Chapter 3
His omega instincts immediately set off the moment he took a step inside the room. He was met with a hug that nearly knocked him to the ground. He tried to keep his cool but the force of the hug and the arms was setting him off. They reminded him of his time at the Dursleys. Panic seemed to rise within him. Most of the time he never felt really safe, always a moments notice away from wanting to flee.
“HARRY!” screamed Hermione excitedly, turning her head to face Ron “Ron, he’s here!”. She then turned back to face him “Are you alright? We overheard them talking about the Dementor attack. You must tell us everything.”
“Let the man breathe, Hermione” interjected Ron after he saw how uncomfortable Harry looked in that moment. Ron had grown quite a few inches, he had a strong presence and then Harry noticed, Ron must’ve also presented during the summer. The scent that he smelled coming from the boy was earthy, with elements of cedar wood and musk. It also had a tinge of firewood smoke to it.
To Harry, it somehow immediately felt safe, not like Uncle Vernon’s scent. His uncle’s alpha scent was unfriendly and unpleasant to him at first but after what his uncle did to him he slowly got used to it and started to seek comfort despite having mixed feelings about it. Ron’s scent on the other hand was very warm and welcome, he couldn’t help but want to seek solace in the alpha in that moment.
He must’ve been quiet, staring at Ron for a while because he suddenly felt a hand on his right shoulder and flinched from the touch. Startled, he gazed up to see Hermione reiterate her earlier question of whether he was alright.
Blinking, Harry nodded slowly while rubbing his neck. “I.. I’m okay, Hermione” his voice came out strained trying to mask the uneasiness he felt. “Just a bit overwhelmed, you know? The Dementor attack… it was intense.” He glanced around the room, searching for a distraction from the memories trying to drown him.
Ron, sensing his discomfort, moved closer, his presence a comforting shield against the shadows in his mind. “Mate, take your time” Ron said, his voice soft and reassuring. “We’ve got your back. Always.”
Harry wanted to feel grateful for the encouraging words from his friend but in that moment it was like a fire was lit from deep within him. Where were his friends during the summer? Not a single letter. Did they really have his back? He started feeling angry at having been ignored and abandoned. The emotions and hurt that he felt all threatened burst out like lava erupting from a volcano.
His chest tightened as the resentment seemed to finally bubble over the edge, memories of the lonely summer seeming to fuel his anger. "Yeah, always" he echoed, his tone tinged with bitterness. "Funny way of showing it thought, isn't it?" His gaze flickered between Ron and Hermione, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes searching his face for understanding. "Harry, we... we wanted to reach out, but Dumbledore made us swear not to," she confessed, her voice imbued with guilt. "He said it was for your own safety."
"But why?" Harry's voice cracked with emotion. "Why would Dumbledore keep me in the dark like that? I thought he was supposed to protect me."
Ron's expression softened, his eyes filled with empathy as he stepped closer to Harry. "Mate, we had no idea..." he began, reaching out a hand in a gesture of trying to comfort Harry.
But Harry recoiled, his instincts screaming at him to protect himself. "Don't touch me!" he snapped, his chest heaving with emotion. "Just... just leave me alone." He turned away, the weight of his pain too heavy to bear in that moment.
Feeling suffocated and mentally exhausted, Harry left the room.
****
As Harry left the room, tension lingered in the air like fog. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances, the weight of Harry’s anguish noticeable between them.
“Ron,” Hermione began, her voice full of concern.“Do.. do you think we pushed him too hard? Maybe we should’ve given him more space.”
Ron sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.“ I don’t know Hermione,” he admitted, his brow furrowed with worry. “But something’s not right. Did you notice how he reacted when I reached out to him?”
Hermione nodded, looking troubled.”Yes, I did. It’s like he’s… afraid of us.”
Ron’s alpha instincts stirred, a nagging sense of unease settling in the pit of his stomach.“Mione, did you catch that scent?”he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. He then added“ It was faint, but … it was like a newly presented scent. It smelled floral with a mix of vanilla and fresh rain.”
Hermione frowned, looking down as in thought.” I didn’t notice anything,” she admitted, her voice filled with concern. “But then again, I’m not as sensitive to scents as you are, Ron.”
She then continued on “Now that you mention it, do you think he might’ve presented over the summer?” she asked.
Ron’s jaw clenched as he considered the implications. “We need to talk to Harry,”he declared, “who knows what his relatives have done to him. It was already bad in 2nd year when they had bars bolted on his windows and treated him like a prisoner.”
With determination in his eyes, he added “Whatever’s going on, he shouldn’t have to face it alone.”
Hermione nodded in agreement, worry for her friend evident in her eyes. “We’ll figure it out together, Ron” she assured him. “Harry needs us now more than ever.”
As they continued their discussion, Hermione hesitantly asked “Do you think we should tell a teacher? Maybe Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore?” Her voice laced with uncertainty.
Ron’s jaw tensed at the suggest, the thought of betraying Harry’s trust had his instincts bristling. “No,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We don’t know the full story about what happened this summer. We promised Harry we wouldn’t tell anyone about his relatives being neglectful. We need to respect that.”
Hermione sighed, knowing Ron was right but still feeling torn. “ I know, but… what if Harry’s in danger? she argued, her worry for their friend outweighing her respect towards his wishes.
Ron's gaze softened as he reached out to gently grasp Hermione's hand. "We'll keep an eye on him," he promised, his voice gentle but firm. "And if we think he's in real trouble, then we'll talk to him about it first. But for now, we have to trust that Harry knows what's best for himself."
Reluctantly, Hermione nodded, a sense of unease eating at her insides. "Okay," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But if things get worse... we'll intervene, right?"
Ron nodded, his grip on Hermione's hand tightening in reassurance. "We will," he vowed, his voice firm with determination. "No matter what, we'll always be there for Harry."
****
After storming out of the room, Harry felt emotionally drained, his thoughts swirling with a mix of hurt, anger and confusion. Needing to find a place to calm down, he started wandering around the house.
As he explored, Harry found himself drawn to a room tucked away at the end of a hallway. The door creaked open with a soft push, showing a space that felt oddly familiar yet foreign to him. The air was heavy with the scent of dust and neglect, mingled with a very faint almost imperceptible omega scent that pulled comfortably at his senses.
Feeling his curiosity piqued, Harry stepped inside, his eyes searching for any sign of life. To his surprise, everything was clean and orderly, as though frozen in time. It seemed as if the room hadn’t been touched in years.
Strangely, Harry felt drawn to this space, to him it screamed safe and warm, the faintly there omega scent bringing him extra comfort. He sank to his knees and started crawling under the bed, the worn floorboards creaking as he moved. With a sense of instinctual urgency, he began to gather blankets and pillows, arranging them until he felt satisfied, making a makeshift nest.
Unbeknownst to him, his presence hadn’t gone unnoticed. From the shadows, beady eyes watched him with cautious curiosity. Kreacher, the house elf, had sensed an intruder in his beloved master’s room and had come right away to investigate, ready to scold and chase them away.
But as he peered under the bed, Kreacher's anger melted away, replaced by surprise and curiosity at the sight of Harry nestled in the makeshift nest. With a grunt of approval, he shuffled forward, his wrinkled face softening into a rare display of kindness.
"Master's room is not for strangers," Kreature grumbled, though there was a hint of warmth in his tone. "But... you seem lost, young one. Kreacher will allow you to stay, just this once." With a wave of his gnarled hand, he retreated into the shadows, leaving Harry to find comfort and peace in the forgotten sanctuary of Regulus Black's room.