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The biker was hot and honestly looked like sex on legs when Harry met his eyes from across the bar. Dirty blond hair and vivid blue eyes, a flannel shirt and baggy jeans made for a sight as Harry continued to look at the guy, idly drinking an American made beer that didn’t do anything for him. He was on the way back to London, taking his idle time, from a case that had dragged on and on. Bone deep tired and feeling it and when the guy smirked at him, Harry smiled back. With more than a hint of heat, throwing in a slow once over look of the guy.
He watched as the biker, who didn’t look any older than him, stalked over to him and passed him. Harry took in the other occupants of the bar, a random one in Stockton that hadn’t caught his eye any more than any other had, and then turned to follow, seeing the mid afternoon sun shine through the windows of the bar.
The biker strode out of the bar, shoving the door open, and walked around to the side, leaning against the side of the building, foot crooked to prop him up. Easy and casual, full of confidence. Heat coiled in the pit of his stomach at the sight and he ran a hand through his hair, sweat and dirt covering his fingers at the motion. He hadn’t exactly taken a shower after tangling with pixies and one pissed off troll but after a quick check, there was no blood anywhere, red or otherwise.
“You looking for a quick fuck?” The guy asked roughly, his voice low, like he hadn’t spoken in a while.
“If you’re in the mood,” Harry returned, taking a step towards the guy, seeing the bike parked in the lot out of the corner of his eyes. “You have a room nearby?”
“Yeah. Name’s Jax.”
“Harry. You just get out of prison or something?” Harry idly asked, watching as Jax stepped away from the side of the bar and fell into step with him as he started to walk. They stuck to the sidewalk, following the road, the block until they arrived at a shady looking motel.
Jax stopped at the office and turned to look at him, his blue eyes weary but still confident. Hungry, he supposed. There was a flicker of something else in Jax’s eyes as well, something that was very familiar to him. Something that rather looked like exhaustion. It made something curl and tangle at the base of his spine, heat that was unfamiliar to him. Not the slow burn of arousal, which was coiling through his body, but a kind of worry. Harry shrugged it off, guessing it was due to getting out of prison. He knew that look, had seen it on Sirius’ face more than once back when he had been 15. “I ain’t about to murder you while we’re fucking.”
“Wasn’t worried about that,” Harry offered, glancing around them. “I know the look. Besides, I have no energy to worry about that right now.”
“You saying you have no energy to fuck?” Jax led them past the office and right over to a room with the number 12 on it. He pulled some keys out of a pocket and opened the door, letting Harry inside before closing it.
Harry snorted and pushed Jax up against the door, meeting his eyes for a moment before leaning in and pressing his mouth to his. Jax groaned into it and met him, heat stirring through his body, setting his nerves alight. Harry let the other man move closer, feeling the guy’s cock harden even through the jeans.
“Didn’t say that,” Harry retorted, breathing heavily, nipping and licking into Jax’s mouth, shivering when the man arched into him. He curled his fingers into Jax’s hips, flexing his fingers and seeing goosebumps roll up Jax’s bare arms. His eyes caught on the hints of tattoos and ignoring them in favor of pulling back to strip his shirt off.
His magic coiled and made him warm up easily as he threw his shirt somewhere behind him, meeting Jax’s eyes afterward. Something dark flickered in Jax’s eyes as he took in the scars on Harry’s chest and he could see the biker was trying to figure out what the scar in the center of his chest was from. Jax’s gaze moved on to the scar on his left hand, the faint smudge from the blood quill, and then Harry made a sound, walking back to the bed he could see behind him.
Every motel room was the same at least and Harry’s feet hit the foot of the shitty bed a second later. He bent down to shuck off his boots and his jeans before sitting on the bed, smirking up at Jax a moment later. “You coming?”
Jax groaned, that bright smile doing things to Harry that he wouldn’t easily admit, and padded over to the bed, stripping off his kutte and his shirt as he moved. When he stopped, he kicked off his shoes and shoved down his jeans, baring his hard cock, and Harry licked his lips at the sight. “I hope so.”
Harry snorted in amusement, sucking in a breath as he saw the look that Jax gave him. All that tan skin was before him and a noise left his throat at the sight, taking in the play of muscles, of skin, and reached his foot out to curl around Jax’s ankle. Pulling him down with a thump, hearing Jax make a startled noise before the other man landed right on top of him. Harry’s breath was pushed out of him at Jax’s weight on top of him but the guy was warm, causing shivers to run through him.
“I… Really? Do it this way?” Jax questioned, holding himself up on his elbows, with a pointed look between them.
“I want to see you,” Harry offered breathlessly, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug. “ Fuck. You’re gorgeous.”
Jax stared at him for a moment, blinked once, and Harry could swear the tips of Jax’s ears had gone faintly red.
Harry wrapped his arms around Jax’s neck and yanked him down into a hot kiss, wanting to get his mouth on that skin. Jax moaned even as Harry moved his hand down his back, smoothing over warm skin, seeing goosebumps roll up Jax’s arms. Sweat dripped down his back, making the thin, ratty sheet stick to him.
The moment that Jax pulled back and thrust his hips into him made all of Harry’s nerves light up, heat coiling through him. The friction was delightful and wonderful and made electricity shoot through him, making him dig his fingers into Jax’s back deeper, drawing a strangled groan from the biker.
He was hard and aching from it, the adrenaline of the case and tangling with a pissed off troll making his blood run hot, his magic tingling through him almost like a physical sensation. Harry hummed and trailed his hand up Jax’s back, trailing a line of heat to curl around the nape of his neck and squeezing a little bit.
Jax stiffened a little bit, froze above him for a second, two seconds, before his pupils blew, his breath catching. A shudder rolled through the man’s body and then he grunted, rolling his hips down.
“Yeah, just like that,” Harry muttered breathlessly, meeting Jax’s thrust with a wet one of his own. Pre-come was already spilling from his cock, making the slide all that more filthy. Jax was hard, hard enough for it to hurt from the looks of him, and Harry wanted more.
“Never done this before.” Jax broke off to reach over to the bedside table, rummaging around in his jeans.
Harry grinned up at the man and reached his other hand up to stroke over Jax’s cock, spelling himself open with a little pulse of magic. Jax hissed at the motion, shuddering underneath his fingers and turned back to him. “You’re doing beautifully but I really… don’t think you need the compliment.”
Jax smirked down at him, thrusting into his fingers for a moment before Harry bucked up.
“Come on,” Harry said, nearly vibrating off the bed with pure need and leftover adrenaline. His heart was beating double time and his eyes were caught on Jax’s cock, wanting that in him yesterday. Both of their dicks were leaking pre-come, hard and red, making Harry swallow at the sight. “Fuck me then.”
“But--”
“Here,” Harry offered, propping himself up, reaching a few fingers to slide into himself, thrusting into wet muscle. His eyes fluttered at the sensations that flooded him, wanting more of that. He heard more than saw Jax’s breath stutter at the sight and smirked up at him.
Jax reached out with shaky hands and pulled Harry’s fingers out then thrust into him with one stroke, his pupils blowing with pleasure. Harry sighed happily, rolled his hips once just to hear Jax’s breath catch, heard him groan, and just barely held himself still, getting used to feeling full, having someone inside him. It’d… It’d been a while since he’d been fucked but it still felt as good as he remembered. Besides… Jax was doing all the work.
“Feel good?” Harry asked, tilting his head and reaching a hand up to cup Jax’s cheek, watching as the man’s eyes fluttered.
“Yeah.” Jax paused and then slid in further, deeper and brushed against that spot that set Harry’s nerves on fire. Pleasure bloomed and his own breath caught, stuttering, as he moaned, loud and clear. His eyes closed and reopened as he felt Jax move inside him. Something mischievous curled underneath his ribcage and Harry bucked up to meet Jax on his next thrust, even as heat and pressure and electric pleasure shot through him.
“Come on,” Harry urged breathlessly, digging his fingers into Jax’s back. He could feel sweat dripping down the man’s bare skin, mirroring where sweat was causing the sheets to stick to his own back. “ Fuck me.”
Jax grunted and like a switch had been pulled, slowly pulled out and then thrust in hard and fast. The shitty motel bed creaked and the springs groaned in what almost sounded like dismay or like they were complaining as the sounds of sex filled the air, skin hitting skin. The room stunk of sweat and sex and other things that Harry didn’t care to think about, didn’t even give a shit about now, now that he was getting what he wanted.
Jax was a fast learner in bed, hitting that little bundle of nerves every single time, every single thrust, letting out a groan as Harry reached up to smooth over his chest. Goosebumps followed his fingers as he explored chest muscles, followed up his fingers with his tongue. Rubbing over a nipple and tweaking the other one made Jax whine in the back of his throat, set him thrusting in even harder. Made his cheeks redden a little and made Harry smile, moaning particularly loudly when Jax reached down to tug at his cock.
That pool of pleasure and heat nearly boiled over at the touch to his dick, making him moan, and let out a strangled breath. It just took another thrust, another not particularly gentle thrust to send him over the edge, sending his vision greying out, his toes curling, his mouth curling up.
Shudders rolled through his body, pleasure flooding his system, and his muscles clenched, even as he yanked Jax down for a hard kiss. The man moaned loud and vivid, letting out a whine as Harry nipped and licked into his mouth. His blond hair was shiny with sweat, drops of it trailing down his forehead. His eyes were tightly closed, as if he was…imagining…
As soon as Harry caught his breath, pleasure still bounding through him, he curled his fingers into a few of those golden strands and tugged. Jax startled, opening his eyes, his mouth opening to say something, his pupils blown entirely, black edging out vibrant blue with pleasure. Harry met those eyes and then bucked up into him, rolling his hips, making Jax fall over that edge.
Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jax coming, seeing those eyes rolling back into his head. He felt Jax spill into him, swallowing at the sensation and letting out a startled noise when the man more or less collapsed onto him. Harry smiled faintly, letting out a quiet huff of amusement, and trailed his fingers over Jax’s back, smoothing circles into that warm skin.
Jax shivered on top of him, his breath stuttering as his fingers clenched in the sheets on either side of them.
“Maybe…” Harry started, whispering into Jax’s ear, seeing goosebumps roll up his arm. “I can fuck you later tonight, hmm?”
Jax grumbled out words under his breath, reaching up a hand to flip him off.
Harry snorted and let his eyes fall closed, knowing he would need to leave in the morning. Report back to London and the Ministry. But for now… he listened to Jax’s quiet breathing, felt the man slowly fall asleep, rolling onto his side and slipping out. He quickly waved a hand over the both of them, using a pulse of magic to clean them both off. Within minutes, he followed the guy into sleep and dreamland.
“So… I think we have a problem,” Harry spoke, walking into the Ministry of Magic and heading right to Kingsley’s office the next day.
Kingsley looked up from where he was going over paperwork, memos zooming in and out of his office very quickly. Faster than owls but cleaner. Harry ducked one and sat down opposite the minister, his body still aching from the fight with the troll and from the very hot night of sex he’d had with that biker. London was a far cry from California and the wizarding world was even more distant than the world of a biker.
“You found something?” Kingsley questioned, sighing as he sat back in his chair to look at Harry.
“Yes, I did and you’re not going to like it.”
“Well, let me send for the other heads of departments,” Kingsley remarked wearily.
Harry nodded and let out a noise of consideration, the elder wand humming quietly in his pants pocket.
A month into tracking down yet another lead on their current problem, another dark wizard that may or may not have been using drugs as well, Harry woke up sick. He hurriedly slid off of his bed in the tent and hurried over to the bathroom stall, thanking whatever god was listening or perhaps Death, that Hermione knew her magic. She’d loaned him the tent for this purpose and the bathroom consisted of a small toilet and sink.
He retched up bile and half of his dinner from last night, finishing after what he thought was forever. He sat there breathing heavily, pressing his hand over the toilet edge to vanish the results of nausea. Harry stared at the toilet’s edge for a minute before turning to look around the tent, wondering if there was an external cause.
Another week later and the morning sickness had yet to stop so he apparated back to London. Traveled to St Mungos and saw the first available mediwitch, asked for privacy too.
He sat still, letting his shields down, relaxing enough for the witch to cast some diagnostic charms. Harry would have preferred Hermione but St Mungos knew the case they were working on, knew the symptoms that had caught up to people.
The diagnostic charm hovered over his stomach first, traveled the length of his body, before centering on his stomach. Or on the lower half of it.
The witch let out a noise of surprise and then blinked, looking between him and the magic that hovered above him. Harry lifted an eyebrow, able to tell from the feel of the magic that he wasn’t poisoned but… “Well?”
“I’ve never seen this before. But… I have heard…” The woman paused, taking in the sight of him. “I need to go consult one certain textbook.”
“A textbook?” Harry echoed, tilting his head in confusion.
“I’ve only read about this.”
“Alright. What do you… suspect it is?” Harry looked between his stomach and the magic. The elder wand was being suspiciously quiet and the one shadow he had seen since coming in was edging towards him.
The woman, an older witch, hesitated before speaking. “My charm is telling me you’re with child.”
Harry blinked and stared at her.
“The last case of an English wizard getting pregnant was a couple hundred years ago. He was said to be plenty powerful. There have been occasions in history where wizards can get…” The witch paused and then shook her head. “It is you though.”
Harry scowled, his heart skipping a beat at the thought, and turned to look down at his stomach. “You’re saying there’s a child in there.”
“Check for yourself. Your magic should know your body.”
Harry nodded faintly, disbelief racing through him as he closed his eyes, reached inward with his power. He focused on his stomach, swallowing on a dry throat as the result came back. “There’s…”
“Well, shit.”
The woman cleared her throat and glanced at him as he reopened his eyes.
Harry stared at the wall across from him, leaning back against the table he was sitting on. “This is really possible, huh?”
“You can read up. It only happens once in a while with really powerful wizards,” the mediwitch remarked, her blue eyes lit up with knowledge. “Do you want me to call someone? Granger? Weasley? Who is the other parent?”
“Uh… I’ll tell them. What…” Harry paused, letting his words trail off. He hadn’t had sex with anyone but… Jax and he was a mundane biker. “Double shit.”
“Do you want to keep it?”
“Uh… I’ll… uh… get back to you on that.”
Ron and Hermione stared at him, both blinking widely.
“You’re pregnant,” Hermione finally spoke, her voice faint.
“Yeah. Looks like. It’s not fully formed yet, not even a baby but…” Harry sighed and put his hand on his stomach, seeing Ron pale a little. “I’m powerful enough that my magic formed a kind of… temporary womb?”
“Figures it’d be you,” Ron remarked bemusedly.
Harry flipped him off and Ron threw a crude Auror hand signal at him.
“Boys,” Hermione interrupted, shaking her head. “So you’re alright otherwise.”
“Yeah. I just… have a kid growing inside me and the other parent is a no maj biker.”
“Harry, you went out with a biker?” Ron questioned wearily. “A biker?”
Harry was about to say something when Ron added something else.
“Well, at least he wasn’t Malfoy,” Ron spoke, pushing off from the wall in the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. Harry snorted in amusement at the words. “I think Astoria would want to have words with you if that was the case. You gonna tell him?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna go right up to him and say, hey, I’m the guy you fucked around with last month. I’m a wizard actually and oh, yeah, I’m pregnant with your child ? That’d go over well. Not to mention I’m still working on the case for Kingsley. Also… I haven’t made up my mind if I’m gonna keep it or not.”
Harry kept out the fact that he was pretty sure Jax had been to prison. For what, he didn’t know, but that might have colored their opinions of him.
Hermione shrugged. “I think it would be an exception to the Statute.”
Harry gestured to his stomach, wondering about the little life growing in there. “I have time. I don’t know if I’m keeping the little spawn. I do… I want kids though.”
“We’ll back your play either way,” Ron remarked, reaching out to curl his fingers into Hermione’s.
Harry nodded thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair.
“It was a one night hookup,” Harry argued, glancing at the mirror in front of him a few days later.
The mirror tutted. Harry sighed, flashes of memory running through his mind. “It was really good sex.”
“Good sex does not a relationship make.”
“You’re a mirror.”
“Oh, of course, don’t listen to me because I’m a mirror.”
Harry wrinkled his nose and flicked his fingers at the mirror, wandlessly running a diagnostic charm. He found nothing amiss, no prank charm from George on it, no nothing. He shrugged and took off for the Ministry.
It was about the time that he turned away from a curse headed his way, aimed right at his stomach, that he realized he wanted to keep the child. It’d already been two months since he’d been in California and his magic was already changing, focusing on his stomach and the womb below it. If he was being honest with himself, there was never any doubt as to whether or not he would keep it. He wanted kids, no matter how they came to him.
Three and a half months in and the morning sickness stopped, his belly small but noticeable.
Four months turned into five, which soon enough turned into 8 and a half. Harry was so busy with another case, this time thankfully, not a rogue dark wizard, that he forgot about the time and the date. He still hadn’t made up his mind as to whether or not to try to track down Jax and see if… His mediwitch had already put him on a desk job at the office and Harry had more or less acquiesced. Less chance of being cursed or hexed there, he supposed.
He hadn’t wanted to know the sex of the kid but had a couple of names on the list.
His friends had suggested most of them, some for a girl, some for a boy, some that he wouldn’t even consider naming a kid. Those were mostly George’s ideas or Luna’s.
A week later and on May 17th, 2004, little Amelia Potter was born with bright green eyes and a couple of curls of vibrant blonde hair. She looked up at him with those eyes the minute she was put in his arms, her eyes lighter than his own, far from the shade of the killing curse. She sniffled and cried for a moment, for two, before quieting, as he reached out slowly, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. His heart stopped and then jump started, warmth coiling through him.
She was named after Amelia Bones, the woman who had fought for justice during the war.
“Amelia…” Harry whispered, leaning back against the hospital bed at St Mungos.
She watched him intently then hiccuped suddenly, her eyes widening at the force of it. Harry smiled and smoothed a hand down her small chest, seeing her eyes widen more, like she was wondering what the fuck was going on. He could just imagine her saying, what the fuck just happened? Except without the swear word. He’d have to watch what he said in front of her, at least for the next few years.
“She’s beautiful,” Hermione whispered, standing at the door, next to Ron and George and Luna and Neville and Ginny.
“Yeah,” Harry murmured, his heart already overflowing with love for his daughter. “Hey, Amelia, I’m your… dad. I guess.”
Ron snorted and Harry ignored him, his world dwindling to the little girl in his arms.
Amelia hated vegetables but loved fruit. She loved bananas but would only eat them at a specific time. And that was breakfast, anywhere from 9am to 10am. She loved sweet things, something that she had gotten from him. As she grew, she could charm anyone into giving her what she wanted just by blinking her eyes.
The first time he took her on a ride on his broomstick, she was 2 and a half and she loved it. The first time he took her with him to work, everyone loved her. The Daily Prophet already had plenty of pictures of her and the whole wizarding world seemed to know her name by the time she was three.
By the time she was three and a half, Harry began to realize that he was a little unsatisfied with being an Auror. He was 29, with a daughter whom he loved, and he’d already taken two killing curses after killing Voldemort. Taken two killing curses and woken up a few minutes later, healthy and alive.
He sighed as he watched Amelia toddle around the house, around Grimmauld Place, and smiled. She had her stuffed wolf under one arm and her toy wand in the other, the wand only capable of emitting sparks. She was definitely magical but… there was something…
Harry watched as she toddled over to the kitchen table and crawled underneath it, falling flat on her bottom for a moment and then broke out into loud peals of laughter at the motion. The shadows that radiated from the table seemed to curl around her, making her giggle even more.
“Dad!”
Harry laughed quietly and got up from his chair, warmth flooding him at the sight of his daughter enjoying herself. He was not going to be like his aunt or uncle were. He knelt down in front of the table and shooed away the shadows idly, meeting her bright green eyes. “Yes, sweetheart? Did you make new friends again?”
Amelia nodded vehemently, pouting as he scooped her up from under the table. “They like me!”
Harry booped her on her nose and she squirmed around, going cross eyed trying to watch his finger. He tried but failed to withhold a smile at her expression. “You make friends easily, huh.”
“Yep.”
“Just keep Padfoot with you, alright?” Harry gently suggested, brushing over Padfoot’s soft fur. The stuffed wolf was a big one but it was all black, with yellow eyes, more of a Grim than a wolf, but Harry liked the reminder of both his godfathers. “He’ll keep you safe.”
Amelia nodded seriously and scrambled to get down, her stomach growling. “Can we have a snack?”
“Course. Let me just fix something up,” Harry offered, putting her down and standing up. “Stay in the living room, okay?”
He waited until she nodded before walking into the kitchen, pondering what to grab.
“ I never would have expected her.”
Harry didn’t even blink at Death’s arrival, the swish of the noncorporeal cloak echoing in the air. “I think it’s time.”
Death was silent for a minute. “ You mean to track down this… Jax?”
“I’ve been thinking about him on and off for the last three and a half years. He deserves to know.”
Harry pulled out some carrots and an apple, putting them all on a cutting board and slicing them in the exact way Amelia liked. Thinly cut and halved. He popped a slice of apple in his mouth before turning around to face Death, taking in the sight of the skeletal entity.
“You’ve never given me an exact answer as to why she was born in the first place.”
“ Hmm.”
Death looked at him with unseeing eyes, its gaze going beyond them both, through the walls, to where Amelia was. They both heard her giggle, probably playing with one of her toys from her chest. These days she loved to play with the dragon that flew and roared, powered by magic.
“ I’ve looked. There has not been one single Master of Death before but you… You are something else. Power and love. Your daughter has something else too. She plays with shadows like they’re her cohort. It’s something from her other father in addition to your whole being.”
Harry blinked even as he swallowed. “Her other father? Jax?”
“ Amelia was born because you and this other man are… compatible. He is a Reaper in more ways than one.”
Harry damn near dropped the knife he was using and then consciously put it on the board, using a pulse of magic to finish the slicing. “What.”
“ Not by your definition. I mean to say he could… He has the potential to be yours. To be your second in command.”
“Okay. I don’t…” Harry trailed off, tilting his head in thought. “She’s going to be powerful.”
Death nodded.
“Wait, what do you mean by Jax is a Reaper in more ways than one?”
“ Look for the motorcycle club called the Sons of Anarchy. Their symbol is a reaper.”
Harry snorted loudly and then paused, backpedaling a little. “Do you mean she can control you? Please don’t tell me she can. If so, her teenage years are gonna be… something.”
Death cackled, loud and high pitched, eerie. “ No, she cannot. Only you can. I chose you, not her.”
It took a month after that to track down the charter of Sons of Anarchy that held one Jackson Teller and then travel to California. By then Amelia was approaching her 4th birthday, just a week and half away. They arrived in Charming, California four years after he had met Jax in Stockton, after fucking around with him.
Harry held Amelia in his arms as he approached the compound of SAMCRO, having heard the roar of motorcycles from above. His broom was already tucked away in his pocket, Amelia’s bag thrown over his left shoulder, and his groggy little girl in his arms. He’d taken an extended vacation from the office, telling Ron and Hermione about where he was going.
They knew he’d probably be gone for some time. Didn’t want to be too quick in telling Jax about his world or the fact that Amelia was his too. He had in fact let MACUSA know he was in the area in case they wanted him to consult on a case. There was a magical school in the area too, closer to Sacramento than Charming, and he was already scheduled to give a few talks in Defense.
The roar of even more motorcycles echoed in the air and Amelia perked up at the noise. Her eyes went wide and she shook a little in excitement, landing down on the cement after giving him that look. The look that said, put me the fuck down. He laughed at her, seeing her answering pout, and put her down easily, smoothing down her shirt and shorts, ruffling her blonde curls. Harry had braided her hair earlier this morning but much like his hair, some strands were starting to come undone.
“Whoa,” Amelia whispered, peeking into the compound and watching as a pack of bikers came flooding in. The bikers sped past them and rode their bikes right into the compound yard, falling into a line at the edge of the yard.
Harry nodded in half agreement and tilted his head as he studied each of the men. He let his gaze move past all but one of them, watching as they all lined up their bikes against the far railing and dismounted. Several of them headed right into the other building on the lot, what looked like a bar with the reaper glaring at them from all angles.
Harry rolled his eyes at the sight, half disbelieving at seeing a fictional reaper skull but then the tug at his fingers drew his attention out of his thoughts. Amelia pulled at his hand, a four year old child distracted by all the new sights and sounds. She’d been alone in that, in her curious ways and unafraid of new things.
“Come on! I wanna see!”
“Alright. Just stay close.”
He hadn’t told her why they were here. Just that they were meeting a friend who he hadn’t seen since before she’d been born. A friend that was a no-maj and she mostly knew to keep their world secret. He let her lead him into the compound, past the barbed wire fence that surrounded the lot, garage and bar.
His gaze was still fixed on the man who hadn’t left his mind all those four years ago. Jax Teller had dismounted from his bike and walked right over to the garage bay doors, a leather kutte over his chest. His golden blond hair was as bright as Harry remembered it being, matching Amelia’s.
There were a few mechanics working in the garage, their uniforms saying they worked at Teller-Morrow garage. Harry eyed Jax as he shrugged off his kutte, leaving a dark shirt under it, and slowly walked over, stopping a few feet from the open bay doors. The garage office door was a few feet away, open to the yard.
“Jax?”
Amelia glanced up at him, looking between him and then peering over at Jax, who turned around at Harry’s voice. Her hand was still in his, clinging onto him, as Jax’s eyes widened a little.
Jax stiffened for just a moment, apprehension lining his face for just a minute before vanishing. He took a step towards them and another, cocking his head in confusion when he saw Amelia.
“Harry. What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” Harry offered, lifting his shoulders a bit. His gaze went to the garage and the clubhouse, where most of the bikers had gone, before focusing on Jax. “I… wanted to see you.”
Jax blinked and was about to say something when Amelia beat him to it. She stepped between the two of them and looked up at Jax, letting go of Harry’s hand. “Who are you?”
Jax grinned--Harry sucked in a breath at that smile, that bright grin, recognizing it in a heartbeat-- and knelt down to be at eye level with her. Harry supposed that grin of Jax’s was the Teller charm and of course Amelia had it too. “Name’s Jax. And who would you be, little lady?”
Amelia tilted her head, smiling shyly for a moment. “I’m Amelia.”
“Oh?” Jax glanced up at Harry curiously before meeting Amelia’s eyes again. “How old are you sweetheart?”
Amelia stared at him, her gaze looking him over suspiciously. “I’m about to turn 4. How does my dad know you? Did you meet in London? Can your bikes fly?"
Jax laughed at her multiple questions, the edges of his eyes crinkling up with delight. “No, I'm afraid they can't."
"Ahhh," Amelia pouted dejectedly, crossing her arms. “My dad has a bike.”
“You didn’t tell me you have a bike,” Jax teased, looking up at Harry again, mischief in his blue eyes.
“Yeah, I usually don’t bring that up mid… you know what,” Harry offered, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation.
“He never lets me ride on his,” Amelia complained and glared up at him.
Jax stood up, looking between the two of them, grinning, his eyes darkening with heat. “Your dad and I had a sleepover. That’s how we met.”
Amelia’s eyes lit up at his words. “Cool! I slept over at Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron’s place with Hugo and Rose last week. It was fun. Did you guys have a pillow fight?”
Harry hit his forehead with a palm. Jax’s grin widened. “Kind of.”
“Teller, you are a bad influence,” Harry groaned.
“I try,” Jax offered, winking at him as he brushed some hair out of his face. “Maybe you can bring your bike around here sometime.”
“I’d like that.” Harry turned around and looked over at the clubhouse, before looking at Jax again. He wondered… if the man had thought about him over the past 4 years like Harry had thought about him. He fully intended on telling Jax the truth so… “I’ll be around.”