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Chameleon's Song	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 132344 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
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- 14
AN: I wish to extend an apology for my ignorance of the stipulations in the TOS. These term revisions, not in effect when I joined this site some six years henc,e have been explained to me, in lengthy and succinct terms, and I have complied by removing the offending poll. I am in no humor for researching the ins-and-outs of the forum board on said site, so I will post this “teaser for future possible pairings in chapters thus unwritten”:

For Harry’s pure human partner(s), I am contemplating Hermione Granger, Hannah Abbott, Lavender Brown, Isabel Macdougal or possibly another character. For Severus Snape’s future family, I am considering mating him with Septima Vector, Pomona Sprout, Aurora Sinistra, Charlie Weasley, Percy Weasley, Sirius Black, the reviewer suggested Hermione or Remus, or another character that may prick my fancy.

These are just some of the ways that my mind is working, and any comments on them are more than welcome, as it may help me to make a crucial decision. This is not a poll as that would be against the rules!

Thank You,

Robert P. Smith, esq.

Sammi_bear: Glad you’re with me!

SilverLion: Oh, yeah! The papers! They are important, I know.

Unneeded: The Patil sisters have always been an enigma to me. I have some fun planned for them.

Koisuru Boukun fan: Greedy is good, especially in a fanfic. Love ur comment, and everyone else’s too. I feel loved. Thanks for the vote of confidence. I don’t think I’ve made any other favorites list.

Chapter 12: It's a Dog's Life

Wulver: Be Not Wary of the Wolf Without the Were

The wulver is a kind of werewolf that is exclusively part of the lore of the Shetland Islands of Scotland. The wulver kept to itself and was not aggressive if left in peace. The Wulver was a creature like a man with a wolf's head. He had short brown hair all over him. His home was a cave dug out of the side of a steep knowe, half-way up a hill. He didn't molest folk if folk didn't molest him. He was fond of fishing, and had a small rock in the deep water which is known to this day as the 'Wulver's Stane'. There he would sit fishing sillaks and piltaks for hour after hour. He was reported to have frequently left a few fish on the window-sill of some poor body.

A similar un-hostile werewolf is the Faoladh from Irish lore. The Faoladh was said to protect children and stand guard over wounded men.

            The hallway that led to the hospital was quiet and deserted. Harry walked softly and his shoes made a soft shushing sound. He had escaped the dorm early, wanting to avoid confrontation with Seamus that could only end badly. The previous time had nearly thrown him over, leaving him wanting to bed his friend while still unsure of his true feelings about him.

            It was chilly out, and he pulled his robes tightly around him. He eased the doors open and slipped between them. The curtains blocked only seven beds, including the one that he’d come to visit. Terry, Draco, the Patils and Seamus had been released, for various reasons, and that left Blaise, Millicent, Luna, Pansy, Theodore, Susan Bones and Neville. He walked the distance and slipped through the opening.

            Neville slept with the sheet tangled around his belly, his limbs exposed and thrown wild.

He wore a tank top and boxer and was otherwise bare, his skin pasty and waxy looking.

            After closing the curtains behind him, Harry sat in the chair nearby, waiting silently as his friend slept. He leaned back and closed his eyes, relaxing and reviewing thoughts he’d put aside for a time. Such as:

            He was scheduled to go to the Malfoy’s on the following Friday, where he’d stay until Sunday night. This was relayed to him in an owl post he’d gotten the previous night. He wasn’t sure what he was expected to do while there, but he knew that his conduct would be under close scrutiny. He was thinking of asking Professor Sinistra for coaching in etiquette. He’d heard that she was from a high family and chose to work at the school due to a family catastrophe. The only problem was that he’d have to ask her about that in order to request the aid.

            A sound caught his attention and he opened his eyes to find Neville staring back at him. “Hello, Harry.”

            “Hey, Neville. How are you?” Harry asked sitting up straighter. Neville shifted up to a sitting position on his pillows.

            “I’m good. Should be getting out today. They said they couldn’t let you in to see us, so I’ve been kinda bored. There aren’t a lot of others who’d want to come see me. Dean stopped by once, but he was acting weird, so I thought he’d not come back. I wanted to talk to you, mostly.”

            “Yeah. That’s what they told me, too. They said I had to wait until today to come visit.”

            “Why? That was only for others . . . Harry, did you know what happened? What the potion did?” Neville asked and Harry nodded, his smile sardonic. “So, why would it be a problem for you? It only affects creature lines.”

            “My father’s family had a creature line, Nev.” Harry explained. “That’s why I wasn’t allowed to come in. That’s why I was held with the class that first day.”

            “But, you didn’t have to stay here. You didn’t display.” Neville stated.

            “Not from the potion, anyway. I did have a reaction, a day later, but nothing bad. Don’t tell anyone, okay?” Harry leaned in and spoke to the other lion.

            “Are you as closed mouthed about this inheritance as Zabini is?”

            “Me? No, I’ll tell you.” Harry smiled slyly and Neville leaned closer. “After all, you told me, sort of. When the potion went off. Salamandrea, right? I read about it and I’m impressed. Quite a cool inheritance, Neville.”

            “Thanks, I think. Until this week, I’ve been a bit of a disappointment in my family.”

            “Well, they’ll look at you differently, now.” Harry told him. “My family, the ones that are alive, would hardly praise me. My dad was a Chameleonis.”

            Neville leaned back, his mouth open and his eyes wide. In pure-blood families, like his own, you heard legends of such things, but most had never met one. He had heard bedtime stories that contained this ancient lineage when he was just a toddler. “That explains why you weren’t allowed in here. Wow. But, why don’t I feel anything toward you? I thought that you were like a walking love potion?”

            Harry rolled his eyes. He’d looked up a few volumes in the library that contained the world’s view of his family, and there was more myth and legend than facts or useful information. “I don’t think it works that way. I think, mind you I don’t know much myself, but I think that you’d have to be attracted to me first, for there to be any kind of reaction. Or, maybe I’d have to harbor those kinds of feelings, and then want to act on them. Sorry, Nev, but I don’t think that way about you.”

            “That’s fine with me, Harry. Friends, right?”

            “That would be great! I’m not sure about the others, even those in here. I’ve had my share of crushes, you know. I don’t go wild with them, but there are a couple that I’ve fancied, among those affected.” Harry blushed lightly at what he was admitting. He’d kept this from even Ron and Hermione.

*****

            By Sunday morning, almost all of the students had been released by the medi-witch and the school was humming with normalcy. Other than the visiting alumni, everything seemed back to its prior order. Terry was back and he and Harry had spent a few hours talking about their childhoods and their hopes for the future.

            “Can I tell you a secret?” Terry asked stopping in an alcove on the second floor. “I want to have one. A werewolf child.”

            Harry stopped with him and his brows furrowed. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked.

            “No! I mean, I’m gonna find a weremate. Someone compatible, to have the baby with. Someday, I’ll do it and we’ll have little wolves to continue on the line. I’m gonna change my name, too. Terry Lupin.” He announced.

            “Good for you! I think that’s great!” Harry said.

            “What about you?” Terry asked.

            “Me? I don’t know. I think I’ll love my children, whatever they are.” Harry spoke seriously. “I wouldn’t have a child that I didn’t plan to love.”

            “Harry,” Terry looked sad and Harry was sorry he’d caused this. “Your dad . . .er, our dad, could have changed his mind. We don’t know for certain. We never will.” Terry sounded so hopeful that Harry conceded.

            “You’re right. How could he fail to love a bunch of great kids like us?”

            “Well, maybe not Pansy.” Terry joked and both boys laughed.

*****

           The call that had gone out, when the Ministry of Magic had learned of the presence of the Chameleonis, was spread as far north as the reaches of Scotland and Ireland, and to the east into the untamed parts of Siberia. It was unknown how far to the south and west that word had gone, but by the beginning of the week, visitors were arriving from some of the farthest reaching wizard homesteads.

           Harry had managed to avoid most of the recent arrivals, but on the next bright Thursday morning, he happened upon the glaring visage of one Marcus Flint on his way out to the quidditch pitch for morning practice.

           “So, you’re the one?” Flint asked and Harry sneered his way.

           “The one, what?” Harry responded.

           “Don’t play coy, Chameleonis. I’ve heard directly, from my cousin, in the Ministry. We keep in touch, when something this important comes up.” Marcus had moved closer and Harry stood his ground. “I came to find out for myself.”

            “And why would you be interested in something like that?” Harry asked, stepping to the side, as if to continue on the path he’d been intercepted from.

           “Family.” Marcus said stepping in beside him.

           “Yours, mine or . . .” Harry began but was cut off.

           “Possibly, ours.” The Flint heir guffawed at Harry’s grunt. “Didn’t know that I knew that one, did you?”

           “Just didn’t expect you to . . . Again, what do you want, Flint?” Harry stopped and turned toward him, crossing his arms in defiance.

           “I might decide I want a mate.” The other man glared back, but without the same amount of venom Harry remembered from his first year. “I thought we could talk.”

           “First, I didn’t know you were creature blood, and second, I’ve still not admitted to being your Chameleonis. So, why would I want to talk to you, about anything?”

           Marcus sneered in a more familiar way, grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him to a less populated hallway, pushing the Chosen One up against the wall and bracketing him with strong keeper arms. “If you make one insinuation about my blood being tainted by troll, I’ll decrease the population of Chameleoni in the world by one. My blood line is Wulver, and I am the strongest and most prevalent to display in decades. So, try to deny your heritage, Chameleonis, while that is happening.”

           Harry knew exactly what Flint was referring to as his neck broke out in a soft black fur, lining his shoulders and mingling with his hair. He pushed the bigger man away, and held his ground once more. “I’ve read about that, so don’t think I’m stupid. I also know that troll blood doesn’t mix with human, at least not well enough to create a being. If you had it, you’d be a beast and not capable of attending Hogwarts. As for your heritage, it has nothing to do with me. I’m not interested, Flint.”

           “Oh, you’re interested, Potter.” Marcus said, making Harry’s name sound sexual. “If you weren’t, that wouldn’t have happened. My great-grandfather was involved with a Chameleonis, and I have his notes.”

           Harry was nearly tempted to ask to see them, but the man in front of him was making him angry, and that was not a good thing. He was supposed to speak with Lucius Malfoy that afternoon, about the first of his visits to the manor, and it wouldn’t do to be this upset. “I told you, I’m not interested. Find your mate somewhere else.” He called as he exited the school and left the other’s sight.

           Marcus was watching him with a sneer, and his eyes had a loathing look, like he’d just spoken with a pile of manure and it had dared to speak back, and insult him to boot. He turned away and walked down the stairs that led to the Slytherin dorms and the potions classroom.

*****

            Pansy did not skip. She didn’t know how, and had never had the inclination to learn. What Pansy did was dance as she walked, tripping the light fantastic, while she glided through the halls. She was headed up to the first floor, going to see Harry’s team practice on the pitch before breakfast. This was only odd because Pansy never rose before breakfast was served.

            She’d done a lot of things lately that were out of her norm, but then so was she.

            “Patsy. Patsy Black.” She muttered to herself as she went. Her mind was open, and that only slowed her down a millisecond, when she caught a scent on the air. “What?” she gasped and turned around to see the old captain of their team, Marcus Flint storming through the halls. She didn’t much care about him, but it was his scent that she smelled. It was familiar, and not in the way that any other member of their house’s would have been. “He smells like a dog.” She mused.

            She shrugged, moving on and continuing her dance toward the pitch.

AN2: Sorry, this is not very long, but I felt compelled to explain the reason for the revisions in the previous chapters, and to give an explanation for my pique.
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Chameleon's Song