A/N: This plot bunny wouldn't quit gnawing at my ankles, so I wrote it. It presumes that Voldie is dead and Harry has come to Forks to get away from all of the 'Boy Who Won' hype and madness. Not surprisingly, Jacob has imprinted on Harry, but the Elders aren't happy about one of their own imprinting on a scrawny little Brit boy. This is a Harry Potter/Twilight crossover that indulges my newest guilty pleasure: Harry/Jacob fics.
Disclaimer: I don't own either of these characters, or the Quileute tribe. I would not mind at all if one of the Pack imprinted on me, but I'm not making anything from this work. This is written solely to entertain, and to honor both of these original works who have been enjoyed by so many.
WARNING: this is a SLASH piece, with mention of young men having SEX. If you don't like that kind of stuff, then please don't read it! While this is not a 'bodice ripper', it's still SLASH!
Harry Potter and the Obstinate Elders
Harry Potter and Jacob Black were cuddled together in bed after a particularly satisfying bout of lovemaking. Not that every time they made love wasn't satisfying—Harry was still a bit amazed by his lover's stamina, while Jacob was still blissfully unaware of the silent, wandless spells Harry used on a regular basis to keep their loving neat and magically mess-free. Maybe one day Harry would tell him about that, and about the healing spells he cast after every passionate encounter…but probably not. Even after several months together, Jacob still tended to have moments when he became overprotective of his imprint. It was one of the things that Harry found endearing, but also a little annoying; he wasn't made of glass, after all. Given Jacob's size—his 'wedding tackle' was on the largish size relative to his frame—and that he was pushing seven feet tall, Jacob Black was one very well endowed male, indeed. Since Harry was on the smallish end of the scale, they were more than a bit mismatched. So, the spells; which Harry had learned from a thin little volume he'd owl ordered when he decided that he and Jacob were, in fact, going to do 'it'. Between the cleaning, stretching and lubricating spells, as well as an occasional healing spell afterward, Harry could manage Jacob's size quite well, thank you very much! Besides, his research into the mechanics of the act revealed that a certain amount of trauma was only to be expected; the muggle books he'd perused were quite clear on that, as well as how to deal with it (and when to seek medical attention!).
Well, as long as Harry could do magic (and kept his potions cabinet properly stocked), neither he nor Jacob had anything to worry about. So, why make his overprotective boyfriend worry needlessly about just what he might be doing to his much smaller lover, who loved nothing more than to be pounded into the mattress by the shapeshifter?
At any rate, Harry was curled up against Jacob's chest, basking in the afterglow. Because of their relative sizes, Harry fit neatly into the space between Jacob's chin and knees, and Jacob loved nothing more than to pull Harry to him and wrap his arms and legs around the wizard. From Harry's point of view, there was nothing better than to be curled up like that. It gave him a feeling of being not only protected (as if he needed that!) but also cherished, which Jacob certainly did.
Jacob sighed, and Harry immediately picked up the signs of an impending Deep Conversation. Well, that was fine by him; given what was going on with them, there was probably only one thing bothering Jacob enough to make him interrupt their cuddle time.
"I talked to my dad today," Jacob began, before falling silent.
"And?" Harry asked, after several long moments had passed.
"The elders aren't going to change their minds anytime soon," Jacob sighed.
Harry shrugged, which made Jacob pull him a bit closer. "Well, it's not like we expected anything different," he said quietly. "I think it's time I had a little talk with them."
"Harry, love, it's not that I don't think that you're incredibly persuasive when you want to be," he began, only to be cut off by a muffled giggle. Harry's fingers were dancing along his ribs, and he was deathly ticklish there.
"When I want to be?" Harry smirked, soothing his lover by running the palms of his hands over Jacob's sensitive spots.
"Okay, all the time," Jacob gave in easily, turning his head down so that he could look into Harry's brilliant green eyes. "I just…" he began, then stopped, shaking his head.
"I know that they're your tribal elders, love, and respecting them is something that's breed into you," Harry smiled up. "I just want them to be fully aware of what they're doing by refusing to acknowledge that I'm your imprint…and that my magic has responded to the imprint by binding me to you, as well. If they can't accept us, then we'll have no choice but to leave La Push."
Jacob winced as Harry cut right to the core of the problem. The Elders were being difficult about Jacob's imprinting on a male, and had gone so far as to threaten to ban Harry from the Reservation.
"I know that you don't want to leave, and neither do I," Harry continued. "For the first time in my life, I'm in a place where I think I truly belong, with the very best person in all of the world for me to be with." He stretched up to place a gentle kiss on Jacob's chin. "And to be perfectly honest, I think that they're cutting off their noses to spite their faces. You're a powerful Alpha, and your place is here."
"Not to mention the advantages of having our very own tribe wizard," Jacob smirked. "The Pack might not need much in the way of magical healing, but what about the rest of the tribe? We're not a rich people, in terms of money; your magic can open doors for us that we never could by ourselves. Not to mention that you're also bloody stinking rich," Jacob grinned. He'd initially been a bit put off by the revelation of Harry's wealth, but quickly realized (after a few sharp whacks to the head) that Harry wasn't just another spoiled rich kid. Of course, the all-terrain powered wheelchair for his dad hadn't hurt, either.
"Let's not forget that there's also a good chance that the next generation of Rez kids may be wizards," Harry smiled. "I still think that it was something more than just the Cullen's appearances that made the Pack start shifting. As much natural magic as there is around here, I'm surprised that there aren't a few little wizards and witches running around already."
"Who knows, maybe there are?" Jacob smiled. "The old legends tell of a time when the tribe not only had the shifters to protect it, but also powerful shamen. Maybe it's time for them to show themselves once more."
Harry nodded, then snuggled closer. Merlin, did he love this feeling! "Exactly. I just want to be here to watch for the signs, so that we can begin training them as soon as the first accidental magic manifests. Then, we can debate about where to send them for their formal magical education once they're old enough."
"Why send them anywhere, when we've got Harry Potter here to train them?" Jacob laughed, then grabbed Harry's hands before the tickle-torture could resume. "I mean, who better?" he smiled, easily restraining Harry's hands while Harry play-struggled against him.
"I think that any little Quileute wizards or witches deserve better than to have to put up with me for their entire educations," Harry huffed. "Besides, there are several excellent schools here in the States; I see no reason not to send our kids to the very best."
"You just called them 'our kids'," Jacob smiled. "Are you that settled here?" Please say yes, he thought desperately.
"Prat," Harry said easily. "Of course. How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Oh, at least a couple dozen more," Jacob hugged his lover gently. "Then a few dozen more tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, and the day after that…."
"Prat," Harry repeated, his voice full of love. "I hate to tell you this, Mr. Black, but you're stuck with me for the duration."
Jacob sighed dramatically, while inside he was doing backflips of joy. "Well, it's a hard life, but I'll try to be strong," he snickered.
"You are such a git," Harry said once again, turning his back to Jacob and spooning close. "It's a good thing that I love you."
"Yeah," Jacob said, before drifting off to sleep.
Harry, meanwhile, lay awake for some time, thinking about what he might do to convince the Elders that what he and Jacob had was as real and valuable as any other imprinted pair.
Like many other tribes in the Pacific Northwest, the Quileute Elders held their private meetings in the tribe's sweat lodge. Unlike many of these other tribes, their totem poles rarely displayed the wide variety of animal figures commonly seen in the region. Instead, the Quileute tribe tended to concentrate on wolves (for obvious reasons), with the occasional whale or salmon totem to break up the monotony, as well as to remind them of their seagoing past.
In contrast to the tribe's 'big house', where most public events were held, the sweat lodge was a smallish, more intimate building. A central fire pit was surrounded by a single ring of seats for perhaps two dozen men, if they didn't mind a bit of a squeeze. On this evening, however, there were less than half that many; the five tribal elders and their closest friends and advisors.
The pipe had already made one circuit of the room—tonight it was some of Old Man Uley's special blend of indica, peyote, chopped mushroom caps and just a pinch of nightshade—and was starting around again when the door to the lodge slammed open.
"Knock, knock," a voice rang out, and the Elders gave a collective gasp as Harry Potter stepped purposefully into the room.
"I suppose you're wondering why I called you all here tonight," the British man began, grinning at his own joke. Then he paused, sniffed the air, and gave the man currently holding the pipe a gimlet stare. "Well, that explains much," he huffed, then shrugged.
"No, no, don't get up on my account," he went on, and then waved the polished stick he was holding in an intricate pattern. The few men who had just been trying to stand abruptly sat back down, and from the squirming, none of the group were able to rise. "Now that we're all comfortable, I think there's something that all of you should know," he went on calmly.
"You have no right to be here!" one of the older men croaked.
"Leave now, Outsider," another chimed in.
"Harry, I think…" Billy Black put in, trying to avoid what he feared was about to happen.
"Billy, you know that I respect you, but just this once, shut it," Harry snapped. "I'm going to have my say, and then I'll go; not one bloody minute before time."
"We will not hear you, Outsider," yet another of the Elders barked. "You and that traitor to our ways, Jacob Black, have been banished by the tribe! We have spoken!" he finished, then crossed his arms in a gesture of finality.
"See, I have a couple of problems with that," Harry went on conversationally. He made no move to sit, but was twirling his stick casually in his hand. "First of all, Jacob Black is no traitor, not to you or to anyone else. He's probably the most loyal soul you'll ever find."
"So why did he send you to speak for him? Is he afraid to face us?"
Harry just snickered at the absurdity of that question. "Jacob? Afraid of you?" he repeated. "Not bloody likely. No, Jacob doesn't even know I'm here right now; he thinks that I'll be speaking with you two days from now at the next public meeting."
"And just what is it that is so important that you felt the need to disturb us here?" yet another of the older men grated.
"Actually, several things," Harry grinned. "First of all, you may have noticed that you've all become a captive audience. I wonder what could have caused that?" he snickered, as several of the men struggled (and failed) to rise once more.
"I don't know what kind of trick…" one began, only to be cut off by the young man with the stick.
"Trick? Oh, it's not a trick. It's maaaaaagic!" Harry drew out the word for emphasis. "As in, I'm a wizard, and all of you…are not," he finished, smiling brightly at the irritated men around him.
Various snorts of disbelief and doubt were his answer, which only made Harry laugh out loud. "Oh, I know, there's no such thing as magic, right? Just like there's no such thing as young men who can turn into great bloody wolves just because there are a few vampires in the neighborhood," he went on, suddenly serious. "Yes, I know all about the 'Cold Ones', and the tribe's protectors…including my boyfriend, Jacob. I've met the Cullens, and let me tell you, for bloodsuckers, they're actually not a bad lot."
"Who told you?" was the most prevalent of the statements thrown at him after this revelation. At least, it was the one that Harry choose to answer.
"Actually, no one told me," the black-haired man said easily. "I rather figured it out myself. And, let me tell you, it turns out that the reality here in the Colonies," he said, deliberately using an old Britishism for the United States, "is not at all like I studied at my alma mater in Scotland."
"They teach about vampires and shapeshifters in Scotland?" Billy Black sounded as if he honestly wanted to know.
"They do if you go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Harry smirked. "Remember, I already said that I'm a wizard; doesn't it make sense that I'd go to a school for wizards and witches?"
"Wizards and witches don't really exist," yet another voice chimed in, to general murmurs of agreement.
"Oh, really? Then stand up," Harry fixed a stare on the man who'd spoken last. "Oh, I forgot…you can't, not until I end the spell that's keeping you stuck to your seats."
"This is all some kind of trick…" another began, but once again Harry cut the protestor off in mid-sentence.
"Nah, that's just a simple sticking charm. This is a real 'trick'," the former Boy Who Lived sneered, and then waved his stick in another intricate pattern while muttering under his breath.
Instantly, the dim electric lights inside the building went out, leaving the glow from the fire pit the only illumination in the building. A breeze began to swirl around the room, and the fire in the pit began to grow…and grow…and grow. Within a few seconds, a raging inferno was leaping towards the opening in the low ceiling, and the winds were reaching gale force. As the wind began to howl, a strong, clear voice rang out over them.
"This is a 'trick', as you call it. If I wanted to, I could destroy this building and everyone in it, just by letting the wind and fire take you all. But," he said, slashing his stick downward abruptly, and speaking normally into the still, quiet air that immediately resulted, "I have no intention of harming any of you. I just want you all to understand that I'm telling the truth about my magic, and that I'm not just making this up."
"And why should we care? The decision to banish you and young Black has already been made."
Harry glanced over at Billy Black, who looked very sad as he nodded.
"So, already decided to kick us out, have you?" Harry asked. He wasn't surprised to see almost every head in the room nodding in unison. "Just because Jacob imprinted on me? Is that it?"
One of the oldest men in the room—Harry couldn't remember his name—huffed and then answered. "Yes. No, hear me out," the elder said, raising his hand as Harry began to speak again. "Regardless of how we feel about…two men together," he went on, grimacing at the very thought, "imprinting is supposed to ensure the passage of the shifter ability to the next generation. We still have no idea as to just why one of our Pack imprinted on you, but we're confident that once you're gone, Jacob will be able to find himself a nice girl and imprint on her."
Harry looked like he'd just bitten into an apple and found half a worm. "So, just to clarify; the reason you object to me as an imprint is that you think I can't have babies. Is that it?"
"Well, of course it is!" the elder replied. "No offense, but Jacob needs to father children so that the tribe will continue to have powerful protectors."
"Oh, none taken," Harry replied, sarcasm dripping from every word. He chose to ignore the several mutters of 'it's unnatural' and 'faggots' from around the room. "Well, then, I guess you need to know that, as a wizard, there are magical ways for me to bear children. And, I want lots and lots of children. All sired by my mate, Jacob Black."
Harry wasn't expecting the chorus of rough laughter that answered him, but he wasn't too terribly surprised by it, either. Certainly he'd been reticent when he'd first heard of the male fertility potions, but still….
"So, since I can have children, and intend to have children—most of whom will probably be magical, too—then problem solved! All you have to do is tell people that you've considered the matter further, and Jacob and I can both stay here in La Push."
"And then tell people that you're a wizard who's going to be pregnant? Just what kind of fools do you take us for, Potter?"
"Actually, there are laws to prevent you from telling people who don't already know about the Pack about me," Harry smiled. "Your people, the Pack, the Cullens…since you already know about, well, the wolves and the vamps; it's actually a bit of a gray area in the International Statues of Secrecy, but I think we'll be okay if we just keep it our little secret."
"And if we don't?" an angry voice demanded.
"Then the American Department of Magical Affairs will send a team of Oblivators here to La Push and erase the memories of anyone who's learned of magic that shouldn't," Harry answered easily. "And before you ask; yes, they can and will do that," he went on, overriding several comments that he really didn't want to hear. "The Wizarding World takes its secrecy very seriously, and they'll have absolutely no compunction about coming here and mind-wiping the entire tribe, if that's what it takes."
"They can't do thaaaaaaaaaaww!" The elder who'd just spoken up suddenly disappeared. In his place, a small burro sat, stuck to the bench, shaking his head in confusion.
"I assure you, they can and will," Harry said. "I can also assure you that they'll be able to do pretty much anything they want to all of you, including turn you all into jackasses. And, while I'm sure the Pack would try their best to defend you, how well do you think that they'll do against wizards on broomsticks firing spells down on them from hundreds of feet in the air. Oh, I did mention that we can fly on broomsticks, didn't I?" he finished sweetly.
"B…broomsticks?" one of the Elders asked weakly, watching the burro struggle to stand. It was becoming quite agitated, and the men on either side of it were leaning as far away from it as they could.
"Broomsticks," Harry said firmly. "In fact, there are several sports that we play on broomsticks." Without appearing to look in that direction, he waved his stick and the burro shrank down until it was a small, very angry squirrel. Of course, the squirrel was also still stuck to the bench, but all it could do was chitter angrily at the young wizard, who was still talking. "Quodpot is the favorite on this side of the Pond, but personally I prefer Quidditch. If you'd like, I could see about arranging for some of you to go to a few games?" he asked. He wasn't really surprised that no one leaped up to take him up on his offer.
"Harry…this is all so unexpected. Can we have some time to think about it?" Billy Black asked carefully.
Harry smiled down at his future father-in-law. "Of course, Billy. Just remember; Jacob will probably want to name our first boy after you." As Billy beamed at the thought of having a grandson and namesake, Harry raised his head and spoke to the rest of the Elders. "Take all the time you want, but remember this: as a friend, a wizard can be a powerful ally. As an enemy, well," he shrugged, letting the threat hang. "Now, before I go, let me give you a little demonstration, just to help you make your decision."
For the next few minutes, the Elders of the Quileute tribe were literally spellbound as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Won, Scourge of the Dark Lord, Lord Potter, Lord Black, Order of Merlin First Class gave them a show. Flowers of all colors and shapes sprang from the logs that supported the walls and roof of the sweat lodge, a kaleidoscope of lights and sparks flashed before their eyes, and exotic birds filled the air. The wolf totems around the room sprang to life, growling and snapping at those around them. Most of the Elders found themselves floating in the air before being re-stuck to their seats, and a couple of them who wouldn't quit demanding to be released were also turned into squirrels.
Finally, when the Elders were thoroughly stunned and overwhelmed at what they'd seen, the sweat lodge instantly returned to normal, leaving only Harry Potter standing there, smiling.
"And that, gentlemen, concludes this evening's demonstration," he said, throwing them an exaggerated bow. "Now, I'll take my leave of you."
Reaching into a back pocket of his well-worn jeans, Harry pulled out a rolled-up newspaper. He tossed it to a still-grinning Billy Black, who caught it easily. "A friend of mine said that I'd need this, and she was right. I suggest that you read it before you make your decision." And with that, Harry Potter disappeared with a faint 'pop'.
"Harry?" Jacob's voice, calling from the living room, reached Harry's ears.
"In the kitchen, love," he called back, never missing a beat as he stirred the pimento cheese he was making. Harry had won over the Pack with his cooking, and he was determined to keep them all happy and well-fed…and thoroughly supportive of he and Jacob's relationship. To date, his strategy had worked well; even Paul and Sam had finally come around when they realized that being pissy to Harry meant no food from his kitchen.
"Harry, did you crash the Elder's meeting last night?" Jacob asked casually, coming up behind his lover and wrapping an arm around him. Of course, his other hand reached into the large bowl Harry was stirring and scooped out a generous taste on his fingers.
"Beast! Stay out of the bowl!" Harry laughed, smacking the food thief on the hand with his spoon. "That's for sandwiches for tonight!"
"Harry…did you molest the Elders last night?" Jacob asked again, not at all repentant about the delicious bite he'd just stolen.
"Maybe?" Harry answered, turning around so that he could use the full-force puppy-dog eyes on his boyfriend.
Jacob snorted, knowing full well what had happened. "You turned John Tallpines into a jackass," he said. It was not a question.
"Well, he deserved it! And, I didn't leave him an ass for very long," Harry huffed. Then, since the eyes weren't working, he began to pout.
Jacob wasn't buying it. "That paper you left with dad…just when were you going to tell your boyfriend about being 'The Savior of the Wizarding World'? You know, 'Slayer of the Most Evil Dark Lord in Centuries' and 'Greatest Wizard since Merlin himself'?
"Er, um…today?" Harry blushed furiously, despite how he hated all of those titles.
Jacob stepped back and crossed his massive arms over his equally massive chest. "Oh? Well, I can't wait to hear about it," he said, his face grim.
"It's really not at all like the Quibbler said," Harry began, then sagged against the counter top. "There was this homicidal maniac, and a prophesy that said that one of us had to kill the other, except that he couldn't die because he'd split his soul into a bunch of pieces, so my friends and I…."
As Harry had been rambling, Jacob's eyebrows had climbed further and further up his forehead. Finally, with a sigh, he sank down into a chair there at the kitchen table and just shook his head.
"Harry, stop. Just…stop. Now, come here," Jacob commanded, opening his arms.
Harry gave his own sigh, wiped his hands, and went to his lover, who enfolded him in strong brown arms.
"I probably should have told you before now," Harry began softly, "but it's not something I like to talk about."
"I can understand that," Jacob soothed, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead, right where his scar was. "I read all about your scar, too; how it was actually a horse-cruxy thing, and had part of that wizard's soul stuck in your head. Then there was that section about 'Harry's Adventures at Hogwarts'. Did you really kill a 60 foot snake with a sword when you were twelve?"
"You read it? That edition of the Quibbler?" Harry drew back, shocked. He'd never thought that Billy might…but of course he would, and had passed it along to his son.
"Every word of it, including the article about how you left England to search for the elusive crumpled-horn snorkack," Jason grinned. "So, have you found it yet?" he smirked.
"No, because it doesn't exist," Harry laughed. "You'd have to meet Luna—the girl who wrote the article—for that to make any sense. I left Britain so that I could be 'just Harry', not all that other stuff."
"I look forward to meeting her, and all of your other wizarding friends," Jacob said, making a mental note to talk about all of this with his lover later, at great length. "When can they come for a visit?"
Harry was completely taken aback by the question. "Pardon?"
Jacob's grin got even larger. "I asked, when can they come for a visit? Since it seems that the Elders have decided to allow both of us to stay here on the Rez for as long as we like, there's no reason why they shouldn't."
Harry's face lit up with excitement. "They did? We can stay? Oh, Jake, that's great!" he crowed, throwing his arms around his mate.
Jacob's laugh boomed through the house. "Oh yeah. Seems that they've decided that the 'most powerful wizard since Merlin' and defeater of super-evil Dark Lords might actually be good to have around, in case another group of rogue leeches decides to come to town." Getting a good grip on Harry's bum with both hands, Jason effortlessly stood up, bringing Harry with him.
Harry wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and leaned in for a kiss. "Oh, they did, did they?" Then, his eyes narrowed. "What about acknowledging us as a couple? Are they going to accept that I'm really your imprint?"
"From what Billy said, they weren't happy about that, but yes; they'll acknowledge the validity of our bond. Apparently, there was some talk about not wanting to spend the rest of their lives as barnyard animals, or small furry critters in the forest," Jacob laughed as he walked towards their bedroom.
Harry had the grace to look sheepish before burying his head on Jacob's shoulder. "I might have turned a few of them into squirrels," he admitted.
"And then, my dad was muttering something about how wizards can get pregnant, and he didn't want his grandson to be born until nine months after a formal ceremony," Jacob went on, then paused. "You were going to tell me about all of this—especially the 'lots and lots of babies part—weren't you?" he demanded.
"Well…." Harry began, but was cut off.
"Because I intend to put lots of babies into you, Harry James Potter, starting right now!" Jacob smirked as he carried his lover into their room and kicked the door shut.
"I think I'm going to like that," Harry smiled at his mate, before magically sealing the room against entry and sound. He decided that he'd talk with Jacob about the rather involved process that would be needed for him to conceive at a later date….
When the Pack arrived a short time later, they were happy to find fresh homemade pimento cheese on the counter, and helped themselves to bread that Harry had baked earlier that day. Between that, and the treacle tarts that Harry had prepared, they really didn't miss Harry and Jacob for several hours.
And that, too, was perfectly all right.
A/N: recent I got a flame from someone knocking me for ruining one of my fics by mentioning homosexuality. Why can't people read the warnings? If you don't like slash, why do you read it? I work hard to put appropriate warnings on all my fics. I just don't understand...
After all, while breeder fics aren't really my bag, I've read a large number of good ones. And, I haven't flamed a single one for discussing the blatant displays of affection that heterosexuals engage in, no matter how personally disgusting I find them to be. Ewww...breeders...nasty!