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Taken II: Drifter	By : slytherincailin Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4983 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fan-fiction based upon the world and characters of Harry Potter which are owned exclusively by J. K. Rowling. No profit or money was gained.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Chapter Eleven:

"Harry."

No response was received, only silence.

Ron growled low in his throat before breaking fully from the surface of the ocean, his red hair shorn and falling only to his shoulders and his violet-blue scales glittering in the midmorning sun.

He moved towards the beach swiftly, freezing when a round, pink fruit was lobbed in his direction, barely missing his head.

"Go away, I refuse to speak to you!"

Draco chuckled from his seat beside the corner of their home as Ron's gaze narrowed on a small figure seated against a nearby tree, his black hair fanning him like a cloak and his stomach round with child. "Damn it all, Harry, you're actin' like a child!"

"How could you?" Harry's voice was laden with betrayal, his green eyes sparkling in the yellow natural light and his skin dry, devoid of his scales.

Ron rolled his eyes heavenward and took a breath, calmly counting the passing seconds before he aimed a level glare at Draco. "You could bloody well help! Restrain your mate!" The blonde pirateoffered him only a raised eyebrow before ignoring the pair and going back to the reading stones Lupin was placing before him. Ron growled.

"Really, Harry, this is ridiculous. It's just hair, it was getting in the way, I had to cut it!"

"How dare you cut your hair without my permission!"

Ron barely restrained the hiss that built in his throat, the only thing preventing him from grabbing the male and squeezing sense into him was Ron's knowledge of the strange hormones coursing through his friend. "Alright, alright!" the red head seethed, stepping forward swiftly. "I'll not touch a hair on my head until it is fully grown back. Are you bloody well happy?"

Harry sniffed and turned his head away, his pert nose sticking in the air in a gesture funnily similar to Draco. Ron sighed. "You should be dressed and ready by now, Luna and the others will be here soon. Their ship is due come lunch time."

The slighter Allura ignored him in favour of running pale fingers through his tangled mess of hair. Draco chuckled happily. "Leave him be, if he wants to greet Luna looking like something dragged him from the ocean backwards, that's up to him." He gasped as Harry rewarded the statement with a swift tug to his pale blonde hair. Ron snorted as he took a seat beside Lupin, the dark haired Allura smiling as he watched Draco drag Harry's yelling form between his legs to comb his unruly black hair.

With the heat of the sun and the soothing motions of those fingers, Harry soon found himself lulled to a near sleep, drowsier than he had been in days. "Feels nice" he murmured sleepily, drawing a chuckle from the taller blonde. "Of course it does, you haven't combed your hair in a week."

Harry offered only a diluted purr in response, his eyes slipping closed and his shoulders relaxing until his back lay flush against Draco's chest and he was asleep. The silver-eyed pirate sighed, his arms drawing up and around Harry's slender frame as he rocked them both softly, a gentle sway that settled the kicking of the babe in Harry's swollen stomach.

"Odd pair, aren't they?2 Ron murmured quietly to Lupin who grinned up at him. The Allura's once neon scales had darkened since he had last seen him to a honey shade that settled prettily against his skin.

"Heard tha'" Harry grumbled sleepily, his eyelashes fluttering even as he sank lower. Ron merely chuckled in response, his eyes suddenly fixed on the red highlights he had only just noticed running through Lupin's dark locks.

###

Sparrow awoke suddenly, her breath a swift indrawn gasp as eyes as round as saucers struggled to see what lay around her.

The room was black, devoid of any light or furniture save for a mattress that had been pressed against the far wall. No windows marked the walls, leading her to believe that she was, as she had feared, underground.

She struggled to stand, only to shriek when a sharp pain in her wings drew her back to the floor with a bang. She whimpered as she inched the appendages forward, each slight movement causing a spark of pain to lick at her nerves. What she saw made her heart plummet.

The main feathers of her white wings had been clipped, some ripped fully free and dousing the whiteness with splashes of very dark blood. She had been clipped. She could not fly. The young Veela stared around her with tear stained eyes, drawing her knees into her chest as a strangled sob escaped her lips. Before she could help herself, sharp cries were falling from her throat, piercing sounds that were neither bird nor human but horrifically full of despair and pain.

###

"What a place to land."

Gabriel glanced to the head of their flock, the oldest man there who offered them only a distinct shake of his head as the younger boys cheered and hurried into the building before them.

"We cannot deny the young, Berma, allow them this small pleasantry and they will follow you all over the world."

Berma huffed an amused laugh, his black eyes darting to Gabriel curiously as they followed the five other Veela into the main Greeting room of the building. "You do not group yourself as one of the young, Gabriel? Thirty is younger than some of the men who were so eager to land here."

Gabriel merely shrugged, sweeping butter-yellow hair from his eyes as he surveyed the room. It was large, incredibly exotic and unfamiliar in its plush furniture, sweeping material decorations and incense lanterns. A woman sat behind a table watching their approach, her smile soft and tired, though her eyes were bright.

"May I help you?"

Berma settled the five Veela with a swift glare, silencing them enough for Gabriel to hear the soft music that echoed from the ceiling. It was possibly the cleanest, warmest brothel Gabriel had ever encountered, not that he had spent much of his time in those. He had had his devious moments with the other males, sneaking glances through doorways of buildings like this, hoping to catch a glance of a pretty woman, or man. He had been young and reckless once.

Yet however comfortable this house seemed, and however eager his family were in getting to know the people here, he could not shake the unease slowly settling over his shoulders.

It was not until Berma swivelled to glance at him that they heard it, a shriek almost too far away for their ears, let alone the human ears around them. It was a scream unlike the many they had heard before, from those in pain or those lost in anger, it was a scream that forced a growl from their throats and the hackles on all of the Veela present to rise. It was the scream of a Veela infant in danger. Berma turned on the woman behind the desk, a snarl dropping from his tongue.

"Where is the child?"
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Taken II: Drifter