Summary:
Set in the There Be Dragons, Harry Universe, this snippet is based on the prompt of what an adopted Harry would look like with Maury's Circle. In this snippet, Maury and Ryuusen rescued Harry on the night that his inheritance emerged. He's stayed with them in Nevarah ever since.
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:
G – Suitable for children or teens/all readers.
WARNINGS: OC's. OOCness. TBDH Universe. AU. Other warnings will be added as I see fit.
A/N: Hi guys! I've got a short Maury-centric snippet for you. I am slowly trucking along with Chapter 107 in between of prepping for my Sands of Time Novel Release. Thanks for this prompt goes to cinnamon roll qtsarahanne. :P Thanks for the prompt! ~Enjoy! -Scion
If you have a prompt you'd like me to try, feel free to mention it. I can't promise to get to it right away, but if the muse strikes, you may get lucky.
Harry stifled a yawn as he shuffled into the kitchen. He'd barely slept for the night and had finally given into the hunger pangs that offered enough motivation for rolling out of bed. He froze in mid-step, his eyes catching up to what his instincts had already seen.
"...Beaker?" he rasped.
There was a massive, feathered hulk curled up atop the far side kitchen counter. A fluffed ruff of cream-and-black feathers with darker speckles near the top.
Beaker, Maury's Joker, liked to perch on things barely big enough to contain his avian glory. He blinked one bleary eye at Harry's sleepy self.
A rumbled chirrup was meant to be a morning greeting.
Harry caught himself in time to return the trilled greeting. He shuffled closer for the slight nuzzle to his messy bedhead.
Beaker whuffled, softly.
"Breakfast?" Harry asked, stifling another yawn. "Maybe some pancakes?"
Beaker perked up.
Pancakes were a favorite, since Harry was the only one who actually bothered to make the delicious, fluffy things. The Pareya of Ryker's Bane were decent cooks, but also rather cranky when it came to things like adjusting recipes and mealtimes.
Beaker had simply given up on explaining that he needed to eat a bit earlier than the rest and maybe something a bit less troublesome. He'd prefer something fresh or something sweet. Both were available options, but it also meant finding them himself.
That was not an option. It was easier to wait it out rather than set off on a short hunt.
Still, Maury didn't like it when Harry cooked for him. He didn't like to upset Maury or Harry, but this was an issue they needed to sort out on their own.
Mostly.
Beaker shrank in on himself, watching with hooded eyes as Harry sleepily found his way around the kitchen.
The way that he moved suggested that he'd done this sort of thing before. Meal prepped and cooked, while half-awake. Or half-asleep. As if he'd done this a hundred times before.
Beaker turned the realization over and over in his grumpy brain. There were moments and glimpses in between of their interactions that confirmed his conclusions. He did not like the answer that he came up with. It certainly made more sense in his head now, than it had a few minutes ago. No wonder Maury didn't want him to beg for pancakes.
That was a difficult call to make. He liked pancakes. He liked Harry. He especially liked it when there was cinnamon in the pancakes. Sometimes Harry even put apples, or chunks of bacon. Tasty tidbits.
Maury certainly wasn't going to make him pancakes and neither were his cranky Bonded. Perhaps he should find a breakfast cafe that made good ones. Then he could buy extra and give them to Harry.
And Maury.
Beaker nearly smiled. That was a good plan. He would try that next time. Maybe it would work out alright. There was just the issue of now. Maury wouldn't be happy and if Maury wasn't happy, then Ryu would be irritated. When Ryu was irritated, they all felt it, whether Ryu actually intended that or not.
"It'll be done just now," Harry said, cracking a yawn. He threw a sleepy smile over one shoulder, expertly wrangling the griddle without a second glance.
Beaker sat and waited. The more he contemplated, the more he knew he ought to say something. He waited though, because Harry looked so soft and peaceful there. Just content to stand by the stove and make tasty things.
"All done," Harry announced, balancing two plates in hand. One for him, one for Beaker. He spelled the remainder of the pancakes into a nice, towel-wrapped bundle. "Syrup?"
Beaker unfolded one of his thin, feathered wings, stretching it out to brush gently against Harry's left side. "Syrup's good."
Harry set his own plate on the island behind him and then carefully threaded Beaker's curved claw-hands around the second plate. "Good?" He checked. Another yawn slipped past.
Beaker sniffed at the pancakes as his mouth watered. They looked so good. "Thank you," he croaked. "Tasty. Always like tasty." He leaned forward to nuzzle Harry's face, letting his scent wash over the young dragel.
It was meant to be a gesture of happiness and pride.
He glanced up in time to catch the faint shadow that danced across Harry's face. A shadow that was so brief and fleeting, if he hadn't been looking for something, perhaps he wouldn't have noticed it.
"...Harry?"
Steady green eyes met his gaze. Harry backtracked to the island, hiking himself up to sit on the countertop in a mimic of Beaker. He sat cross-legged on the cool surface, balancing the pancakes on one knee.
"Yeah?"
Beaker didn't frown, though he wanted to. Instead, he nodded to Harry's plate and cast the same kind of pancake-cutting spell that separated the fluffy specimen into nice, bite-sized pieces. His stomach growled impatiently.
"Good pancakes," Beaker said, stuffing his mouth. He polished them off almost as quickly as Harry.
"There's extra," Harry offered. "We could eat them before Oret wakes up and-"
"We could eat what before I wake up?" Maury asked, flatly. He stood in the kitchen doorway, his thin arms folded over his chest, a mild look of disapproval on his face.
Harry twitched, banishing both empty plates to the kitchen sink. "...Pancakes?" he tried.
Maury's frown deepened, but this time, it was directed solely to Beaker. "What did I tell you about making Harry cook breakfast for you?"
Beaker shifted, uncomfortably. His feathered ruff fluffed out in agitation. He hadn't asked Harry anything, though maybe he should have stopped him if it was going to lead to lectures and grumpiness. "Was up. Hungry," he said, taking care not to whine.
Maury sighed. He moved to stand in front of him, leaning forward for their usual morning greeting. He stroked cool fingers through Beaker's feathers, aiming to settle him and pleased when it worked. "You can always call me," he reminded. "Or the Twins, if you need to. You know we'd come."
Beaker made a sound of disagreement in his throat, his ruff flaring once more. The Twins had been pissed the last time he'd dared to disturb their rest. There was no way he'd be bothering them again.
Ever.
"Alright, alright, just me then," Maury soothed. "It's fine, love. It's fine." He attempted to smooth the feathers back again, but this time, they remained stubbornly sticking up. He bit his lip in worry. He'd focused so much of his attention and energy on Harry, that now, it was beginning to show. He'd have to make sure to pay attention to his Circle, before his Bonded ended up at each other's throats.
Beaker gave a sharp clicking sound instead.
Maury sighed. "Shhh. It's alright. I'll-talk to them." He wasn't going to talk to them, but Beaker didn't need to know that. The Twins were Gheyo-words would not work, but actions would. He'd simply have to make his actions very clear.
"It's just pancakes, Oret," Harry's voice was careful. "I just-"
"You've only been here a month," Maury said, turning to him. There was a deep sadness in his dark eyes that seemed to hide a wealth of words behind them.
Harry swallowed the excuses on the tip of his tongue. While Ryuusen and Maury hadn't actively told him to stay out of the kitchen, they'd gently discouraged him from cooking for the entire Circle and gone out of their way to make sure he had plenty of snacks and options.
They didn't want him to feel that he had to earn a place with them. His frantic attempts at cooking, cleaning and trying to stay out of everyone's way had only seemed to make things worse. Being told to just stand and watch, hadn't helped at all.
Harry struggled to hide a shudder at the empathic feedback swirling around him. He could feel that Maury was sad and Beaker was angry, but none of their emotions were directed to him. Simply shared between each other until it faded to an acceptable throb.
Maury caught his chin, tipping it up until their eyes met. There was no judgement there, just understanding and a bit of lingering sadness. "You can cook whenever you want to or whenever you feel like it," he said, firmly. "You do not, however, have to go out of your way to make meals or snacks just because you feel you need to make yourself useful. They're my Bonded. They know how to fend for themselves or ask me to meet their needs."
Harry pulled away, unable to hold that gaze a second longer. "It's just-"
"The fourteenth day in a row that you've made pancakes," Maury said, softly. "And I know you like variety in your meals, so it can't be that you just have a pancake craving." A glint of humor flared up. "Unless of course you're pregnant, at which I believe we ought to be having a completely different conversation than the one we're having now."
Predictably, Harry flushed a healthy, bright red. The memory of his reaction to that particular bit of news had been quite-explosive. "I'm not-!" He sputtered, unable to get the word out. "Oret, I'm not! I haven't even-"
"Of course you aren't," Maury said, lips twitching. "If you were actually pregnant, you'd be sleeping a lot more and eating every single fruit in sight."
Harry whined, face still pink. "Oret-!"
"It's a Submissive thing," Maury said, relenting. "Especially for us Nameless, we tend towards the fruit. Other elements tend towards the meat. No one really knows why."
Beaker rumbled in reassurance from his perch on the opposite kitchen counter.
Maury reached out, folding Harry into a hug. He nuzzled the top of Harry's head and held him in silence for several long minutes. "You are my precious mentored fledgling," he murmured. "An honored guest in our home and among my Bonded. You are like a son. Which means you are to be spoiled often, scolded occasionally and smothered with every single bit of love I have in my shriveled up old heart."
Harry clung to him, hands shifting to claws to dig into the rich material of Maury's dressing gown. He was fairly certain no one in Ryker's Bane had a shriveled heart. A tightly guarded heart, maybe, but they were all looking after him in their own ways. "I'm not-it's not like-"
"You've been cleaning the house, clearing the yard, cooking the food, doing the dishes and attempting to make yourself as invisible as possible," Maury recited. "You're not invisible. You're not a nuisance and I want you here. With me, with my Circle, safely in Nevarah. I won't put you out of the house for not doing chores, I won't insist that you contribute with things like these when-"
"It's just pancakes!"
"Is it?" Maury prompted. "Tell me, did you actually get up at this hour in the morning, because you can't sleep? Because you want to be up? or because you know that Beaker likes to stay out here in the mornings and the thought of him being hungry and alone makes you feel like-"
"Stop. Please-!"
"Shhh," Maury soothed. "I'm not doing this to hurt you, Harry. I just want you to try seeing past all of that old baggage. Behind that bastard's machinations and beyond your family's stupidity-I want to see you. Your brilliant mind, your brave heart and your beautiful soul."
Harry trembled. His empathy was turning him into a blubbering mess and he hated it. There was only so much feeling that he could handle and still, his Oret wouldn't let up. Wouldn't stop surrounding him with logic, love and just a bit of light.
"Shhh." Maury began to rub a hand up and down his side. "You keep holding onto these emotions and they're eating you up inside."
"They aren't," Harry said, voice cracking. "I just wanted to make something nice for-"
"No, Harry. You didn't." Maury held him at arm's length, leaning forward to catch his eye. "You were worrying that your outburst last night might've put me or Ryuusen on edge. You thought it might be beneficial to stack the odds in your favor. You figured if nothing else, if Beaker was on your side, maybe you'd have a chance to say something in your own defense before we kicked you out."
Harry's pained warble echoed in the kitchen. The truth in black and white wasn't something he wanted to confront right now. Not like this.
Maury hummed. "We're not kicking you out. I'll tell you that as many times as you need to hear it. You don't get out of a mentorship this easily. You don't undo this." He channeled a strong, steady pulse of warmth and acceptance through the mentor-student bond.
It was easy to tell the moment that it reached Harry, because his eyes grew wide and round, before his lips trembled and the first tears fell.
"Oh, Harry." Maury pulled him back into a hug. "You aren't doing this alone anymore. I swear by Arielle's sacred heart."
Beaker gave a questioning chirp, worry evident in his golden gaze. "I didn't mean to break him," he said, uncertainly.
Maury snorted. "He's not broken. Exhausted, yes. A nervous wreck, yes. A reacting empath-absolutely. But he's not broken."
"Broken is still beautiful," Beaker said, quietly. He let his eyes speak the words that were clear in his heart.
Maury couldn't stop the blush that crept up his neck. "Stop that," he mouthed, over Harry's head.
Beaker smirked. "I'll stay out on the roof, if you prefer."
Maury rolled his eyes. He listened for a moment, until he knew for sure that Harry had just nodded off in his arms. Silly boy, he thought, relieved. Always carrying the weight of everyone else on your own shoulders. You don't have to do this alone anymore.
"It's just cold up there," Beaker said, feigning sorrow.
"Yes, my heart just bleeds," Maury scolded. "Behave. He can probably hear everything that you're-"
"Why didn't you just tell me that you were worried he was cooking out of obligation instead of personal preference?"
"Because you have a brain, you oversized feather duster!" Maury eased Harry off of the island and into his arms, reinforcing Harry's rest with a mild sleeping spell. ""Do I have to spell everything out for you?"
"When you're going to fuss at me for it later, yes," Beaker said, matter-of-factly. "We've been keeping an eye on him and stepping in when we know to step in. We don't have the same Nameless gift that you do, so if you don't tell us, we won't know."
Maury growled.
Beaker ignored it. "Let me carry him, please."
"He's not heavy."
"Maurice."
There was a long pause. Maury exhaled. "It's just upstairs and-"
"Don't make me carry both of you," Beaker warned. "You know I will. Don't think I haven't noticed that you're mirroring him. I don't have to know exactly how your powers work to know when you're burning both ends of your sanity, alright."
"I'm not burning both ends of-"
"Should I call Ryuusen?"
"Don't you dare!"
"Well?" Beaker said, unfolding his tall skinny frame, he slid off of the counter to stand on his own two feet, arms extended.
One staring contest later, he held Harry in his arms, carrying him upstairs to his new bedroom.
Pouting, Maury followed.
Beaker paused at the top of the stairs. "Where do you want him?"
Maury huffed. "With Llevan."
Beaker fluffed his feathers, but didn't comment. He led the way to Llevan's bedroom and nudged the door open with one clawed foot.
Their Beta, Llevan sat up in bed, several stacks of sorted papers around him. He greeted them with a bleary-eyed smile. "Someone up too early?"
"Just keep him sleeping," Maury said, hiding his own yawn. "Do you mind?"
"For Harry? No." Llevan shuffled a stack of papers off to the side, holding up the covers.
"I'll be on the roof tomorrow," Beaker said, quietly. He stood in the doorway, watching as Maury tucked Harry in.
Llevan's sharp gaze flickered between them and then down at Harry, who curled up at once around his pillow, as if to make himself smaller. "How about we have a standing breakfast date?" he offered, instead.
Maury swallowed.
"Just wake me when you're up," Llevan said, smoothly. "And give me five minutes. If Harry appears, we'll drag him with us." He snagged Maury's sleeve, pulling him flat across the bed and floating the rest of the papers off to the floor. "and if you're up, then we'll take you too, how does that sound?"
Maury hesitated. He tried to pull free, but Llevan did not relinquish his sleeve.
Beaker chirruped, amused. He stepped in the room, locking the door behind him. His feathers rippled and swelled, until his halfling form filled the empty space of the bedroom. He hunkered down, a pleased warble building in his throat. Across the room, Llevan smirked, pulling Maury over to his unoccupied side. "Your turn," he said, matter-of-factly. "Now you can stop worrying too, hm?"
This is NOT TBDH-canon. I just wanted to write some more of Maury, because he's a near and dear character to my heart. In this snippet version, Maury and Ryuusen actually rescue Harry from the Dursleys the night that his inheritance comes in. He hasn't met Theo or anyone else at this point and is basically just being smothered with love and acceptance from Maury and his Circle.
Beaker is a classy guy with lots of soft feathers and a habit of snacking everywhere that he can possibly get away with. He's also very attuned to Maury and is slowly picking up on Harry's quirks and needs as well. He cares deeply about his Bonded and likes to snuggle with them, whenever possible. He's also ridiculously light and tall. :P
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you want to check out some more of my original stuff/upcoming work, check out my fb page of Chera Carmichael, for some fun character cards, and and as always, THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT! ~Scion
