Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 13
- 14
- 15
AN: Thanks to all who reviewed. Sorry this is late, but since I posted a short in mid-week, I thought it would be okay to do this today, instead of Sunday.

Silver Lion: Even Skrewt droppings need love. As for Harry’s mates, no Poll. Rules, remember? I like most of your suggestions, and will take them under advisement. But, no polls!

Kit: I don’t know when that went into effect, but I hadn’t heard it until I received two e-mails detailing it out. Bureaucracy!

Anon: welcome back! Seamus and Terry will be thrilled. Eight is good, but eleven sound like a handful. What if not all of them will be having children? Then is it good? The potions would be flowing with those two in cahoots, her growing ingredients and him brewing his little fingers to the bone. Neville gets someone, don’t you worry. Got that planned already.

Lady lizzy: No pressure at all. Thanks, I’ll get right on it. And it’s not whether the rule is stupid or not, just that I even tried to put it up on the forum, and it’s right nasty. I couldn’t figure it out, and I’m fairly computer literate. But, I will say they were lenient about the whole thing, gave me thirty days to take it down. By that time, I’d have been down with the whole thing, polling wise.

Unneeded: Harry is determined on this one, No Flint!

Jordan C: Oh, absolutely. Probably all of them, in one way or another!

Chapter 13: First Mate

Selkie: Underwater, in the air, Selkie, Selkie, every-nowhere!

Mythology tells us that Selkies are able to become human by taking off their seal skins, and can return to seal form only by putting it back on. The reliability of this information is suspect, as no one has ever proven to have either seen, nor captured, one of the beings.   The current conclusions about them are that they are rare, probably more so than either Salamandrea, Naiads or Chameleonis, and that they are only capable of breeding with these three partners. If they shed their skins or merely revert back and forth from form to form, is up to debate, and cannot at present be proven or disproven.

Selkies are more than likely either male or female, small in size and of quiet temperament, they blend into the crowds and are modest in the display of their talents. These are likely to be formidable, and notable at an early age. Selkies would be submissive to their mates, so the likelihood that they would be able to breed alone, one selkie with another, is improbable. They are magical, so would not be found among muggles, squibs or those witch and wizards with marginal to small magical cores.

Any reports of Selkie sightings must be made to the Department of Rare Beasts or the Department of Mysteries within four days of sighting. Failure is punishable by severe penalties. Underage Selkies will be taken into custody and placed in protective care.

            Harry stood in the headmaster’s office, a small satchel by his feet and his outer robes draped over his arm. Dumbledore sat at his desk, pretending attention to his papers there. The floo flared once, announcing the expected arrival of the Malfoy Patriarch to collect the boy for a weekend at his home.

“Ah, Lucius. Right on time, as usual.” Albus said. “As you can see, Harry is ready. I will, of course, be expecting him back in much the same condition.”

            Lucius glared for a minute, then smirked and said. “Indeed, and perhaps in an improved state. He’s still undernourished after six years of the school’s care. Come, Mr. Potter. As we agreed, and my wife and son are holding back dinner for your arrival.”

            The blond man turned and led the way through the floo connection and into his home. A house elf bigger and older looking than Dobby, waited to take their things. At once, the man strode through the house, forcing Harry to rush behind, and into a large formal dining room.

            Draco stood from his place when they entered, and held his hand out stiffly to Harry. “Good of you to come, Potter.” He grated out, shaking hands and gesturing to the place setting across from him.

            Harry was relieved in one way that they hadn’t chosen to put him next to the blond, but this way he’d have to face Draco throughout the meal. When he released Malfoy’s hand, he stepped over to Narcissa and took hers gently. “Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Malfoy.” He said patting the back of her hand with his free hand. “I shall attempt to be as congenial as possible, to show my appreciation.”

            Narcissa raised an eyebrow, smiled and nodded her understanding, adding, “I am sure that my son will endeavor to do the same.” and giving the blond youth a meaningful glance.

            Harry chuckled and released her hand when Lucius cleared his throat from the table head. The Chosen One moved to his seat and carefully sat down. He looked at the array of silver, crystal and porcelain and swallowed hard. He said a silent thank you to Hermione, Isabel and Neville for drilling him on the use of each piece.

            Salads appeared in front of them and Harry selected the proper fork before he could be accused of simply mimicking his hosts. He wasn’t sure that they had arranged a formal meal to embarrass him, but he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, if they had.

            “Mr. Potter, I understand that you have become exceedingly good at potions.” Narcissa said as she toyed with her food. “Draco says that your improvement is remarkable.”

            Harry looked up in time to see the blond look askance nervously. “He did? Really . . Draco?” Harry teased.

            “I said that you had been rubbish at it for years and now you were passable.”

            “Oh, that sounds more believable.” Harry turned back to the woman. “I took some extra tutoring from Professor Snape and found some illuminating texts. When you finally understand Potion Theory, as it is with True Spell Form in casting, then potions is much easier to be passable in.”

            “True Spell Form is a pureblood regimen, Mr. Potter. I am surprised that you would have researched it.” Narcissa responded.

            “Please, call me Harry. I’ll feel like I’m still in school otherwise.” Harry said with a smile. “Potion Theory and True Spell Form were constructs of the Founders, adopted by pure-blood families, and rejected by those who think they can by-pass, or take short cuts in their work. Without these fundamentals, a spell, a charm or a potion, is without a strong foundation and is often easily mutated.”

            “That is one way to understand it, but my thoughts are that the concepts are routed in wizarding tradition and these are difficult for those not raised in them.” Narcissa explained.

            “Mother, Harry wasn’t raised among wizards,” Draco injected and Harry gave him a hard look.

            “Really? I had no idea.” She insisted and Harry waved her concern away.

            “And even though raised by Muggles, Harry has grasped some of these base ideas.” Draco’s praise was laced with weak sarcasm and Harry ignored it, as well.

            “My relatives knew nothing of wizarding theories, but I did pick up a few helpful things from living there. They had a chart, called The Periodic Table of Elements and it listed these out with their atomic weights. Each different metal, chemical or gas had a coding of its related number of protons or electrons or neutrons. These numbers, I have found, are often indicative of the basis for Potion Theory. Elements with higher counts of electrons, require more care in their inclusion and often a counter-clockwise stirring, whereas elements with low overall atomic weights must be added quickly and stirred clockwise.” As Harry explained, he gestured with his free hand and leaned toward the woman. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noted that both Draco and Lucius were listening intently and the younger was actually staring, open-mouthed.

            ‘Too bad he doesn’t have a mouthful of food as well. That would be rich.’ Harry thought to himself. “I was rather shocked that magic and science could share something so fundamental.”

            “A table of elements, you say?” The woman asked. “How fascinating.”

            “I could probably procure you a copy, if you like.” He offered and Narcissa smiled eagerly. “I’ll have one sent to you. Call it an early Christmas present.”

            “How delightful.” She crooned. “Do you have any other such insights, Mr. . . eh, Harry?”

           By now their salads and soup courses had been served and removed and a plate of several foods that Harry didn’t recognize appeared. He studied them carefully as he spoke. “None I can think of, Ma’am. Unless you’d like to hear about the similarities in potion making and English puddings.”

           Suddenly, as if by sheer force of will, Harry recognized two of the dishes before him. He’d never had them but his reference to his Aunt Petunia’s cooking had conjured to mind a few of her attempts at dinner parties. Now, the brioche and Mont d’Or were nothing like the goop and blob that she’d managed, but he saw them as what she’d aimed for. The last item, a smooth looking mousse in a tiny bowl to the side, near three wafers of toast, he was certain must be Pate de Foie Gras.

           When he chose his next fork, he noted that Lucius had begun to speak and turned his attention that way. “Most do not serve the pate with the main course, but the children are so fond of it that, any time they are home, we indulge them. This particular blend is Draco’s favorite. Do try it, Mr. Potter.” He coaxed.

           Harry lifted a small knife and one of the pieces of toast and smeared a bit of the paste onto one corner. As he lifted it to his lips, he saw that Draco was waiting in anticipation of his response. He would not disappoint.

           The flavor was musky and wild, a small amount bitter, but not exceedingly so. It coated his mouth in a sensation of elegance and adventure, a vastly varied experience.

           He smiled and Draco released a held breath.

           While Harry talked shop with his mother, Draco had been searching for signs that the Chameleonis was enticing him with his pheromones. By the time the main course was served, Draco was beginning to wonder if Harry was more interested in one, or the other, of his parents.

           For some reason, he suddenly became hyper-aware that Fleur would have added another dimension to the table banter and he would have probably been excluded completely. And not by his own choice, as was the case tonight.

           The comments he’d thrown to the table had been only enough to keep Lucius from cornering him later about being rude by exclusion. His level of sarcasm was just below that which could be considered derision. Worst for the blond, Harry had been proving himself less inept and foolish with each word. His ideas about Potion Theory and the elements were not revolutionary but Harry put a spin on it that Draco had never heard even though his mother revolved in social circles that included revolutionary potions masters.

           As the main course was served, Draco found himself striving forward to see how the Gryffindor would react to the palette before him. Their family was unusual in their culinary tastes and most of their guests had very interesting reactions.

           Harry did not disappoint.

           Draco watched the look of curiosity blossom across the other teen’s face, morphing into true ecstasy. His mouth watered to see that look again.

           The weekend passed quickly, never becoming as uncomfortable as Harry had expected. Draco was aloof, standing a distance away from him whenever they were forced to spend time in each other’s company.

           Harry had become blasé about the blond, not rising to his taunts, nor trying to invoke any other responses from him. It was as if they were both just waiting for the days to end. This was why he was taken by surprise when Draco asked him a very personal question.

           “Do you fancy my mother, Potter?”

           “What? What a thing to ask. No!” Harry blurted out, his rage building unbidden. He wasn’t sure what made him so mad, but something in him wanted Draco to know that he had no reason to believe this.

           “You spend a lot of energy on pleasing her. I just wondered if she were what you were looking for in a mate. I don’t know you well enough to think otherwise. Mind you, it’s not that I mind, but my father would likely object.” Draco’s voice was not teasing or taunting, and the bland quality of it disturbed Harry more than the words.

           “What is it you’re trying to say, Malfoy?” Harry pressed, walking the distance that separated them. Draco was too close to a wall to move away from him and so he stood his ground. “I’m not trying to break up your family, and I didn’t come here by choice in the first place. This is something your father set up, so don’t get all pissy about it.”

           “Of course, I’d forgotten. You’re too good for my family, O’ Chosen One!” Draco spat.

           “Don’t ever call me that again!” Harry growled out, feeling something like claws crawl out of his fingers. “I have a growing respect for your mother, and your father, especially after what he did to end the reign of Voldemort. I don’t consider myself above them, and never will, so remember that, Malfoy!” By now, Harry stood directly in Draco’s personal space and his fingers twitched to pin the Slytherin to the wall behind him.

           “My father is more than you can imagine, Potter. You know nothing. As for his defection, well there are details there that are beyond you, as well.” Draco drawled feeling more secure that he’d returned them to familiar territory. “So, if you don’t want this, why are you here, really?”

           Harry backed up, looking around at the furnishings and taking a deep breath. His shoulders felt stiff and his legs ached from holding him up on the ground. “I came to see if we could bury this animosity that we’ve carried since first year. It was stupid, childish and it should have been outgrown years ago.” He admitted.

           Draco scowled but nodded. “That’s reasonable. So, friends?” he asked.

           Harry turned back and smiled wryly, “Possibly, someday. Do you really believe we could go that far?” he asked.

           Draco returned his look with one of self-assurance. “There’s only one way to find out.” He said and thrust his hand out. “How do you do, Harry Potter? I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

           Harry looked from Draco’s face to his hand and back again. His fingers still twitched, but the feeling was a receding one, so he lifted his hand and reached out, grasping Draco’s with a strong grip and shaking his hand firmly. He smiled and it was returned by a look that filled him with curiosity.

           Draco looked pleased, refreshed and radiant. His whole demeanor bloomed into that of the Slytherin Prince that Harry had seen interacting with the others of his class and always regretted missing out on.

           His hand, still held by Harry’s was cool and moist, soft and pleasant to him, and that feeling of his back stretching made him flinch. He almost felt as if he were about to sprout another pair of arms, just so he could reach out and hug the blond with both sets.

           He pulled away, dropping Draco’s hand, but not before the blond noted the extended tips of his fingernails. Draco’s smile turned lecherous.

           Harry backed up and walked around the area, surveying the paintings on the walls and wondering why he’d reacted that way. Draco was talking again, about the manor and the various enchantments. Tomorrow, he’d return to Hogwarts and not have to think about taking a mate for another month, when he’d have to return to the Malfoy home and be thrust into this atmosphere, once again.

*****

           Several days after his return to the school, events changed his outlook on the whole idea of taking mates. One cool winter’s day, Harry trudged down the path to Hagrid’s hut, his mind a whirl on the message he’d received.

“Hagrid has Blaise, so that no one will be injured. He has asked to see you.”

It was written in the same precise calligraphy that he recognized from the notes on his potion’s essays in his early school years.

            Professor Severus Snape.

            Harry knew what this was about and he was ready, his mind set to negotiate with a fully turned Chimaera, if need be. He knew how he felt about the dark boy and he wasn’t blind to the desire that sprung from his Chameleonis side.

            His skin had broken out in irritating scaly plates all the way from the common room.

            It surprised him that Dumbledore might condone his first mating, possibly because this should settle down a potentially dangerous atmosphere, but Harry thought it more likely that the headmaster would be looking for positive proof that Harry was heir to his status.

            As he came into view of the hut, Hagrid emerged and gestured toward the tree line. “In the clearing, Harry.” The half-giant called and the boy-who-lived changed his trajectory.

            The foliage was still dormant, so the passage was easy and Harry made quick time. He reached the clearing and stepped out of the trees. Blaise stood in the middle of a field of trampled snow, his back to Harry and his head bent toward the ground. He was stark naked except for a pair of boots and a piece of thick hyde wrapped around his hips. He looked up and turned his head when Harry arrived, then pivoted and stood facing the other wizard.

            Harry noted that the snake tail came out around Blaise’s thigh after the move.

            “I got your message. What did you need me for?” Harry called as he took a few strides forward.

            “I wanted to be sure that you understood completely. It wasn’t the potion!” Blaise stated marching up to meet him. His tail hissed the end of his sentences like a parseltongue echo and Harry smiled at it.

            “It wasn’t?” Harry deliberately misunderstood him.

            “No! The potion only affected me physically.” Blaise continued, his tail managing a few more words.

            “The potion was intended to affect you, and the others, physically.” Harry paraphrased.

            Blaise stalked back and forth in front of him. “So, as long as you know that. The rest was me. It was me and it started before.” He stopped and looked up at Harry. “We made that potion together, and we talked.”

            “Yes, we talked.” Harry agreed.

            “That was it. You weren’t like everyone thought. You weren’t just some Gryffindor Hero. The chosen one! You could be devious, sarcastic, humorous, insightful, boastful and humble.   You didn’t fit the mold they had all tried to force on you. That’s what I found in you.” Blaise’s eyes were lit by the fire of his conviction and Harry was sure he’d seen smoke rising from his ears.

            “You found all of that from an hour of working together and ten minutes of talking after?”

            “That and more. Did you learn nothing about me that day?” Blaise looked hopeful.

            Harry smirked. “I did. I learned that you are braver than people believe and that your thirst for knowledge is not limited, and subject to expansion by opportunity. You are open-minded and not judgmental, making me wonder how you ended up in Slytherin.”

            “I’ll tell you, if you really want to know.” Blaise said with a smirk. Harry tilted his head and nodded. “I begged the hat not to put me in Gryffindor. I almost ended up on the fighting team, there.”

            “And that would have been so bad?” Harry asked.

            “Could get you killed, one way or another. I may not have wanted Voldemort to win, but I had relatives that were all for him. And my relatives were dangerous, too. So, I stayed neutral, and prayed you could win, pull off a miracle. Injecting little helps when I could do it unnoticed.” At this, Blaise smiled crookedly, holding his stance.

            Harry laughed outright. “How can I judge you on that? I did the same thing, for a worse reason. Ron told me that all of the dark wizards in history had been Slytherins, and I believed him. I asked not to be put in there, and then started lumping all of you into the stereotype of the bad guys.”

            Blaise looked surprised and Harry laughed even harder. The dark young man shook his head and looked away. “Another fact that just adds confirmation. I’ve been falling for you ever since, Harry James Potter, and falling hard.”

            The laughter stopped and Harry’s face was a solid mask of seriousness. “I won’t take a mate, and begin a child, while still in school.” He stated.

            Blaise nodded and said. “Fair enough, Harry. I’d actually like to come to an agreement on that anyway. I said I’ve fallen for you, but not for a Chameleonis. This form. . .” he gestured to his body, “that I take. I don’t really know that I want to pass it on.” He admitted. “It’s not like some romantic, sexy inheritance. It’s brutal and harsh. Dangerous.” He looked away and Harry moved closer. Close enough to take his chin in hand and bring his face back.

            “Show me.” The Chosen One said softly, compelling acceptance with only his eyes.

            Blaise reared up and pulled away, his huge paws hitting the ground with a soft muffled thud that rocked the Earth. He shook himself and his mane fluffed out around a narrow face and head, horns protruding forward and curling back. The snake’s fangs showed where it hovered above those horns and Harry knew it had to have doubled in size. He reached out and ran his fingers through the fluff of black fur that formed Blaise’s goat features, closing them and pulling himself closer. He pushed the other’s muzzle to the side, stepping close to the nearest ear and whispered, “Show me the fire, now.”

            Blaise roared and raised his head, releasing a stream of flame that could have burned a tree from the top down, if he were closer. Harry sighed and wrapped his arms around the neck of the Chimaera and pressed his face into the soft black mane. “Come back, now.” He begged.

            Standing in front of him, Blaise found himself held close by the Golden Boy’s arms, pulled into an intimate embrace, his lips so close to Harry’s that a kiss should be the only possible next move. They pulled apart and Harry entwined his fingers in the short black curls below Blaise’s ears. He pressed their foreheads together as the dark boy held to his hips. “I think you’re beautiful." Harry said.

            A choked sob responded and Harry took the other’s lips in a kiss. He kissed him quickly, moving on to kiss away the tears that had escaped Blaise’s eyes. The darker man whimpered, as Harry thrust his tongue into a welcoming mouth and dug his fingers into the scalp at hand.

            When scrabbling hands clutched at Harry’s cloak and tongues worked to map out the others’ oral cavities, bodies pressed together and rutting wantonly, the next step was obvious. Blaise pulled his face back and Harry dropped his lips to the dark flesh on the now exposed neck, nipping and licking there. “Ahh, Potter! How can you want this?” the Slytherin said.

            Harry sucked determinedly at a patch of skin, wondering idly what color his mark would be. He released it and kissed it in apology before he spoke, his voice hushed and raspy with arousal. “I prize honesty and self-confidence.” He moved down to taste along the length of collar bone, “and the issue of children is best left for the future.”

            “I know about Chameleoni, Harry. My mother explained. You will have other mates, other chances for children. I understand.” Blaise’s voice was bland and Harry pulled back to see him better. Green eyes searched the depths of chocolate brown.

            “You don’t know that.” He said.

            “I know. I know that Finnigan is all over you. I know that you spent the weekend with Malfoy.” Blaise huffed and Harry smiled.

            “Jealous, already?” he asked with that smile. “How does this reassure me?”

            Blaise looked away with those eyes, his fingers digging deep into Harry’s robes. “Not Jealousy. Insecurity.”

            “Ohh?” Harry said releasing the dark man to unclasp his robe and pull it free. Blaise stepped back and Harry draped the clothes from the stump of a nearby fallen tree. “I think I know how to boost that.” Harry said yanking off his tie and pulling his jumper over his head. Blaise’s eyes flew open wide as the shirt below came open and Harry pulled it off. Harry shivered and looked at him with a sly smirk. “How do you take this cold?” The Chosen One asked.

            “Probably the fur,” Blaise responded looking down. He flushed with blood when he realized that he had been naked since he’d changed back.

            Harry nodded and looked him over as he unbuckled his belt. “I’ll be looking forward to that,” he said then dropped his pants and stepped out of them and his shoes. His feet crunched on the remaining snow when he had hung up the rest of his clothes and stepped back to look at towards the Slytherin. “I’m looking forward to something else, too. Have you ever . . .”

            Blaise shifted once, from foot to foot and his eyes drifted away. “Once, in human form, never in the other, of course.”

            Harry took his hand and led him into the center of the field. “I meant like this. I’ve been with one girl and one boy, over the summer. It was awkward and uncomfortable, both times. She only wanted to be with The Chosen One and he just needed some stress relief.” Harry looked ashamed and Blaise felt a reason to reassure him.

            “I had a similar experience. Teenage hormones and all that. It was messy and hurried and not all that memorable.” He admitted.

            Harry hated remembering Lavender and Dean, and wanted to move on. He smiled at the Slytherin and said, “I doubt this will be any of those.” He put his hand on Blaise’s hips and pulled their bodies together. He allowed Blaise the freedom to resist as he leaned forward to join their mouths in a passion filled kiss that the dark-skinned wizard shared, eagerly. When he drew back, he spoke only two words, “Relatio Interuptum,” before diving in for a second helping, while Blaise’s arms wrapped securely around his neck and shoulders. The kiss lasted so long, with sloppy shifting and heated attempts to get closer, more intimate, that eventually they had to break apart.

            Blaise was out of breath and Harry allowed him time, though his hands kept straying to explore new parts of his lover’s anatomy. Fully aroused and rutting together, they silently agreed to take it a step further. “Any hints how this will work best?” Harry asked as his one hand cupped Blaise’s left bum cheek, while his other fingers seemed to be counting the dark man’s ribs.

Blaise smirked, his fingers tangled in Harry’s unruly hair. “Just don’t let the tail think it’s the boss.”

            Harry’s head pulled back to regard his soon-to-be first mate and decipher the man’s cryptic statement. He could feel the flesh in his hands beginning to change and he reluctantly let go.

            There was no doubt in his mind that Blaise was a good choice for a mate. The man was strong, something he’d determined he would need, and his politics were sound, if a little non-committal, but no matter what Blaise said, bravery was not his problem. So, Harry had already decided his course of action and all that was left was the actual choreography of this dance. As he watched Blaise transform for the second time, his awe was revived. “So beautiful,” he whispered.

            The Chimaera stood tamely before him but his tail had risen in challenge and it hissed at him from above the goat’s horns. Harry felt his body flexing and forming, stretching out and extending. His backbone grew out and swirled behind him as his shoulders bulked up and became so heavy that he was forced to stand on all four paws.

            Suddenly, Harry was hyper aware of a new consciousness joining his and it was raw and uninhibited. He knew that he’d have to tame it before he could proceed and the arousing sensations he was getting from the creature in front of him was so distracting that he could possibly fail in the endeavor.

            He struggled with the thoughts in his mind, cowing them and forcing them into submission. His will took rule over his parts and the hissing tail became subservient. He looked back at the growling, bleating beast that stood before him in all of its beauty. He called to it and pranced a bit to gain its attention. It watched him silently, standing still but for the sinuous and threatening moves of its tail.

            Harry stepped forward, annoyed by the challenge issued by the snake opposite. He pawed the ground and bleated out, letting his own tail send out a response. The magnificent creature dropped closer to the ground, showing outward acceptance of his suit, but the tail stood tall, baring fangs and swaying in readiness.

            This angered Harry and gave him the desire to more than mount his chosen mate. He wanted to dominate and control this beast, hold it down and force it to yield. Quick as a raven, Harry bolted forward, knocking the smaller Chimaera to its belly and straddling it. His teeth closed on its throat, not breaking the flesh, even as the fangs of his tail captured the head of the other’s and held it aside. The beast below him let out a piteous cry, piercing the drone of nearby insects into silence. Harry held him still, relentless.

            They held for some time, Harry’s teeth against the soft fur of the other’s mane, but soon the other shifted below him. As Harry held his front end still, Blaise began to shift his rear, moving like he would hump the ground in search of release. This brought a reaction from the larger of the two, and Harry felt the swell of his member, where their bodies met. His instincts took over and he thrust against Blaise’s flank.

            Blaise froze beneath him, his body tense and his rump held higher than his shoulders. There was an air of anticipation about them but Harry did not hesitate. He reared back and thrust forward, driving deep into his new mate’s body. Blaise released a piteous howl and Harry stilled, letting go of his mate’s neck and licking the tears that had begun to fall down his Blaise’s face. The only movement between them was the thrashing of Blaise’s tail and the answering moves that Harry’s appendage made to keep it captured.

            After what seemed a terrible long time, and Harry’s body striving to move and gain release, the clenching body around his organ driving him crazy with need, Blaise shifted his hind legs, clawing the ground and growling deep in his throat. He relaxed his front paws, letting his shoulders mold more compatibly under Harry’s chest and turning his face to butt against Harry’s chin. A needy bleat came to Harry’s ears and the bigger Chimaera began to pull out of his mate.

            He stopped before exiting fully, reversing his drive and returning home, where his body longed to be. A rush of arousal flowed through his limbs and returned two fold. Harry could do nothing but speed up and increase that feeling as he strove to reach his climax.

            Blaise had been shocked by the pain of being breeched, but it was quickly turned to a feeling of fulfillment, of a missing piece being returned, albeit violently, but once reconnected, it could now not be removed. Blasé was completed and all that was left was to finish the act and gain the full enjoyment of his mate.

            The shifting of the organ in him caused the fire of desire to burn in Blaise’s guts and he wanted more. He shifted along with Harry, pushing up on the down thrusts, driving Harry’s cock deeper and harder into his body, stimulating him in more and better ways. And Harry was enjoying it as well, if his reactions were any indication. He was growling pleasantly and grunting along with particularly powerful thrusts.

            It was these sounds that brought Blaise to the brink, erotic to his senses like the murky smell of musk and Harry’s breath beside his face. His climax was explosive and simultaneously his throat issued forth a blast of fire that scorched not only the ground nearby, but four stumps of trees that were half-way across the clearing. The snow melted and evaporated into the dry ground nearby, leaving it clear and heated, like a patch of shoreline in the summertime. Harry joined him seconds later, thrusting three times slowly as he bore down and sprayed Blaise’s insides with his fluids. His own fire was less ferocious, possibly due to the intensity of his activities, and only served to warm the already heated ground a few degrees. He fell onto his mate, rolling them over and clutching Blaise close.

           They lay there for a bit, as they realized they had returned to human form, holding tight and gathering their raged breathing under control. Harry watched Blaise’s face, determining if the Slytherin was regretting the decisions, but he found only acceptance, and a wary bit of concern there. “I don’t regret this, Blaise. I hope you won’t either.” Harry told him, and Blaise smiled.

           “Not any of it. Now what do we do?” the dark boy asked.

           “I think that we should relax, enjoy the afterglow and worry about the rest later.” Harry said pulling the other closer and resting his chin on Blaise’s head, cuddling the boy closer and sighing contentedly.

*****

           Susan Bones was so happy to be out of hospital that she let her normally quiet mask slip and smiled at her classmates more than usual. Her first day in class, she produced a stunning transformation of a paperclip into a brass cauldron after brewing a perfect calming draught in potions class. Professor McGonagall had praised her work loudly, startling her and drawing her to the attention of the entire mixed class of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

           Susan had sunk into her chair and refused to look up for several minutes. That was only the beginning of her mistakes. She had accidently banished a hinkypink in Defense class, when she was only trying to make it shy away from her and bother another student, and she had raised her hand, something she never did, to answer Professor Binns’ question about the history of the Patronus Charm.

            On the fourth day after being released, she had unwittingly cast an imobulus spell that had caught a valuable crystal goblet in mid fall from the shelf behind Professor Snape and the entire classroom had turned to stare at her.

          “Very well done, Miss Bones. I hadn’t realized how quick witted you were. If you have completed your potions, please bring them up to my desk. Mr. Boot, could you please put the goblet back where it was before you bashed my bookshelves?” Snape had said, his eyes never leaving Susan. She swallowed as she handed the vial to her potions partner, Ernie MacMillan.

          The stress of these occurrences was what sent Susan in search of the Prefect’s bathroom, and caused her to accidentally choose the boy’s room instead of the one for her own sex. She was stripping off her clothes, her back to the already full tub, and humming softly a song her mother had taught her. Under the water the sound would transform into the sounds of her blood-race. She did not realize that she was not alone, though the very fact that the water was already in the pool should have given her a clue. The water’s surface rippled slightly just before she turned around and stepped up to the edge.

           As Susan dove into the water, another’s head rose to the surface, shaking the drops from his head and whipping his face. Harry watched a sleek creature hit the surface, sliding into the water without so much as a splash, and he wondered who had invaded his illicit bath. He didn’t recognize the person, as it was dark and their body looked to be covered with soft brown fur. Harry had lost the ability to be startled by such things after his last three visits with Blaise at Hagrid’s hug. The half-giant had managed to be otherwise occupied and they’d the place to themselves. Even Fang was gone.

           Now, as he watched the rise and fall of the water, small waves that were all that was left of the intruder, Harry wondered what Blaise was up to. He was here to decide if he should visit the dark slytherin or if he was ready to deal with the small Irish faun that was dogging his steps of late.

           The surface broke and the head of a cocoa brown seal stared at him.

           “Hello.” Harry said tilting his head to see into the seal’s eye. “You must be creature, because I haven’t heard any rumors of someone learning to be an animagus. Do I know you?”

           The seal lowered into the water, sinking under so slowly that the water didn’t even stir. After a second, Susan Bones rose to the surface and looked at him coyly. “I thought this was the girl’s bath. I’m sorry for disturbing your bathing. I’ll just go, if you will look away while I dress.”

           “Suit yourself.” Harry said with a grin. “You can stay if you like. I’m not shy and in your seal form, there’s nothing that you should be ashamed of. Not that you should be ashamed of your human form, either.”

           Susan blushed and looked around. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?” she asked.

           “Me? No. I can keep your secret, unless Snape has a go at me with legilimens. I’m rubbish at occlumency. Always have been.” He swore.

           “But, it’s required. You have to report me, now that you’ve seen me.” She verified.

           “Yeah, and they had to report me, and now I’m being harassed by people I’m not interested in seeing. Especially certain Slytherins. Plus, I have to make time in my schedule for trips away from school, when I should be working on my schoolwork. Why would I want to mess up your life, like that?”

           “I doubt that those things would be my problems. I’d be taken into protective custody and kept at the Dept of Mysteries until I shriveled up and died of old age. Thank you, Harry Potter.” Susan smiled and Harry beamed back.

            “Just Harry, okay. So, a Selkie, huh? Sounds real cool. I bet you’re a great swimmer.” Harry changed the subject, just slightly. Susan was thrilled.

           “Swimming and diving. Watch this.” She said dipping back into the water and circling the pool. When she rose again, in Selkie form, she flew up five feet above the surface and returned with a triple spin and a gentle dive that left him breathless.

           They swam together for twenty minutes before Harry’s skin was pruning and he climbed out. He was wrapped in a towel, sitting on the side for the rest of her swim, and when she finally crawled out, he turned away and waited as she dried off and pulled on a bath robe.

           They stayed there, talking about their creature inheritances and the struggles to keep them private for the better part of the evening, and Harry walked her back to the Hufflepuff dorms under the cover of his invisibility cloak when they discovered how late it was. Though Susan was a Hufflepuff Prefect, it would still have been bad for her to be seen slipping out of the bathroom so late, in the company of a boy.

           Harry had learned a great deal about her in the time they’d spent together, and about Selkies in general, too. He discovered that they were less rare than believed, numbering in the thousands, but kept secret by their intricate code of actions that included being introverted and not showing off their true powers. Susan’s aunt had died rather than show that she was as powerful as she was when confronted by death eaters. If she’d given her secret away, her whole family might have been in danger.

           Susan was the daughter of a Selkie and a naiad, proving that the book had a few things right, and reason she displayed Selkie was because they were only females. Her brother had been born a naiad and had graduated the year before they had started at Hogwarts. He was a Ravenclaw and had teased her when she had been sorted in Hufflepuff. Harry thought that the hat could have put her in either, as she was quite bright, and told her so.

           “Just don’t share that piece of information with anyone,” she returned, “They think I’m mediocre, and I prefer it that way. I was shocked when I was made a prefect.”

           “Nonsense,” Harry argued. “You get good grades and you never mess up a spell or potion. I’ve heard Professors Snape, McGonagal and Flitwick talking about you. They think you’re the pants.”

           “When?” she asked.

            “Oh, I was sneaking around one night and happened upon an impromptu teacher’s meeting in the kitchens. I think it was an excuse to raid the stores. They were seated around a table with wine and cheese and fruit, discussing the skills of several students and how they should go about bringing them to their full power. I was never mentioned, but you and Nott and Eloise Midgen were all brought up.”

           “Well, that makes sense. Nott is a Naiad as well, a cousin of mine. And Eloise is a Fideal. They don’t really like to advertise themselves, either.” She told him.

           “A Fideal? What is that? I don’t think I’ve read about them.” Harry asked.

           “A Fideal is a water demon. They are thought to live in a Scottish Loch and steal away women and children for their meals. It’s not true, of course. Eloise isn’t even from Scotland. She’s from Surrey.”

           “Really. I live in Surrey, too.” And the conversation took another turn that led to some pleasant things, none of which included the Dursleys.

           After dropping her off at her dorm, Harry had slipped into his own, and stripped out of his clothing. He cast a quick spell or two and tip-toed across the sleeping area and inside of the dark red curtains around the bed. He'd made a decision and it seemed a good time to take action on it.

           “Harry?” a soft sleepy voice said and Harry smiled.

           “Hello, Shea. I wanted to talk to you – about our future.” He said with a smirk.

AN2: Wow, over 7,000 words. I'm getting long-winded
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