs Jacob, before scrambling into the teenager’s lap and rubbing his cheek along Jacob’s in a blatant display of scenting before he settles down with his head tucked under Jacob’s chin.
“You okay there, Teddy bug?” Hari asks. Jacob has wrapped an arm around him to hold him steady, sandwich held above his head, but he meets Hari’s eyes over the top of his head in bewilderment.
“Smells like pack,” Teddy says, burrowing deeper into Jacob’s chest. “S’good.”
Suddenly Hari understands, and she wants to cry a little bit. Paul reaches for her hand and wraps his fingers around hers.
“Teddy’s dad was a werewolf,” Hari tells Jacob around the lump in her throat. “And his mother was a Black. He’s met other Blacks, but never one with any kind of wolf gene. I think he’s decided you’re family.”
“Is that right?” Jacob asks the boy. Teddy nods and Jacob grins, bright and happy. “Well then, little cuz, if I get crumbs in your hair I promise I’ll vacuum you gently.”
Teddy attaches himself like a limpet to Jacob for the rest of the afternoon, letting go only when Billy shows up to find his wayward son. Teddy is almost as enamoured with Jacob’s father as he is with Jacob himself, instincts clearly happy to have them close. He sits next to Billy for dinner, once Hari convinces him to stay, listens to his older cousin tell him stories about the spirit wolves with rapt attention.
While Billy agrees to be Teddy’s bedtime story, Hari watches George take Jacob onto the porch. Jared and Sam are watching a hockey game, while Paul reads a book on magical plants and their healing properties. Hari closes the window to give them as much privacy as possible.
———
The next morning, Hari wakes to an empty bed. Pulling on one of Paul’s jumpers, she pads downstairs and into the kitchen. The sight that greets her is possibly the sweetest thing she’s ever seen.
Teddy is sitting on Paul’s shoulders, holding onto his hair as Paul whisks something in a bowl. He considers the contents, then holds the bowl up to Teddy for consideration. He dips his finger in, licks it, and then nods.
“Perfect,” he declares. “It’s time!”
“Time for what?” Hari asks, moving into the room properly. Teddy turns to face her and Paul lifts one hand to catch him before he topples off.
“Paul knows how to make pancakes, Hari!” Teddy is practically vibrating with excitement. “It’s got chocolate and blueberries!”
“Chocolate and blueberries?” Hari repeats, grinning at them both. “That sounds delicious.”
It is delicious, and before long the rest of the household has descended on the kitchen. Mornings like this are always Hari’s favourite, but as she watches Leah blearily listen to Teddy’s excited rambling about the blueberries his grandmother grows while Jared helps Paul flip pancakes and Sam makes coffee for George, it feels particularly special.
Not long after they finish breakfast, George bids them all goodbye and Paul and Jared take Teddy outside to run off some of his energy before Leah actually collapses from exhaustion. Jacob comes in the back door five minutes after they go out the front, a pensive look on his face.
“Can I talk to you?” he asks Hari. She nods, patting the chair next to her, squeezing Sam’s forearm gratefully as he and Leah exit the kitchen to give them some privacy. Jacob sinks into the chair and leans into Hari, resting his cheek on her shoulder.
“George talked to me yesterday,” he says eventually. “Did you tell him about my panic attack?”
Hari shakes her head.
“I wouldn’t do that without talking to you first,” she tells him in an effort to be reassuring. “George is basically a stranger to you. He’s observant though.”
“Yeah,” Jacob agrees wryly. “He gave me some advice but I have questions.”
“Go ahead,” Hari says, starting the coffee machine with her wand so she doesn’t have to get up. “I’ll answer what I can.”
“He said he and his brother started their shop after they left school, but their mum hated it,” Jacob recounts. Hari’s heart squeezes in her chest at the thought of George talking about Fred to try and help Jacob. “He said they respected her, and they wanted her to be proud of them, but they had to do what was right for them. Did it cause problems?”
Hari thinks about this for a minute and floats a cup of coffee across the kitchen to settle in front of Jacob.
“George had a twin,” she says carefully to Jacob, trying to swallow around the grief that swells in her. “He and Fred were inseparable, and two of the smartest people I’ve ever met. I loved them both from the moment I met them, and they were the first magical folk I met who didn’t care about the Girl Who Lived. I was just Hari to them.”
“You said had,” Jacob interrupts her with a look of horror on his face. Hari nods. “What happened to Fred?”
“He died, in the final battle of the war,” Hari explains. “George runs the shop with Ron now. Molly, their mum, wanted her children to have easier lives than she and their father did, and for her that meant traditional jobs and financial security. Her oldest sons, Bill and Charlie, rebelled a little in their career choices, but excelled at school and set what Molly considered a good example for the younger ones. Percy, the next oldest, followed her dreams to the letter. She struggled to see the potential in Fred and George, and they spent a long time feeling like they weren’t good enough for her. She made a lot of mistakes, but she came around.”
Jacob thinks about this for a while.
“Both my sisters left,” he says once he’s organised his thoughts. “And even if they hadn’t, my family is pretty traditional. I’m supposed to take over as Chief once I’m old enough. Dad says I’m supposed to be Alpha eventually too.”
He looks so sad Hari starts running a hand across his back to soothe him.
“The only thing you’re supposed to do is be happy,” she tells him decisively. “The rest will work itself out. You don’t have to be the Alpha anytime soon, Sam is more than happy to carry on until you’re ready. Yes, you’re in line to lead the tribe, but you don’t have to do it alone. You’ll have a council, and a support system, and you’ll be a better leader if you have other things in your life that let you be who you want. Whatever you decide, we’ll support you however we can.”
“I want to be a mechanic,” Jacob whispers, looking like he’s divulging carnal sins. Hari presses a kiss on the top of his head, smiling into his hair. “But I don’t want to let anyone down.”
“If you want to be a mechanic, then a mechanic you shall be,” Hari tells him just as quietly. “We’ll build you a garage, and help you with the business bits so you can get up your elbows in engine grease, and put up posters from here to Seattle so people know where to find the best mechanic in Washington. And if all else fails, we’ll fall back on plan B.”
“What’s plan B?” he asks her, turning so she can see the look of hope on his face.
“Magic,” she tells him with a grin that she knows matches his own. “Didn’t you hear I’m a witch?”
Teddy, who seems to have some sort of Jacob-radar built into his senses, comes barrelling into the kitchen with a shriek, climbing the teenager and settling in for a cuddle. Hari watches the tension seep out of Jacob with a smile on her face. He’ll be okay.
———
“Hari,” Sam says a couple of days later as they’re all gathered in the Blacks’ living room watching ice hockey. With the end of the baseball season and Seattle’s football team on a bye week (Hari still wants to laugh at the way Seth had despaired that she hadn’t known what that meant), they’ve collectively agreed to turn their attention to a winter sport. In the absence of a team based in Washington, they’d apparently chosen by geographical proximity and are supporting Vancouver. Charlie is due to arrive any minute. “Why did I see a truly obnoxiously large Christmas hamper in the living room as I was leaving the house?”
“It’s for the Cullens,” Hari says, grinning at him. “They’re due a potions delivery and I decided to take the opportunity to take the mickey.”
After a brief interlude to discuss British slang terms, Sam returns to the original point.
“What’s in it?”
“Potions, same as always,” Hari shrugs. Jacob is giggling under his breath, shaking her legs as he sits on the floor between them with his head resting on her left knee. “But I’ve charmed them to look like gingerbread men and Christmas biscuits.”
There’s a knock at the door that stops any talk of magic and vampires in its tracks as Leah, who’s closest, gets up to answer the door. As always when they’re expecting Charlie, Hari’s wand is at home rather than in her hair.
It’s not Charlie who walks in behind Leah, however. A pretty young woman Hari recognises from the photos in the hallway comes in, and Billy lights up.
“Rachel!” he says, utter delight all over his face. “You didn’t say you were coming!”
Jacob’s sister stops as she realises how many people are in the room, and Hari can’t help feeling how tense Jacob has become in his position on the floor. She puts one hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently as he leans into it.
“I thought I’d surprise you,” Rachel says, looking around the room in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting half the reservation to be here.”
Her gaze settles on Hari, presumably as the only person in the room she doesn’t know, and eyes the way she’s sitting with Jacob. As Billy explains the hockey game, Hari looks to Paul, who gets up and joins her and Jacob to make space for Rachel next to her father. He presses into Jacob’s space so they’re touching shoulder to hip, and Hari worms her way out of the chair now that Jacob has someone with him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she tells Rachel, holding out a hand once she’s stood up. “I’m Hari, Paul’s girlfriend.”
Everyone in the room startles a little, and Hari realises no one present has ever used the word girlfriend to describe what she is to Paul.
“Nice to meet you too,” Rachel says, looking from Hari to Paul and her brother. “How do you know my dad?”
Billy booms a laugh, cutting through the strange tension in the room.
“Aside from being Paul’s girlfriend?” he asks rhetorically. Rachel wrinkles her nose and Hari realises she has no reason to associate Paul with her father. “Hari’s godfather was distantly related to us. She came here to discuss family business and ended up staying. She’s become one of us, hasn’t she son?”
Jacob nods from where he’s gradually shrinking into Paul’s side. Hari knows how conflicted he feels about his sisters, cannot imagine how hard this must be for him.
She offers Rachel a drink, doesn’t miss how her eyebrows draw together at the fact Hari knows what’s in the Blacks’ fridge. Hari wonders briefly what her face would do if she found out Hari put most of it there.
She pops into the kitchen to get Rachel a coke and a glass with some ice and when she gets back, Charlie has arrived and Jared has joined Paul and Jacob on the floor to free a seat for him. Seeing Jacob’s visible comfort as he sits so close to his pack settles Hari a little.
“Anyone else want a drink while I’m up?” she asks. Everyone does, and Charlie insists on helping her with them before he sits down.
“So,” he says as Hari pulls beers out of the fridge and passes them over. “Did we know Rachel was coming?”
“Apparently not,” she replies, nodding at his raised eyebrow. “She said she wanted to surprise them.”
Charlie thinks about that as he opens the bottles. Hari collects cans of pop for the teenagers and lets him stew.
“She loves them,” he says eventually. “But I’m not sure she considers the impact her breezing in has on Jacob.”
Hari nods again, both at his words and the implied warning in them. Jacob isn’t alone looking after his father anymore.
“You look happy,” she realises as she watches him put the beer tops in the recycling and they turn to go back to the living room. “Excited for Christmas?”
“Bella’s coming to live with me in the new year,” Charlie admits, a blush stealing its way up his neck as he grins at her. “Long-term, this time.”
Hari stops walking as she registers what he’s just said.
“That’s such good news, Charlie,” she says genuinely, tucking two cans under one arm so she can give him half a hug with the other one. “I’m so pleased for you. Let me know if I can do anything to help prepare for when she gets here.”
She hopes she’s not overstepping, but Charlie’s laugh as he releases her puts that worry to rest.
“You probably know more about teenage girls than I do,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush steals across his cheeks. Happiness looks good on him, Hari decides. “So I’ll call you.”
Billy sees the grins the two of them are sporting when they make it back to the others and can’t help asking.
“Charlie’s got news,” Hari says vaguely. “I won’t ruin it for him.”
The room is collectively delighted as Charlie repeats himself, and even Jacob perks up as he hears his childhood friend will be coming home. Hari watches the magic around him flutter as she climbs back into the chair, dangling a leg over Paul’s shoulder so he can hold onto her ankle and hums in consideration.
By the time the preferred Canadian team have been beaten by a different Canadian team (Hari’s never been so grateful for brightly coloured jerseys so she at least has some idea of who she’s supposed to be cheering for) and the interested parties have lamented how poorly the season is going compared to last year, Hari has heated up the lasagnes she brought over for dinner.
“I’m vegetarian,” Rachel says when Hari assures her there’s plenty. “Thanks though.”
Billy’s ‘since when’ is ignored when Hari realises she’s going to have to come clean.
“There’s no meat in it,” she says, eyeing Billy and Harry even as she’s talking to Rachel. “It’s vegetarian mince, and the cheese is safe too.”
Billy is staring at her like she’s betrayed him, and Harry is poking his food gingerly with a fork. Leah laughs out loud.
“It’s been vegetarian this whole time,” she tells her father. “You’ve eaten it before and liked it so don’t you start.”
“It’s good for your cardiac health to reduce red meat,” she tells Billy. “And it’s not like you ever noticed.”
Billy sighs, muttering to Charlie about the cheek of young people (as if she’s not closer to his age than his son’s) when Jacob wraps his arms around her from behind her. His whispered thanks into her hair makes Hari squeeze him a little tighter, winking at Seth as he mouths the same at her across the kitchen. Rachel is frowning as she picks up a fork.
She engages with the others through dinner and ignores Hari entirely, aside from watching her carefully as Jacob sits next to her and Paul holds her hand as he gets her a fresh beer from the fridge.
“She’s jealous,” Leah tells her as they walk back to the pack house. “She ran away from all her responsibilities, and she’s spent the last couple of years picking them up and putting them down as it suits her while Billy fawns and Jacob quietly cleans up her mess. Now she’s turned up expecting the same thing and she’s faced with not only less attention but also the realisation that her family is relying on someone other than her. It’s stupid since she never does a thing to help anyway, but it’s still true. Plus, Paul was so into her when he was in high school, and now she barely exists to him.”
The words are harsh, but Leah has proved herself good at reading people several times in the months Hari has known her. She feels a flicker of pity for Rachel.
“It might sound bad, but I honestly don’t care,” Hari tells Leah. “Rachel isn’t anything to do with me. If my presence helps Jacob, his sister and her feelings aren’t going to make a lick of difference.”
She feels a warmth in her bones when she sees the approving smile on Leah’s face.
Jared delights in telling Hari all about Paul’s teenage crush on Rachel when they get home, and Paul bundles his brother out the door for a play fight once he’s had enough of being teased. Sam is quick to reassure her that it’s long gone, and Hari laughs outright.
“It’s sweet,” she tells him and Leah as she watches the two men wrestling in human form outside. “I can just imagine him all gangly and awkward. You should’ve seen me aged eleven when George would come and talk to Ron at school. I’m lucky my blushes don’t show up so well as they do on Ginny. She’s all freckles and tomato complexion when she’s embarrassed.”
Hari is mildly concerned it’s all going to come to a head, but Rachel apparently isn’t the confrontational sort. She avoids Hari as much as possible, which suits Hari just fine.
Christmas is one of the best Hari has ever had. Hermione, Andromeda and the Weasleys arrive early for breakfast (dinner, for them, and hadn’t the scheduling been an absolute nightmare) before exchanging presents and listening to George and Jared singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs. It’s over to the Blacks once the magical group have departed with Teddy, for more presents and Christmas lunch. Magic is at a minimum since Charlie is invited, and half an hour before he arrives Hari watches Seth digging through his box of Wheezes products with a sense that the police chief will know it all sooner or later.
Once they’re home, Sam and Leah disappear for a private present exchange and Jared goes to visit his mum, leaving Paul and Hari to curl up on the couch with hot chocolate and one of the hundreds of holiday films they insist she must see as part of her cinematic education. As a very large man with a strong accent descends on a warehouse searching for a toy, Paul takes her empty mug from her hands and kisses her breathless.
“We don’t do thanksgiving, as you well know,” he tells her once he releases her. “But I’ve always used Christmas as a time to count my blessings. I just want you to know that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m so grateful that you came here to talk to Billy in person and completely changed my life.”
“I love you,” she says in reply as he drops a kiss onto her forehead. “I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”
“I love you too,” Paul tells her seriously, and she can feel it radiating across the bond. “You’ve given me so much joy. I hope I can give you even a little bit of that back.”
Hari stares at him, bemused. Doesn’t he know that he already has?
“Paul,” she says, cupping his face carefully. “I’m happier with you than I ever thought was possible. Here, with you, I get to be wholly who I am, not the Chosen One, not the Girl Who Lived, not the Woman Who Won. You’ve given me a life I didn’t know I could even wish for.”