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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
- 10
- 11
- 12
Extra Disclaimer: This chapter, and the last, contain parts taken directly from Goblet of Fire, altered only slightly. I make no money from including them in here.

“Well, at least the Skrewts are small,” said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.
“They are now.” Hermione said in an exasperated voice, “But once Hagrid’s found out what they eat, I expect they’ll be six feet long!”
“Well, that won’t matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?” Teased Ron, grinning slyly at her.
“You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up.” Hermione said. “As a matter of fact, I think he’s right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all.”
Shiloe kept silent, watching Malfoy’s retreating back with hungry eyes. Now that he had found his first anchor and got a taste of what the bonds could do for him, grounding him as well as giving him a warm, content feeling of fulfillment, he wanted more.
He saw Malfoy head off, telling his friends he had to use the bathroom, and smiled.
“There’s something I have to do really quick. I’ll see you later.” He said, brushing his fingertips against Neville’s palm before he left, following the route Malfoy had taken.
He found Malfoy standing in a deserted hallway, apparently not going to the bathroom after all.
“I thought so.” The blonde said, narrowing his grey eyes in suspicion. “You were staring at me all through class. Why?” He demanded.
Shiloe sighed and walked into a deserted classroom. Malfoy followed.
Shiloe closed the door and used a Shiloe ward—one that Shiloe had instinctive knowledge of, but no one else could learn or cast—and sat on a desk.
“Hello, Draco Malfoy. I’m overjoyed to meet you.” Shiloe said formally, using the greeting a Shiloe used when meeting an anchor that might prove volatile. “Bear me no ill will, and hear me out.”
Draco frowned. “What?” He asked.
“I am not the one you dislike, but a being that has no reason to deserve your enmity. The road I have travelled has been fraught with hardship, and I have not remained untouched by it. I am Shiloe, and I need to bond with you as an anchor, or risk death or madness without you.” He said.
“Is this your idea of a sick joke?” Draco asked, sneering.
Shiloe raised an eyebrow, and it began to hail.
Draco tried to escape the golf-ball-sized balls of ice hitting his head and shoulders. “Shite, alright, I believe you!” He yelled.
Shiloe stopped the hail.
“Fuck. I’m an anchor?”
Shiloe smirked, and then inclined his head, once.
Draco sighed. “I don’t like Potter.”
“I don’t ask that you do so, simply that you do not judge ME by the way HE is. I am a separate person altogether.” Shiloe explained.
“It’s a sexual bond.” Draco said. It obviously was not a question, but something he already knew to be true.
“That it is.” Shiloe agreed.
Draco narrowed his eyes. “I top exclusively.” He said.
Shiloe shrugged. “That’s fine by me.” He said nonchalantly. “I just want to make sure I have my anchors. Madness and death do not sound very palatable to me.”
Draco nodded. “Do we need to have sex right away?” He asked.
Shiloe sighed. “Well, I became active today, and I haven’t had a chance to take my sustenance yet. I need either sex or blood, and soon. Or I will begin to lose control of my powers, and I want to remain secret.”
Draco cocked his head. “So, this will be a relationship where we go our separate ways once you’ve gotten what you need from me?” He asked.
Shiloe smirked. “No. I fully intend to spend time with you and get to know you better, but it will have to be behind closed doors. We will treat each other the same as you and Harry do in public. Except that you could be a bit nicer.” He suggested.
Draco smirked. “I suppose that’s true. Doesn’t mean I’m going to, though.”
Shiloe shook his head. “I guess not. Now, are you willing to seal the bond and give me sustenance, or do I need to go find another anchor?” He asked.
“Fine.” Draco said. “What do I need to do to seal it?”
Shiloe smirked. “All I need is a simple kiss to seal the bond.” He said.
Draco rolled his eyes, but grabbed Shiloe around the waist and pulled him close. “I may not like Potter, but I have a reputation as an incredible lover AND kisser, and I refuse to let anything change that. I suppose that makes you a very lucky Shiloe.” He said, and then claimed Shiloe’s mouth heatedly.
Shiloe gasped into the kiss when Draco’s hand fisted in his hair, tugging slightly as his sharp little teeth nipped at Shiloe’s bottom lip. Shiloe felt Draco bring his tongue into play and mewled, thrusting against Draco’s groin, feeling an answering hardness there. It seemed Draco wasn’t as impartial toward Harry as he liked to proclaim.
Again, Shiloe felt the bond solidify and give a single pulse before it settled, humming slightly, like the other. He broke the kiss in satisfaction.
Draco sighed in disgust and held out his left arm. “Drink quickly, please, and let me get to lunch.”
Shiloe took the proffered arm, a little saddened that Draco offered blood rather than sex, but at this point, he supposed that was to be expected. He licked over the inner forearm, delighting in the taste, and hummed before he looked into Draco’s eyes, called out his Feeding fangs, and opened his mouth.
Draco jerked back slightly at the first sight of the vampire-like fangs, then calmed and let Shiloe bite him.
Shiloe made the bite pleasurable, thrilling at Draco’s soft moan as he sucked gently at the Slytherin’s arm, taking Draco’s blood and magic into himself, the feeding stabilizing him more than the bonds alone could.
Finally, every sense became fully alert, like a rose unfolding to catch the rays of the sun. He could hear, see and smell better than before, and even the taste of Draco’s sweet blood had gained different depths of flavor he hadn’t noticed before.
He pulled his mouth away from Draco’s arm, licking the small wounds gently. “I’m not a vampire, so you’ll have to either cover that with glamour or clothing until it heals.” He said. “Sorry.”
Draco sneered. “Well, if you had told me that before, I would have bent you over one of these desks instead.” He sighed, poking at the tiny holes that were still just barely oozing tiny droplets of blood.
Shiloe smirked. “There’s no need to use these desks when I have four perfectly usable beds in my PRIVATE suite.” He said smugly.
Draco looked at him in interest. “Oh? Private, you say? DO tell me more.”
“Meet me on the fourth floor tonight, in front of the picture of a meadow full of red flowers, at six. I’ll SHOW you. You’ll have to deal with any other anchors I may have there as well, but that’s alright, I’m sure.” Shiloe said.
Draco nodded. “I can handle that, provided Weasley and Weaslette are not anchors as well.” He said.
Shiloe chuckled. “They aren’t, thank Merlin. I don’t think I could handle that, either.”
“Fine. Six o’clock sharp. I’ll be there.” Draco said.
Shiloe nodded. “You can go to lunch now. I have to go as well.” He said.
Draco left, casting one more glance back at Shiloe before he turned the corner.
Shiloe left the classroom unwarded and leaned against the wall with a heaving sigh. He smiled widely. The sounds of the group dining in the great hall were able to reach his ears now, and everything looked sharper. He could see the magic moving now, waves of color dancing along the walls, and he could feel the air currents that were moving about the castle brushing along his skin as they slightly moved the tiny hairs there.
Everything was so much more intense.
Shiloe headed down to lunch, sitting between Neville and Hermione, Ron on Hermione’s other side.
“So, what’s up?” Neville asked in an undertone.
“Later.” Shiloe whispered to him, glancing at Ron and Hermione.
Neville nodded.
Shiloe began to look at the food, using Harry’s memories to decide what to eat, since he only wanted the most delicious foods. He had no need for food, but still had to eat for appearances’ sake, so why not take only the best-tasting morsels?
As other students filtered in, Shiloe began to eat.
He paused, fork halfway to his mouth, when yet ANOTHER of his bonds flared blue and connected. He felt confidence, dedication to his grades, and anticipation over the Triwizard Tournament that was taking place this year. His head snapped toward the entrance.
Holy.
Hell.
Shiloe’s eyes landed on a tall brunette who was grinning charmingly and chatting animatedly with two girls. He quickly dug around in Harry’s memories and came up with his identity: Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff’s Seeker.
He smirked. This one was absolutely delicious. Tall, charming, and nicely muscled. He lustfully watched Cedric take his seat at the Hufflepuff table and hummed under his breath, already deciding how he was going to get the Hufflepuff’s attention.
Shiloe was distracted by Blaise leaving the great hall, obviously finished eating.
“Hm, I have to go. See you in class!” He said, following Blaise surreptitiously. He saw the black teen head into a bathroom and followed him, waiting near the sinks until Blaise came out of his stall.
Blaise stopped short at the sight of Shiloe leaned against a sink, arms folded over his chest, obviously waiting for him. “Potter?” He asked in curiosity.
Shiloe smiled. “No.”
Blaise frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not Harry. I’m actually someone I’m sure you’ve heard of. My name is Shiloe.” He said. He was getting really sick of all the introductions.
Blaise snorted. “Right. Very funny, Potter. Please leave now.” He said in a bored tone.
Shiloe stopped him. “If you don’t believe me, inhale deeply.” He said demandingly.
Blaise narrowed his eyes, then stepped close to him and inhaled.
Shiloe smirked. “Honestly, the fact that I can tell what you are should be proof enough.” He said dryly.
Blaise recoiled, stumbling back a few steps and falling on his ass.
Shiloe smirked. “See?” He asked.
Blaise shook his head. “It CAN’T be! You’re not even a real person!”
Shiloe snarled, crouching over Blaise and pinning him flat against the floor. “I assure you, I am more than real. You have no choice in this, you know. Now that you’ve caught the scent, your wolf will not let you rest until you’ve claimed your mate.” He said.
Blaise closed his eyes and groaned. “Bloody fuck.”
Shiloe smiled. “Not the way I plan it. Unless you’re into blood?”
“When do we meet?” Blaise asked in resignation.
“Six o’clock, fourth floor. There is a picture of a meadow full of red flowers. Meet me there.” He said.
Blaise nodded. “Alright.”
Shiloe claimed his mouth, knowing that Blaise had no option about it either way, so asking was a moot point. A werewolf only ever had one mate, after all.
He felt the bond seal itself off, and sighed. “Now, I have to get to Divination. I expect to see you tonight. And don’t worry. I mean you absolutely no harm, despite our rather shaky start.”
Blaise sighed, and nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Shiloe smirked. “See that you are. I’ll be seeing you, then.”
He left as Blaise got up and dusted himself off with a sigh.
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Shiloe