Chapter Text
Harry wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing.
Well, okay, that’s not true, he was aware that he was hopping in place like some kind of neurotic bunny and breathing weirdly. It reminded him of the Rocky movie.
He kept doing it though, trying to psyche himself up and wake himself up. He was early as all fuck and he was trying to remember why he and his dads had agreed this was a good idea. So he was during his Rocky thing, throwing in some pretend punches as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror.
Christ, I look fucking ridiculous . That thought stopped the neurotic bunny-ing. His hair was sticking up in odd directions from sleeping and he still had pillow lines on his face. The bags under his eyes made him look like a zombie– which funnily enough was what the book she stayed up till one am reading was about. His dad really shouldn’t give him new material on a school night.
At any rate, Harry scrubbed a hand over his face and set about getting ready– washing his teeth and brushing his face.
With that done, he slipped back into his room and got dressed. He had his jeans half way on when he realized that it was his first day of school and he should probably wear something… good, right?
With that thought in mind, he pulled his jeans up, buttoned them, and pulled out a white collared shirt from his closet. When he got socks on he almost slipped on the hardwood floor and ate shit, trying to find the docs Sirius had given him for his birthday. Hopping and trying to get the boots on proved to be an Olympic sport, and Harry did actually eat shit.
Looking around his room, he decided to let the floor claim him and used the opportunity to get his other boot on and tie the laces.
Springing back up, he hazarded a look in his mirror and found his shirt wrinkled and hair somehow wilder, glasses somehow askew. It made him chuckle a little bit. He reached for a chunky black sweater and pulled it on, covering most of the wrinkles, and tying the outfit together much better. Harry felt good about it.
He went downstairs, not bothering to be quiet, and landed on the main floor excitedly, following the smell of coffee into the kitchen. His dads were puttering around but both looked up when he arrived.
Remus looked up from the toast he was spreading peanut butter on and smiled crookedly, “Excited, pup?”
Harry smiled back, “Just a little.” He shrugged nonchalantly and Sirius snickered before coming forward to stand in front of Harry.
“Your hair,” he frowned and pulled out a brush from the void and began dragging it through the birds nest. Once he hummed in approval he hooked a hair tie onto Harry’s list and went back to watching the kettle boil.
“Was it really that bad?” Harry asked Remus. The man shrugged.
“It’s part of your charm.”
“Merlin,” Harry said under his breath and put himself into the middle of things. Pouring himself tea when the water was ready and eating a spoonful of peanut butter before pouring himself some cereal as well. He ate quickly out of habit after years of running late and was ready to go before Sirius seemed to really be functioning.
As he took care of his dishes, Remus asked, “Do you want us to take you?”
“Can I take my bike? The weather is supposed to be good today.” Harry asked instead. He watched Sirius and Remus share a look.
“Sure, take your helmet and your jacket,” Sirius said easily since he was the one who had taught Harry how to ride in the first place.
“Thanks,” Harry threw over his shoulder as he dashed off. He flew about the house gathering his things. The school supplies that hadn’t made it into his backpack, his lunch and water bottle from the kitchen, his jacket and helmet were thrown precariously into the hall closet.
Once all his things are assembled next to the front door, Harry ducks back into the kitchen to find his dads. They both perk up when they sense Harry and it breaks his heart just a little bit.
“I love you guys,” he says and quickly hauls them both into a hug.
“Love you too, pup,” Remus says fondly and ruffles Harry’s hair.
“Oi, I just fixed that,” Sirius cried dramatically but let the act drop when he and Harry made eye contact.
“I’m proud of you, Haz,” he says softly. He tucks Harry’s hair back behind his ears, “Tell us all about it when you get home, yeah.”
“Course,” Harry agrees and smiles before catching sight of the clock on the microwave. “Oh shit, I’m gonna be late!”
He dashes off again, thankful for the tread on his boots keeping him from dying on the floors again. “Don’t go ten over!” Sirius calls after him and Harry grins like a maniac. He gathers his things and rushes out of his house and to the barn where the motorbikes and Jeep are. He zips his jacket up and ties his hair into a bun before fastening his backpack and helmet on.
The sound of the engine revving made Harry feel like every cell in his body wanted him to cause some trouble, but instead, just just peeled out of the barn.
Following their little driveway through the forest that surrounded their house was as easy as tracing the lines on his palm. Once he was on asphalt, he gunned it, enjoying the feeling of air rushing around him.
— — — — —
Harry hadn’t considered that the roar of the bike’s engine would attract stares, but the instinct to curl in on himself surprisingly passed quickly. He steered his bike into one of the spots near the back so he could leave easily.
As he walked across the parking lot, he took his helmet off and looked around a bit now that he had his peripheral vision back. The stares hadn’t lessened, but Harry just straightened his spine and walked in.
He wasn’t bombarded per se, but he could see when someone stepped forward to try and catch him on his way to the office, but that’s the beauty of dressing in all black and avoiding eye contact.
He found the office easily, thank Merlin, and got his schedule from the secretary there without much fuss. He and the Dads had “toured” the school just a few days ago while the student body and faculty were on winter holiday.
Schedule in hand, he found his first class– Spanish 3– fairly easily. It was a small school after all. He introduced himself to the teacher, who was horrifically young and tried not to wince when she blushed furiously and stuttered.
She directed him to an empty seat next to a blonde boy whose head was buried in his notebook.
Harry dumped his backpack and helmet next to his seat before shucking his jacket off. Before he could sit down though, the boy looked up and made eye contact with Harry. The world seemed like it froze for that moment and Harry felt like he was standing on a stage alone under a burning spotlight.
Then it was over.
The boy turned back to his notebook and began to furiously take notes even though their teacher hadn’t started lecturing yet. Harry was left standing dumbstruck before his brain rebooted and he sat down too.
As class moved on, Harry struggled to pay attention. He didn’t quite need help with Spanish, but he was taking the class because he needed to refresh his memory a little bit. He took notes absentmindedly, trying to work through the steps of conjugating in a way that actually made sense. It always seemed to get scrambled in his mind after the fact.
Toward the end of class, Harry glanced over at the boy’s notebook and couldn’t help but doubletake. He was translating the sentences the teacher had given them to translate into Spanish and then into Arabic on one side of the page and translating them from English directly into Arabic on the other.
What in the actual fuck nuggets?
— — — — —
After the mindfuck that was his next class, Harry decided to find his locker and drop his helmet and jacket off as a little break. He took his schedule back out, found the student information, and began walking, tracking the numbers on the metal lockers with his eyes. The peace didn’t last.
“Hey, you’re the new guy right?” A voice interrupted Harry’s thoughts with far too much energy for this early in the morning. Harry looked up to find the living embodiment of Chad looking at him expectantly.
“Uh, yeah,” Harry said neutrally, unsure about how to do this. It seemed he didn’t have to figure it out because the boy brightened.
“Oh, cool. I’m Mike, by the way,” he held his hand out and Harry shook it, taking a little pride in the wince the boy tried to cover at Harry’s grip.
“Nice to meet you,” he offered and saw the exact moment “Mike” clocked his accent.
“Wow, where are you from?” He asked eagerly.
“Forks,” Harry answered flatly and took great pleasure in stressing his accent even more before walking away. The passing periods weren’t terribly long.
“Hang on! Where you headed? I can show you.” Harry rolled his eyes and was about to brush the guy off again when he remembered what Sirius had said about making friends. Groaning internally, he faced “Mike.”
“I’m trying to find my locker,” He said and waved his helmet for emphasis.
“Oh, what’s the number?”
“125,” Harry didn’t have to look at the paper, he’d been staring at the paper for long enough.
“That’s that way,” he said pointing behind them, “Farther into the language hallway.”
“Thanks,” Harry said and took off. He pretended he didn’t hear when “Mike” called out asking for his name. That wasn’t his problem.
He found his locker and struggled with the combination for a couple of minutes before he got it and the metal door swung open. He shoved the helmet in without remorse and dumped his jacket on top of it before slamming it closed and starting off for his next class.
As he was pressing through the throng of bodies, a thought struck him, no one knew who he was. No one had to know who he was. He could just exist here and no one was none the wiser for it.
It was strangely comforting.
He had AP French Lit next and was actually really excited. Apparently, it was the first time the class had enough interested students and the teacher actually had a PhD in the area. Sirius had made a big fuss about it, mostly just to watch the principal have a heart attack thinking they were some flavor of royalty.
When he walked into the classroom– on time, mind you, he was met with a scathing glare. French women could make a person fall apart completely like no other, but he found it a little unnecessary in a public secondary school.
“Qui es-tu?” The teacher snapped from where she was standing behind her desk. Harry didn’t have to look to know that they had the attention of the entire class.
“Harrison Black, madame,” Harry responded easily, falling into the language as easily as breathing.
“Vous n'êtes pas dans la bonne classe, Monsieur Black.”
“En fait, je suis un nouvel étudiant. Je me suis inscrit à ce cours avant le début du semestre,” Harry kept his voice calm. He knew that there was nothing she could actually do to him, but he’d prefer not to have a sour relationship with her so early on. He watched her lean over her desk and pick up a clipboard, scanning her class roster. Harry took the opportunity to glance at the class, it was a small one with most of the students sitting near the front. Two girls caught his eye, but his attention was pulled away again.
“Je vois votre nom ici, mais c'est un cours avancé.”
“Oui,” Harry agreed, frowning slightly. He wasn’t sure where she was going with this.
“Si vous échouez, votre moyenne générale diminue considérablement.”
Harry made an ah expression and spoke easily, “J'apprécie votre inquiétude, mais je ne suis pas inquiet. Mon père est français et je parle cette langue depuis que je suis enfant.” Even though he had tried to be respectful, he could visibly see her feathers ruffling.
“Je ne savais pas qu'il y avait une autre famille française ici. Quel est votre nom de famille?” She asked and seemed to be trying to regain her high ground.
“Black,” Harry reminded her, not willing to point out that it was on the list in her hand. Nevertheless, he watched her pale.
“Prendre place,” she snapped and it was a clear dismissal. Harry turned back to the class and saw that the two girls that had been sitting side by side in the desk rows had shifted. The blonde one, who didn’t look too dissimilar from the boy from Spanish, was now sitting behind the smaller one who had wild, spiky hair.
“You can sit with us if you like,” the smaller one offered, smiling. Harry saw the mischief glinting in her eyes and couldn’t help but grin in response.
“En français!” Their teacher interrupted, scolding them.
The girl’s smile only brightened and she spoke quickly, “Monsieur Black, nous serions très honorés si vous nous rendiez le grand service de rester à nos côtés.”
She was on her way to being Harry’s favorite.
“Tout l’honneur serait pour moi, mademoiselle,” he said and pressed a hand to his chest, giving her a mock bow before collapsing into the desk.
The teacher got the class started and introduced a reading assignment, which Harry wasn’t upset to find was poetry. When she gave them an assignment to do in the last twenty minutes of class before lunch in a group of three, they all quickly turned to each other, making Harry smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Harrison, I’m Alice,” she held a hand out. When Harry shook it, he was delighted to find her grip firm and hand a little rough.
“‘Harry’ is fine, it’s nice to meet you too,” he found this time, he actually meant it.
“Harry then, this is my sister, Rosalie,” Alice gestured to the blonde girl.
“Hi,” Harry said easily and held out his hand to Rosalie who took it gently. Harry got the odd sense she wasn’t expecting a handshake so instead he pressed a barely there kiss into her knuckles. Harry vaguely remembered Sirius telling him that was how fancy ladies liked to be greeted.
“What brings you to Forks, Harry?” Rosalie asked, kindly, receiving a weird look from her sister.
“I’ve grown up here actually, I was just homeschooled,” Harry chose to think that she was asking because of his accent and not the color of his skin.
“Really? I’m surprised we haven’t seen you around,” Alice butt in awkwardly.
Harry just shrugged and decided to take the focus off of him, “How long have you two lived here?”
That seemed to be a step over some invisible line, the girls shared looks before they seemed to decide on something.
“On and off for a few years,” Alice says.
“Just means we know all the fun spots,” Rosalie smiled, back to whatever mood she had been in before Harry’s question. “I could show you sometime,” she offered as the bell rang for lunch.
“We’ll see,” Harry said mischievously before leaving the classroom without looking back.
He got to the tiny cafeteria before the majority of the student body and set up camp at an out-of-the-way table. He pulled out his lunch, water bottle, and book. He settled in to ignore the world, but it was then that he realized he had left his phone at home. He didn’t really need one, he fried them all the time anyway, but he liked using it for music at least.
Harry didn’t pay much attention to anything apart from the words on the page as the cafeteria filled in and progressively got noisier and noisier. He was debating actually eating his lunch when the room suddenly went quiet. He realized why when he looked up and saw Rosalie approaching his table with a guy.
“Hi, Harry,” she said, smiling with feigned ease. It put Harry a bit on edge.
“Hi, Rosalie, what’s up?”
“I just wanted to introduce you to my boyfriend, Emmett.” She gestured to the guy at her side who Harry thought was built like a rugby player’s scary brother.
“Oh, nice to meet you,” Harry said confidently and stood, holding his hand out for him to shake. He definitely did not feel something pop when Emmett did.
“Do you mind if we sit? Rose was telling me that you have French with her and Alice,” he said kindly. Harry decided that he liked him.
“Go ahead, and yeah. Alice and Rosalie were nice enough to tolerate me,” he joked. They all sat and Harry took his backpack off the table so they could all chat together easily.
“Rose has been tolerating me every day for years now, I know the feeling.” Harry laughed, liking Emmett even more. He barely caught the pleased look on Rosalie’s face, but didn’t have time to decipher it before the conversation moved on.
“I was wondering, are you planning to study French in college?” Rosalie asked, “Most of the kids in that class are just interested in bolstering their applications.”
“I enjoy languages, yes, my Dad is French and has always tried to share as much of that culture with me as I was willing to take,” Harry laughed lightly. “But I grew up multilingual and getting to see the connections between people that others want you to believe are wildly different is fantastic.” He realized he got carried away with himself, but when he looked back at Emmett and Rosalie, they were both just listening.
“Me personally, my skull is too thick for anything other than English to stick,” Emmet paused and looked fondly at Rosalie. “Rose has tried to teach me French a few times, but only bits and pieces have stuck.”
“It’s a hard thing to pick up compared to being raised with it,” Harry acknowledged.
“I know you said that you’ve grown in Forks, I was curious if you could show us anywhere off the beaten path,” Rosalie said, changing the subject. “We could grab something to eat first,” she tacked on.
“Ah, maybe.” Harry smiled awkwardly, “I'd have to check with my parents.”
“Here,” she made grabby hands toward him and Harry looked around first before just stretching over the table closer. Rosalie pulled out a sharpie and wrote a string of numbers neatly on the back of Harry’s hand. “Let me know,” she smiled again and stood, Emmett following her.
“Nice meeting you, man,” Emmett said as they walked away.
Harry sat back down, more than a little dazed about what had just happened.
— — — — —
The rest of Harry’s classes were blessedly boring and only filled with muggles he could scare off, which was fairly easy.
He accredited Sirius with that skill. He was far more extroverted than Harry, but he also knew how to play people, and Harry was a fast learner.
When the last bell finally rang and Harry was free, the fresh air on his face in the parking lot was a relief. He had put his jacket on before stepping outside and walked over to his bike, hopping on with practiced ease. He sat his helmet down on the gas tank and zipped his jacket up before looking around. He saw a few people who were glancing at him curiously but attributed that to the guy on a motorbike effect, what was really strange was the five sets of golden eyes that were boring into him.
It was Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, the guy from Spanish, and one other boy standing around a silver volvo– objectively the ugliest of cars.
Harry’s heartbeat tripped, but he didn’t let his movements stutter. He made sure his bun was secure before putting his helmet on and fastening it. Seeing them all together… bothered Harry. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he used the advantage his blacked-out visor provided and looked them all up and down. They all seemed to have the same eyes and skin, their hair colors were slightly different, and their facial structure even more so. It could be written off as being siblings, but something wasn’t right.
With the chin strap on his helmet tightened he started up his bike, revving it just this side of obnoxious before pulling out and riding away. He didn’t feel their collective gaze leave him until he was on the main road, blocked by the trees, and out of sight.
The ride home seemed too fast, not that Harry could take the long way to give himself more time to think. Every way in Forks was the long way. Pulling up to his house helped though, and seeing the smoke rising out of the chimney, meaning that the temperature had dropped marginally and Sirius had decreed it to be freezing.
Harry took his bike back into the barn and hauled the doors closed before heading toward the house. He dumped his stuff and his sweater on the porch, before heading around the back. He found Remus leaning over one of their vegetable patches and poking at something intermittently with a tiny shovel.
“Dad, can I run something by you?” Harry asked without preamble. Remus had gotten used to Harry just popping out of the void and didn’t flinch, just looked over his shoulder and eyed his son curiously.
“What’s up, pup?” He asked as he rocked back on his heels and twisted to face Harry.
“What types of creatures live in groups, like packs or clans?” Remus blinked for a minute, Harry realizing that this probably wasn’t what his dad was expecting after his first day of school.
“Werewolves obviously, but so do vampires and centaurs. Pixies I suppose as well,” He hummed, looking away from Harry and into the middle distance. “There are probably others, but I’d have to poke through the library. Why do you ask?”
“I think there might be a group of creatures attending the high school.” Harry chewed on his bottom lip, turning over what he’d observed during his day, trying to find a new angle and a new perspective.
Remus frowned, “It wasn’t any guys from the tribe?”
“No, I wouldn’t be asking you if it was,” Harry said bluntly, but it was the truth.
“Strange.” Remus’s frown deepened. “If they’re not causing any trouble we have time to do some research later,” he pointed out and Harry nodded. “For now, let’s help Sirius with dinner, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed and held a hand out to help Remus up. They both heard his joints click and crack, but both of them ignored it. Remus wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders.
“How was your day other than that, fy nghariad bach?” He asked.
“Roedd yn iawn. Ond efallai bod fy athro Ffrangeg yn fy nghasáu.” Remus laughed at that, ruffling Harry’s hair, making the flyaways stick straight up with static.
“Beth wnaethoch chi?” There was no judgement in Remus’s voice when he asked and Harry loved him for it.
“Dim byd,” Harry insisted, “Rwy'n addo.” Harry thought about that class for a moment, “Dim byd ar bwrpas,” he added. Remus laughed again. “Rwy'n meddwl nad oedd hi'n hoffi bod plentyn brown yn siarad Ffrangeg fel brodor.”
Remus reached his hand up to Harry’s head again, but instead of ruffling his hair, he pressed Harry’s head closer to his face and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Rwy'n dy garu di.”
“Rwyf wrth fy modd i chi hefyd, Tad,” Harry says easily and sighs. He doesn’t want to sit in moments like these, they’re hard to swallow. Thankfully it was over quickly with the immediate crash of pans coming from the kitchen when they stepped foot inside.
“Sirius?” Remus shouted, concern evident in his voice.
“It’s fine!” Was called back to them and Harry snorted. He followed behind Remus as the man strode into the kitchen. Harry was only a little shorter than Remus in his platform boots so he peeked around his dad’s shoulder to find Sirius spraying water from the sink faucet on a steaming pot he must’ve dropped in there.
“Tout va bien, papa?” Harry asked, smirking.
“I wanted to make that jam you like for croissants for your first day, but I got distracted and it started burning.”
“It’s alright,” Harry said at the same time that Remus asked if Sirius burned himself.
“I’m fine, but that isn’t,” he pointed at the steaming pot distastefully.
“Was that all we were having for dinner?” Harry asked, staring at the steam that was still rising out of the sink.
“It was all I had gotten started on,” Sirius said quietly. They were all silent for a minute before Harry broke in.
“Pizza?” He suggested.
“Yes,” Remus and Sirius agreed in unison.
— — — — —
After the pizza had come, they sat on the floor of the living room around the coffee table, eating, and finally started speaking.
“What’s on your hand?” Sirius asked, making Harry pause confused. He looked down at both hands, the one holding a slice still marked with Rosalie’s phone number.
“Oh!” Harry realized and swallowed the bite he had taken, “I think I was propositioned for a three way today.”
“What?” Sirius practically screeched while Remus started choking. Harry frowned and slammed his palm into Remus’s back, trying to dislodge whatever was caught. Once Remus was fine and waved Harry off, Harry looked back to Sirius.
“What do you mean ‘what’?”
“You can’t just say that and not elaborate.” He seemed to speak enthusiastically and scandalized at the same time.
Harry shrugged, “I met this girl and her sister in my French class and they seemed nice, and then she introduced her boyfriend to me at lunch and was all strangely very flirty.”
Remus started cackling, Sirius having clamped a hand over his own mouth, making Harry’s face heat.
“Oh my god,” Remus managed to wheeze out, clutching his stomach. “Not even a full day and you’re being propositioned!”
“Don’t say that like it happens often !” Harry defended, turning on Remus.
“Oh, of course not, this is the only time anyone has ever found you attractive,” Remus waved his hand dismissively and Harry scowled.
“Moony makes an excellent point, there were never any muggles checking you out at the shop,” Sirius manages to say serenely.
“You guys suck!” Harry declares and shoves more pizza in his mouth.
“Wait,” Remus said a moment later, his brain catching up. “Were these the people you suspect are creatures?”
Sirius froze, watching the interaction with interest.
“Yeah,” Harry said, voice quiet but not insecure.
“Oh, that’s even better!” Sirius yelled and crashed to the floor, overtaken by his own giggles.
Harry faked annoyance for the rest of the meal but gave it up after a while. He knew they didn’t mean it, and honestly, the whole situation was kind of funny. He didn’t think any more of it for the rest of the night, he definitely didn’t expect it to get worse.