I've had this sitting in my drafts for a good two years and decided to just post it and write a chapter fic. What else do we do after work these days? I hope you enjoy - this is my first time writing Harmony, so I'm a little nervous.
READ THE TAGS! This won't be super light to start, but we'll get there. I will never share anything super graphic and there will be no mention of either abortion / miscarriage in my fic, which is why neither are tagged.
"Potter, Shacklebolt wants us," a familiar voice said, interrupting the man's concentration on the pile of paperwork in front of him.
"Just a mo'," Harry mumbled, tiredly signing his name on Lavender Browns' third indecent exposure violation this month. The girl couldn't keep her knickers on. He was happy that Ron's thick skull was at the least semi-penetrable. The redheaded beta listened to his mother and dropped the girl in a very public, very dramatic fashion their sixth year. Sometimes mothers really do know best.
"Brown again?" Draco Malfoy asked with a raised brow. "For all the stereotypes of alphas being unable to keep it in their pants, she's giving us a run for our money."
"Stereotypes are trash, Draco," Harry replied with an eye roll. "What does Shacklebolt want?"
"I wish I could tell you," the tall man replied, leading the way across the Department of Magical Law Enforcement bullpen to the Head Auror's office.
The pair was surprised to see the room full of the ministry's best and brightest. What were they being brought in on?
"Grandfather," Draco greeted with a respectful nod.
"Draco, Harry," Minister Abraxas Malfoy nodded, a subdued smile on his face.
Harry only nodded at his own father, the man and Sirius Black winking at him from the other corner of the office.
Kingsley Shacklebolt was quick to throw wards up, the cloying magic making the office seem even more cramped than it was with 14 people inside.
"Thank you all for joining us today," Kingsley started. "I am happy to share that we've received a promising lead on the location of the last contingent of Death Eaters. We've had aurors staked out for two days and there has been no movement, so we will need to strike before they catch wind of a raid."
"The last contingent?" Regulus Black asked with a raised eyebrow, clearly left out of this part of the mission. The man was a famed spy and notorious recluse, and Harry was surprised to see the alpha present. He didn't work for the Ministry, and was only brought in on top-secret raids, which left him wondering… why the hell were him and Draco involved?
"The very last," Shacklebolt intoned. "Nott, Macnair, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange, and… Malfoy."
Draco kept his eyes pointed at the ground, still unequipped with his grandfather's ability to pretend that his son was nothing more than mud on the sole of his dragonhide boots.
Abraxas spoke next, "Auror Moody will lead the strike team in to capture, not kill. We have reason to believe there may be prisoners inside, so we have a secondary rescue team led by Lord Black composed of Aurors Robards, Vance, Lupin, Malfoy and Potter. Lord Black will share more on the rescue mission."
Regulus cleared his throat at the title, knowing his beta older brother was still rankled by the mention of it. He pointedly didn't look at Sirius, something Harry knew to be a smart move. His godfather, for all of his good qualities, was a hothead.
"We believe there are anywhere from 2-5 prisoners inside, likely young women. The strike team will head in first to neutralize any guards watching over them. The rescue team members will be carrying portkeys to get these individuals out as soon as possible. Each portkey is set to land at St. Mungos where a team of healers will be waiting. Unspeakable Dolohov will be traveling with us to dismantle any protective wards that may have been put up. They are his design after all. Any questions?"
Draco and Harry shared a quick look, but remained silent otherwise.
"I can't risk this mission getting out," Shacklebolt stated solemnly. "We have a real chance to take out the last vestiges of the DEs today, so be prepared to leave in thirty minutes."
"This will drop us 200 yards from the entrance to the compound," Antonin Dolohov said in a lightly accented voice. Harry had always been weary of the man, stemming from his father's own disdain for him. Dolohov had jumped off a sinking ship near the end of the war and was only saved by his brilliant mind and the fact that he'd designed almost all of the spells and wards that Voldemort's side was using. He was nothing but a fairweather moralist, and though Harry wanted nothing to do with him, he knew they were lucky to have him on their side today.
Harry placed a hand on the weird, silver bowl with holes inside. It was cool to the touch, and he knew it was muggle when he realized it was metal. He made a mental note to ask his mum what the contraption was called next time he saw her.
"Three, two…" the Russian's countdown got sucked up into a gust of wind as the portkey took them from the Ministry.
"Bloody hell," Draco muttered as they landed, all of the aurors present seasoned enough not to fall on their bums after touching down in their new location.
"What?" Harry whispered back as he looked around the unfamiliar dirt-paved road.
"They're hiding out in my mum's favorite property in Turkey. Father told her it'd been seized by the Turkish government when I was eleven. She had a proper fit."
Harry let out a low whistle as he shook his head. "Add another check to the 'Lucius Malfoy is a great man' column."
"Shut up," Draco spat back. "Could you focus? I can't have you mucking this up for us."
Harry nodded, "Yessir. Focus button is flicked on."
They walked in silence the rest of the way, stopping to circle up with their team.
The two groups watched as Dolohov stripped the massive mansion of its wards, knowing that there were strong muggle-repellant spells to keep the street so silent.
"Be brave, son," James Potter murmured as he walked over to Harry, pulling the boy into a tight hug before letting him go. "I'm proud of you."
"Thank you, dad," Harry replied with a small smile of his own. "See you on the other side. Mum is making chocolate cake for tomorrow's family dinner, we can't miss that."
"There's no way I wouldn't live to see that," James winked, walking back to his team as Dolohov's motions slowed.
"Wards are down," Dolohov said through a pant, resting his hands on his knees after a long few minutes of non-stop murmuring and wand waving. "They had them all up. Disapparition, defense, tracker, you name it. They are all down. Go now, before they notice."
"Strike team, let's take these bastards down," Moody growled, his glass eye just as focused as his real one. "Black, wait for the sound of fighting to move further into the compound and then get the prisoners the hell out."
"Yessir," Regulus obeyed the seasoned, scarred auror, his body immediately stiffening into a battle stance. They were ready.
As the sound of fighting broke out, Regulus waved a hand for their group of five to charge forward.
Harry only spared a quick thought for the fact that he'd been ticketing Lavender Brown and Zacharias Smith the week before after catching them shagging in the alley behind the Leaky. And now? He was being sent to take out the last vestiges of the Death Eaters. He'd never tell anyone, knowing how trite it sounded, but he'd never felt more like an alpha than he did charging into the manor with his wand out in front of him.
The flashy white interior was now splattered with blood, though the fighting seemed to move much farther into the house.
"Dungeons are this way," Draco informed Regulus, the older man gesturing for him to lead the group.
Despite the beautifully maintained first floor, Harry felt sick as soon as he'd stepped onto the unfinished stone steps leading to the dark basement. Nothing had ever looked or smelled more ominous, and they were only halfway down the stairs.
"I'm going to be sick," Nymphadora Tonks Lupin whispered to herself as they headed towards the most wretched, despair-filled room that Harry had ever had the misfortune to smell.
"Wands out," Regulus hissed as they all reached the wooden door at the bottom of the steps.
Harry didn't know what to expect, but the whimpering and increased scent of terrified omegas as they stepped through the door was not it.
"Clear!" Regulus called quietly as he scanned the large dungeon, seeing that there were four cells with people crammed into tiny cages but no guards. "There's only four, get them out of here and I'll stand watch."
Harry moved on autopilot to the most distressing smell of hurt omega he'd ever witnessed.
It smelled like when he'd convinced the elves at Hogwarts to try and make popcorn the muggle way and they'd burnt five dutch ovens, but many, many times more acrid. Urine, feces, blood, fear, the worst scents imaginable were coming at Harry from every angle. He'd do anything he could to make sure he never smelled such an awful mixture again.
It was easy to open the cell and he had to swallow bile as he bent down to open the small cage that a naked, dirt-covered person was being held in. Why the hell was a cage necessary when they were already trapped in cells? The Death Eaters were monsters, Harry had known that since he was a child, but seeing it firsthand? He thirsted for their slow, painful deaths.
The slight scent of a warm fall day wafted from the emaciated girl he could now lay eyes on, and it had him emitting low, protective growls in the same way his father did when his mum was stressed or anxious.
"You're okay now," Harry soothed in a low, calming tone, spelling the lock free so the cage door swung open.
The girl only whimpered, huddling at the back of the cage that was lined with a threadbare towel that seemed to be the only kindness she'd received in this hellscape. She wanted nothing to do with Harry, not that he could blame her.
"Come out," Harry crooned, knees starting to ache as the cold of the dungeon floor led through his trousers. "You're safe now, I'll get you out of here."
She only shook more at what he considered to be soothing words, making Harry realize that he needed to change tactics. Not knowing if the omega was a muggle or not, he worked to keep his words as vague as possible. Not that apparating would have a muggle feeling safer in his presence... or thinking he was an ordinary muggle himself if he could blink out of one place and land in another.
"I'm here to help you get out of here… if you can crawl out or let me pick you up, we can take you far away. My name is Harry Potter."
The girl's trembling stopped, and he heard a croaky voice stutter. "Harry?"
"That's right, my name is Harry. I need you to get out of there so we can take you away. I don't know if the bad men are coming down."
Harry only felt slightly guilty for using a fear-tactic, knowing it would spur the girl into action. Next thing he knew, he had a lapful of a shivering, slip of a girl with greasy knots of hair. He belatedly felt bad for whatever mediwitch had to sort the mess out.
"There you are, good girl," Harry cooed, causing the omega to let out a happy sigh on his lap. He had no idea how old he was by looking at her quickly, the dirtiness of her features making it tough to tell her age. "Close your eyes, I'm getting us out of here."
He double-tapped the small button in his pocket, feeling more relaxed than he had all day knowing they were getting the hell out of there.
Harry was so focused on landing on his feet that he was startled half to death when the girl vomited weakly on him as he touched down in St. Mungos. He almost wished there were more than just bile on him, knowing she'd likely hadn't eaten or drank well in weeks, or months or years.
He was, thankful, however, that someone scourgified him immediately, leaving his robes clean and clear of vomit, blood and dirt.
"Sir, put her on a bed now," a healer ordered. Harry finally looked up to see the unit they were in was full of healing professionals. Draco was putting a girl of his own down on a bed in the other corner of the room, her shock of blonde hair clearly matted with dirt or blood.
The man took care to gently set her down, and was shocked at the skeletal fingers that grabbed his hand.
"Alpha," the girl croaked at him, face still covered with too much blood, dirt and other dried fluids for him to have any sense of what she looked like. Did she have freckles? Dimples? What was her smile like? Harry wanted to know everything about the nice-smelling omega.
"You're safe now," Harry rumbled again, rubbing a thick finger over the much smaller knuckles they were gripped by. "The, erm, dogtours will help you, don't worry."
A short mediwitch let out a snort as Harry butchered the word for muggle healers. He was trying his best, okay? Having a muggleborn mother didn't automatically qualify him for a muggle-exchange program.
"Alpha," she repeated, letting out a scared noise as her bed was surrounded by the St. Mungos team.
Harry watched the girl get rolled away by a team of all female healers. He was glad to see that there was some sensitivity being displayed for the four prisoners that underwent a hell that Harry never wished to see firsthand.
"Couldn't give her your robes, Potter?" Draco asked quietly. Harry looked at his friend to see he'd stripped his outer robes, clearly having given them to the likely naked girl he brought here.
"I… didn't think about it," Harry admitted guiltily, stopping himself from running a dirty hand through his hair. What kind of alpha was he, unable to serve a sweet-smelling omega in need? He'd only noticed then, too, that he didn't have a mind to even look at the girl's naked body. Her safety and fear were his top priority. All of his peers who'd spent years claiming that he was just as much of a knothead as other alphas could shove it. They knew nothing about him!
"Figures," Draco muttered, shaking his head at the most pedestrian Lord-in-Waiting that he knew.
"What now?" Harry asked, feeling slightly lost and very sick after what he'd witnessed.
"We wait for Black and Robards to arrive and follow their lead. Vance and Lupin just went back with the girls they rescued to give the healers an account of what we'd seen, but they'll be back in a moment."
The pair took a seat and only broke their silence when a healer came up to check if they needed medical attention. Thankfully, both men were without physical injuries. Mental? That remained to be seen.
Harry stood up the moment Regulus popped into the cordoned-off hallway.
"You all right?" Harry asked as his eyes scanned the man.
"I'm okay," Regulus confirmed, taking a deep breath. "Sirius lost a finger, Robards was hit with a bombarda, and they gashed Moody's good leg, but everyone is alive."
"Thank Merlin," Harry replied before asking the question he knew Draco wouldn't. "The DEs?"
"Macnair and the Lestranges are dead. Malfoy and Nott are being taken to the Ministry as we speak."
"Good," Harry murmured. "Good."
"Wotcher, Reggie!" The pink-haired Tonks greeted her cousin with more happiness than the moment deserved. "The girls are being seen to, and the Healers have our statement. Now what?"
"Back to the Ministry," Regulus said as he walked over to the nearest fireplace.
"Bugger," Draco murmured. "This is not how I expected my day to go."
"You can say that again," Harry replied, mind stuck on the girl. Would he ever see her again? Who was she? Why did it feel so right when she called him alpha?
He called out the Ministry foyer as he stepped into the Floo, stomach sinking lower as he ruminated on the broken omega he was leaving behind. Taking a calming breath, he promised himself he'd come visit her as soon as he got off tomorrow, his mum's chocolate cake be damned. Far be it from him to leave the omega wondering where he went.
You're probably confused. That's okay. Most of your questions will be answered next chapter where we'll get Hermione's POV! Let me know your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)