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Shiloe	By : Sablesilverrain Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 47101 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the Potterverse, or anything you recognize here. I make no money from this either, sadly. I'm terribly poor. -.-

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Extra disclaimer: This chapter contains slightly altered scenes taken from Goblet of Fire. I make no money from including them here, nor do I claim ownership of them. Only the alterations to them are mine.
Shiloe opened his eyes and groaned. The aftershocks of so many emotions that were not his own were still roiling through him, and his head gave a vicious throb in protest. The room spun dizzily around him.
“Bugger.” He muttered, looking around.
Things were blurry.
He realized that someone had put Harry’s glasses on him, and his blood ran cold.
He had passed out.
In the fourth floor hall of Hogwarts.
He was no longer there, obviously, so where was he and who had found him?
He took the glasses off and looked around, then sighed. He was safe, at least. There were little things that could pose a direct threat to him in Hogwarts’ hospital wing, but who had found him and brought him here?
“Ah, you’re awake, I see. Shiloe.”
Shiloe groaned, closing his eyes. “Fuck you, go away.” He said.
Dumbledore walked to the bed and smiled at him. “I know you don’t like me-“
“THAT’S an understatement.” Shiloe interjected.
“But we must TRY to get along, for Harry’s sake.”
“No, WE don’t. Because WE won’t. I am not your little Harry, Headmaster. You would do well to leave me alone and not try to pry into MY life. Harry will allow it, but I will NOT.” He snarled.
Another swell of emotion hit him, and he turned over the side of the bed and promptly vomited.
Dumbledore patted his back, vanishing the mess.
Shiloe turned around on the bed in a lightning-fast movement, as wind started howling through the hospital wing. “DO NOT TOUCH ME!” Shiloe screamed, feeling Dumbledore’s emotions rocket through him.
He felt worry, fear, great care and affection for Harry, and regret over Harry’s fate that did nothing but add fuel to Shiloe’s hatred for the man. It might have been a perfectly human mistake that Dumbledore had made regarding Harry’s care, but sending him back every summer, knowing that he was being maltreated to ANY extent, was unforgivable in Shiloe’s eyes.
Dumbledore sat in a chair, sighing. “Helga brought you here since only she could touch you without you screaming in pain. What must we do about your lack of shielding?” He asked.
“WE do nothing. I find my anchors. Actually, you might be able to help with that. If I can go into a room where I will not be seen and you have others stand just outside the door, I can tell you when an anchor is there.”
Dumbledore nodded, and then called Madam Pomfrey into the room.
She bustled in and began running diagnostic spells over Shiloe.
Shiloe watched the magic with interest. Unlike the silvery color of the castle’s ambient magic, this magic was lime green—healing and diagnostic magic.
Once Madam Pomfrey had finished, she waved her wand and a door appeared, set into the wall. “You can rest in here, and I will stay with you. The Headmaster will bring in students—one to five at a time only, Albus, if you please—and you will let me know if any of them are an anchor to you. If so, we will begin sending students from the group away until you are left with your first anchor. We will only continue until we find the first, since you only need the one to build up your shields, and you will be left to discover the others on your own.”
Shiloe nodded. “Fair’s fair, I suppose. The hospital wing must be warded. I don’t feel as overrun in here.” He said absently, looking at the dark blue and light pink spells around the walls. Strong protective and calming spells, cast anew every few years by the Headmaster of the school to keep them fresh.
It was ancient magic that was no longer taught, but Rowena had explained that he, as well as Harry, would be taught the spells when needed, as she taught each Headmaster when they took their turn to head the school.
“The hospital wing IS warded, yes. That’s why we will be bringing in the students. It will be safer for you that way.” She explained.
Shiloe nodded. “Fine, then.”
“This way.” Madam Pomfrey said briskly. She led him into the small room, and he sat on the edge of the bed, while she took the chair next to the door.
Dumbledore left, and was back a few minutes later, talking softly to someone.
Shiloe felt the emotions and recoiled at the feel of the magical signatures of Ron and Hermione.
He looked at Pomfrey. “Neither of them, but I would like to speak with them briefly, if that is allowed.”
Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Neither is an anchor, Albus, but please bring them in.”
Ron and Hermione were ushered into the room.
Shiloe watched for a few minutes in smug glee as they stood, nervously waiting for his reaction to them.
“You two had better not act like that around me in public, if you know what’s good for you. You’ll expose me to the entire Wizarding world, and I will be most displeased. Act like you would around Harry in public, and I will do the same. However, know that I am not the friend you know. If you wish to become Pack, I suggest that you try to get to know me without letting your feelings about Harry get in the way.” He finished, and then smiled. “However, I thank you for being there for him.”
Hermione nodded. “We care for him, and we’d love to get to know you, too.”
Shiloe smirked. “WOULD you?” He asked in a dismissive tone. “Either way, please leave now. I need to find an anchor before I can get to class.”
Hermione cocked her head. “Oh, that reminds me! If you’re here, then who-”
“Salazar Slytherin is filling in for him, so that no one knows who is in here.” Dumbledore told them from the doorway.
Ron seemed to be suffering from a bit of shock. He had been pale and silent the whole time. Understandable, since he was a Pureblood, and seeing Shiloe would hammer home the extent of the abuse his best friend had suffered, while never saying a word about how bad it had really been.
After they left, Shiloe sighed in relief and massaged his temples. “Weasley emotion is a formidable force.” He told Madam Pomfrey when she seemed ready to dose him with a headache potion.
She merely smiled and nodded. “That it is.” She agreed.
Dumbledore came back with the next group of students.
Shiloe straightened, feeling Ginny, Neville and two magical signatures he did not recognize. The thing that had his attention, though, was the bond that had flared suddenly, causing a bright blue flash to obscure Shiloe’s vision for a moment. He looked at the fully-formed bond and smiled at Madam Pomfrey. “It’s Neville.” He whispered.
Madam Pomfrey nodded. “Neville can stay, Albus. Send the others back to class, please.”
Shiloe felt the others leave, and sighed, as his emotions settled into slight apprehension and curious expectation, the emotions coming off of Neville.
He walked out of the room and smiled at the sturdy fourth year. “Hi.”
Neville frowned. “Harry? But I saw you in class!” He said in total bafflement.
Shiloe sighed. “That wasn’t me. I believe it was a phantom image of me that the Founders conjured, for my protection from being discovered. I know this may be hard to hear, considering how close to Harry you are, but I am not Harry. My name is one I am sure you’ve heard before, if only in passing. I am Shiloe.” He said gently, walking toward Neville slowly.
Neville shook his head. “I don’t understand. You’ve… Harry, I mean, has always been so happy and strong. How could someone abused enough to manifest a Shiloe grow up like that?” He asked.
Shiloe shrugged. “He IS happy, here. And the strength you see is mostly luck and quick thinking. He’s had help every time he’s needed it, too.”
“Oh.” Neville’s eyes widened and he looked at Shiloe in shock.
Shiloe felt comprehension, sadness, compassion, and finally, hope flare within him. “Why are you telling me all this?” He asked in a whisper.
Shiloe smiled gently and slowly raised his hand to touch the skittish teen’s face. “I need you.” He said softly, knowing that those words would mean the most to the Gryffindor, who had never truly been needed and valued. “You’re my first anchor.” He added for clarification.
“Oh.”
Shiloe felt delight fill Neville’s entire being, soon joined by affection and a feeling of devotion that Shiloe was only half-surprised had kindled within him so quickly. Neville would stay with him for as long as Shiloe could love him, he knew.
“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” Shiloe asked quietly. “To seal the bond?”
Neville blushed, his eyes flicking to Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore.
Shiloe realized that he must be asking for Neville’s first kiss, and Neville obviously did not want to give it with an audience. He turned to the adults and snapped, “Do you two MIND?! Please leave us, if only for a moment.” He added in a harsher tone.
Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore quickly walked into her office, shutting the door to afford them privacy.
Shiloe sighed in relief. “Now, I will need to kiss you to seal the bond. Am I correct in assuming this will be your first kiss, as well?”
Neville nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m not really all that popular with the… Well, anyone.” He admitted.
“Actually, that’s good.” Shiloe said with a smirk. “I like that I’m the first to kiss you. I’m going to be your first for everything if you accept this bond, you know. I won’t share, and I am a sexual creature, so there will be a physical aspect to our relationship from the first. Can you accept all of this?” He asked, needing to be sure that Neville, at his age, was able to accept the longevity of an anchor-bond. He needed to know BEFORE he bound them irrevocably for years, and perhaps for life.
“I can accept it, and I will accept you, Shiloe.” Neville said, and Shiloe smiled widely, amazed to hear the traditional response from someone so young.
“Wonderful.” Shiloe breathed. He leaned down and sealed his mouth over Neville’s, surprised at the softness of his lips. He ran his tongue gently over Neville’s bottom lip, and Neville parted his lips, letting Shiloe in willingly.
Shiloe eagerly mapped out every corner of Neville’s mouth. He felt the bond settle between them, giving one contented pulse before it warmed and solidified. His mental shields, too, became firmer and his empathy dulled down to a general buzz of background noise.
He raised his head and took a long, smug look at Neville’s flushed cheeks, wide eyes and kiss-bruised, still-moist lips.
“We need to get to class soon.” Shiloe reminded Neville.
Neville nodded. “We have Care of Magical Creatures in fifteen minutes. My stuff is still out in the greenhouse, we’ll have to run out and grab it.” He frowned. “I can’t BELIEVE I missed the last bit of Herbology!”
Shiloe chuckled. “Was it worth it?” He asked.
“Of course.” Neville said. “I’d take you over dirt any day.”
Shiloe nodded. “Are you ready to head to class now?”
“Yeah.”
Shiloe grabbed Harry’s glasses, charming them to be clear glass so as not to arouse suspicion by not wearing them anymore. He turned to Madam Pomfrey’s closed office door. “Bye, Madam Pomfrey!” He yelled, ignoring the fact that Dumbledore was in there too, as he grabbed Neville’s hand and headed for the door.
Neville fell into step beside him. “Aren’t you going to say good-bye to Dumbledore?” He asked as they headed out into the hall.
“Nope. I don’t like him. He sent Harry back to that place, when Harry begged to stay here.” Shiloe snarled. “I’d be careful with him, since he is obviously going senile in his old age.”
Neville frowned. “He knew and still made Harry stay? That doesn’t sound like him.”
“He told Harry that the blood wards were his best hope. Too bad the beatings tried to kill him before the Death Eaters could manage it.” Shiloe hissed.
Neville began fanning himself. “Is it getting hotter in here?” He asked as they neared the doors.
“Sorry.” Shiloe took a few deep breaths and calmed himself.
Neville blinked a few times. “Were YOU doing that?” He asked.
“Shiloe can control the weather.” Shiloe said smugly.
Neville smiled with glee. “Wicked!”
“I’m going to ask that you act the same around me in public that you would with Harry. I don’t want anyone to know about me.” Shiloe said in a low tone as they approached the greenhouse.
They got Neville’s stuff and were heading to Care of Magical Creatures when they saw… Harry… Running towards them.
Shiloe stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Well, hello, self.” He said in bemusement.
“Oh, witty.” The mirror-image of Harry sneered. “I am going to release the phantom now that you are going back to class, Shiloe.”
Shiloe smirked. “Salazar, how are you even doing this?” He asked. “I thought you guys couldn’t physically leave the castle.”
The phantom sighed. “We can’t, and for this stunt I am going to be too drained to physically manifest for a week, at least. We can summon phantoms when we need to, but we usually don’t, because controlling them from the castle is too much of a drain on the castle’s magic—OUR magic—to do something like this without dire need. But protecting our Heir is dire need, especially when Helga said that we’ll need you in the future. I can’t tell you what for.” He said, and then the phantom dissolved.
Shiloe rolled his eyes. “Okay, that was weird, now let’s get to class.” He said.
Neville snorted and followed Shiloe.
They met up with Ron and Hermione quickly, and joined them the rest of the way, soon meeting the rest of the class as they neared Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures.
Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.
“Mornin’!” Hagrid said, grinning at Shiloe, Ron, and Hermione. “Be’er wait fer the Slytherins, they won’ want ter miss this — Blast-Ended Skrewts!”
“Come again?” Ron asked with a frown.
Hagrid pointed down into the crates.
“Eurgh!” Squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward.
“Eurgh” just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts, in Shiloe’s opinion. They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a Skrewt, and with a small “phut,” it would be propelled forward several inches.
“On’y jus’ hatched,” Said Hagrid proudly, “so yeh’ll be able ter raise ’em yerselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!”
“And why would we want to raise them?” Asked a cold voice.
The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy.
Shiloe turned to look at him, and another bright blue flash stunned him, quickly followed by one more. He closed his eyes, a bit nauseous at two anchor-bonds attaching themselves almost in synchronicity. He swayed a bit as he was startled by feeling two more people as keenly as he had felt Neville when he had first met with him in the hospital wing.
As Hagrid answered, Neville unobtrusively grabbed his wrist from where he stood nearby, the touch grounding Shiloe and letting him focus on the class, rather than the bonds now attaching him to Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.
‘At least I got the two CUTE Slytherins.’ Shiloe thought in humor, eyeing Crabbe and Goyle with distaste, before turning his attention back to what Hagrid was saying.
“…not sure what they’ll go fer — I got ant eggs an’ frog livers an’ a bit o’ grass snake — just try ’em out with a bit of each.”
“First pus and now this.” Seamus muttered.
Shiloe had to agree, glad the he had missed whatever ‘pus’ Seamus had been referring to. It was disgusting enough feeding the Skrewts.
He held a hand filled with the slimy, disgusting things he was trying to feed them inside the box. “Well, this is entirely revolting.” He said in an undertone to Ron, Hermione and Neville, who all nodded their agreement.
“So, Neville?” Hermione whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Are you…?” She looked meaningfully at Shiloe, who was staring back, eyes narrowed.
He looked like he was waiting for her to say something revealing about him aloud so he’d have an excuse to rip her tongue out.
Neville flushed and looked at Shiloe.
He rolled his eyes and shrugged, giving Neville permission to answer her.
Neville smiled, ducking his head. “Yeah.” He said softly, but happily.
Hermione smiled widely at him. “I’m glad.” She said simply, turning back to feeding the Skrewts.
Shiloe sighed in relief. So long as she kept wording sensitive information vaguely enough, Shiloe could let it slide, he supposed. For Harry’s sake. He needed his friends.
“Ouch!” Yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. “It got me!”
Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.
“Its end exploded!” Dean shouted angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.
“Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,” Hagrid said as he nodded.
“Eurgh!” Said Lavender Brown again. “Eurgh, Hagrid, what’s that pointy thing on it?”
“Ah, some of ’em have got stings,” Said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). “I reckon they’re the males. . . . The females’ve got sorta sucker things on their bellies. . . . I think they might be ter suck blood.”
“Well, I can certainly see why we’re trying to keep them alive,” Said Malfoy sarcastically. “Who wouldn’t want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?”
“Just because they’re not very pretty, it doesn’t mean they’re not useful,” Hermione snapped. “Dragon blood’s amazingly magical, but you wouldn’t want a dragon for a pet, would you?”
Shiloe and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione (and Shiloe through Harry) knew only too well — he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert. Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures, the more lethal, the better.
Shiloe wasn’t sure whether or not that worried him.
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Shiloe