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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
- 15
- 16
- 17
AN:Here’s a chapter to celebrate the coming of finals. Sorry, got to go pass a few tests before I can post more.

Unneeded: I think that the creature influence may have been what drove the pure-blood fever. Think about it this way- they would try to produce more creatures, so had to keep the blood ties with other “pure” creatures. In the case of the Weasleys, they had to hide it, so ended up trying to mix it with muggles, and that would have lost the line. Pure is better, right?

SilverLion: I believe I said that Cedric was in there. Kept him alive for a reason, I did.

JC: Cedric is a yummy little pet. I’ve already done his book description, I’ll give you a hint, it might be in the chapter where he first showed up. Give me a little time, cause I have a few others to get into, especially that Peryton from last chapter. She’s got a big scene coming up.

Jujukitty: once again, your wish is my command. Here’s some twins; Olli and Cedric – next chap.

Chrissy: Welcome.

Hazel: A month! Holy Shit! Okay, so that’s the best excuse I can think of for not reviewing. You’re forgiven. My favorite Pern stories were Dolphins of Pern and Dragon Kin (which was written by Anne’s son, Todd) Hope this fills the bill.

Chapter Fifteen: Two at a time?

Phoenicia

The Phoenix has a 500 to 1000 year life-cycle, near the end of which it builds itself a nest of twigs that then ignites; both nest and bird burn fiercely and are reduced to ashes, from which a new, young phoenix or phoenix egg arises, reborn anew to live again. The new phoenix is destined to live as long as its old self. In some stories, the new phoenix embalms the ashes of its old self in an egg made of myrrh and deposits it in the Egyptian city of Heliopolis (literally "sun-city" in Greek). It is said that the bird's cry is that of a beautiful song. The Phoenix's ability to be reborn from its own ashes implies that it is immortal, though in some stories the new Phoenix is merely the offspring of the older one. In very few stories they are able to change into people.

The Firebird is described as a large bird with majestic plumage that glows brightly emitting red, orange, and yellow light, like a bonfire that is just past the turbulent flame. The feathers do not cease glowing if removed, and one feather can light a large room if not concealed. In later iconography, the form of the Firebird is usually that of a smallish fire-colored peacock, complete with a crest on its head and tail feathers with glowing "eyes".

All of these are lovely myths, but few facts can be pulled from them. In actually accounting, a Phoenix can be born only one of five ways. It can be the product of closely related, or Phoenicius cross pairs, so one Phoenicia can breed with another and possibly reproduce a pair of young Phoenicia. The Phoenicia can mate with one of four other crosses and produce a pure pair of young. These are some of the rarest beings, as all of their related mates are equally rare. The first and most potent mate would be the Chameleonis, the second a Faerie/demon breed with the strongest heritage, the third would be a Unicorn, and only one of the purest of these can produce a true pair of young. The last and rarest mating is between a Pheonicia and a Veela. This pairing can only be said to work, and has never been proved, as Veela wings are fragile and the only mating this author has witnessed had tragic consequences. The flight ended in a ball of fiend-fyre, brought about by the mixture of Phoenix wings and Veela magic.

           As Fred and George led him through the hall, Harry was considering possibilities. “So, if you show us yours, we’ll show you ours,” they teased as they stopped and grinned. They had reached a study room that was used by seventh years, by appointment. It was empty. The three young men entered and Harry stood by the door.

           “As attractive as that sounds,” Harry began, “I have nothing to share.”

           “What do you think, Fred?”

           “I don’t believe it.”

           George leaned against the back of a chair and regarded the younger Gryffindor. His eyes rode up and down Harry’s body with a lewd leer. “If that was true, we wouldn’t be wanting to drag you into one of the dorms and do naughty things to you.”

           Harry’s eyebrows flew into his fringe and he looked over at Fred. “You feel this way, too?” he asked.

           “That’s a given.” Fred said with a smile. “So, what do you say, Harry?”

           “Yea, let’s talk about exactly what this means.” George added. “To start, Percy owled us to come to Hogwarts.”

           “Says that there’s something here that could offer us the thing that would solve our biggest problem.” Fred continued.

           “Now, Percy is the only one that knows for sure about Fred and me.”

           “Other than Mum and Dad and Aunt Tessie.”

           “So, that cryptic message can only mean this has to do with . . . our inheritance.” George whispered the last two words in a lusty tone that made Harry’s blood thrum.

           “What inheritance is that?” he asked.

           “Uh, uh. Can’t say it out loud.” Fred answered, but George leaned closer.

           “Too dangerous.” George said looking around. “We’ve been guarding this for five years, Harry.”

           “Okay, so I’m guessing it’s creature related.” Harry tried and the twins nodded. “And it must be rare, probably protected?” he continued and received another affirmative response. “And, you think I can help you, but you don’t know why?”

           “We’ve read up.” George snipped,

           “They’re only four possibilities,” Fred offered. “Either you’re the same as us, or a Veela, Unicorn or Fideal.” He listed off.

           “Five,” Harry corrected. “You left out Chameleonis.” The twins stared, open-mouthed, as Harry smirked at their reaction. “So, are you ready to tell me, or do we play twenty questions?”

*****

            “I’m not really into family picnics, Black.” Snape growled as he picked up the basket and followed the man to the door. Sirius smirked, handed the potion’s master a strip of leather and chuckled for a second, and then he dropped to the floor and was looking up with those annoying puppy-dog eyes, literally. “So, this is one of those kinds of picnics. Did you at least pack one of those stupid plastic disks for the boy to throw about?”

            Sirius barked happily and spun around before Snape could attach the leash and collar to him. They hurried to the door and were soon rushing down the path from the front of the Spinner’s end house and trotting down the street toward the woods. Padfoot stopped when they caught sight of Remus and Terry, as well as Tonks, with a beautiful black French Poodle on a similar lead. The animagus barked excitedly and dragged the potions professor forward.

            “Snape.” Remus said when they were a few feet away.

            “Lupin.” Severus responded. The dogs were weaving around Terry, who had grabbed the poodle’s leash and was reaching for Sirius’ “Careful, Mr. Boot. He’s a bit of a handful. Don’t hurt the boy, Padfoot.”

            “Yeah, easy there, boy. Don’t damage my son. Go on, Terry. I’ll be right behind you. Let them run.” Remus said and the dogs took off toward the trees, Terry in tow. Remus ran behind and Snape sputtered from where he’d been left standing.

            “It’s safe. I won’t bite your head off. I promise.” Tonks said shyly. She stood her ground as Snape turned to face her. “Sorry, about my reaction the other day.”

            “That was weeks ago, Dora. I understood, you know.” He said. “It was not the best presentation of the facts. I was never very good at that.”

            “Yes you were. I remember you, Professor. Eh, Dad?” she said with a grimace.

            “Severus, would be fine. I don’t think I could answer to the other, after so many years.” He told her.

            “Well, I still remember. You were a snarky instructor, but you still managed to drive the lesson through the thickest of skulls. I even had a bit of a crush on you, at one time. Weird, huh?”

            “Incredibly uncomfortable, actually.” He said with a grimace and a laugh.

            “We better start to follow. Those two are going to be hungry. I’ve heard that animagi forms are hard enough without running full out to boot. Terry was thrilled at the chance. Seems, he’s always wanted a dog, but his mum, er Aunt Lettie, didn’t think it was a good idea, what with the family being what it was. Too much chance at the poor thing being killed by a rival alpha dropping by.”

            “That was . . . Parkinson?” Severus stammered and Tonks laughed.

            “Pansy, Patsy. Yes. She was just as excited, I hear. A chance to spend a day with her dad can’t be passed up. She and the Parkinsons had some other business recently that left her feeling a bit out of sorts. She was home for a few days and came back begging Remus to call Sirius.” Tonks shivered then, and Severus put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, I just can’t help but worry about what had her so upset. Neither she or Sirius will talk about it to us.”

            “Pure-blood families have a lot of secrets. It was likely something of that nature. Even though he is a reformed-blue blood, Black will always be a Black.” Severus removed his hand and noticed it felt cold when he was not in contact with the girl. He sighed and shifted the basket into his other hand to keep from thinking about it. Tonks smiled and thread her hand through his elbow, forcing him to hold the basket in front of him with both hands to keep his arm bent properly. She didn’t lean in, but didn’t pull away either.

            “So, how did you manage, if you weren’t pure-blooded, either? I mean, I guess I’m a product of magical adaption, Chameleonis and all. But, your father was a muggle.” Tonks broached the subject that had claimed her interest of late and Severus took a deep breath.

            “Not my father.” He said with a long sigh. “He’s not. My mother was already carrying me when she married him. He thinks he is, but she told me before she died. Mother was raped by a student, who she didn’t recognize. Surprise!”

            “Another Morphagus?” she asked.

            “Most likely. He wore Hufflepuff clothes, but that could have been a ruse. She didn’t know the possibility until I was five. She just thought it was something in her diet that had given her a green haired baby.” Tonks laughed heartily then, and Severus smiled at her.

            “Could you do it again, what you did that day? Show me the real you, please.” She begged and he closed his eyes and let down his assumed cover. The dark hair faded and the grey streaks returned. His face became more soft angles and a few creases, but lost its sallow tone and turned more rosy and golden.

            “That’s the look of a Dad, you know. If you’d looked like that in school, all of the girls would have had the same crush that I had. Why do you do it?” she asked.

            “Originally, it was to hide my ability to change, but later I felt a need to punish myself. My choices were not something I was proud of. The Dark Lord, James, you, the business about the prophesy, and then turning traitor. I’m a bad man, and I know it. Best to look the part, I think.”

            “You think you’re a bad man? Why? You saved Harry. Remus told me. He told me how you tried to face him when he hadn’t taken his potion, even after that business in school, and just to keep the kids safe. You had to spend so much time in danger, with the Death Eaters, and Voldemort, so that the Order would have the information it needed to defeat him. That took courage. Gryffindor courage, Slytherin cunning and Hufflepuff loyalty. And based on your knowledge of Potions, Dark Arts, spells and charms, I venture to say there’s some Ravenclaw in you, as well.”

            “Hush, girl! If you were younger I’d turn you over my knee for even suggesting such a thing. Merlin!” Severus had a difficult time keeping the smile from his lips and if they hadn’t arrived at the glade in the middle of the local version of a park, he’d have likely burst into laughter.

            He felt lighter and freer than he had for years. Everything smelled fresh and clean, the air, the water, the trees, and the food tasted better than any he could remember eating. Sirius and Pansy changed back after chasing the Frisbee for a while and they collapsed on the edge of the blanket that Tonks had laid out, drinking lustily from the bottles of water that were in the magically enhanced basket, and joking about their play.

           Terry and Remus tossed the disk back and forth while Pansy chased it, and Tonks laughed and clapped her hands nearby. “Things okay, Severus?” Sirius asked from where he lounged nearby. He was watching the other man carefully, and Severus had just noticed it.

          “Fine, Black. This was a good idea. Thank you.” Severus said and Sirius smiled.

           “Nice look, Snape. The greasy git appearance was getting old, you know. I like this better.” Sirius said and Severus scowled at him.

           “It’s not for you, you poufter.” Severus grunted and Sirius laughed outright. “Shut it, Black.”

          “Nope. I’ll take what I can get. I like it even if it took you reconciling with Dora to get it. My little girl is happy and so is yours, so we can sit here being grand old dads together, and I prefer doing that with a handsome old git, rather than that other guy.” Sirius sat up and reached into the basket again, pulling out a bowl and handing it to the other man. Severus took it and looked into it. “Treacle tart. I happen to know that Harry isn’t the only one who favors them.” He said with a smile and sat back again as Snape stared at him, mouth agape.

*****

          Isabel closed the book and returned it to the shelf. She rolled her parchment and stowed it into her bag just as Hermione walked by. She called out, “Hey, Gryffindor. I wanted to ask you a question. Hermione?” she waited as Hermione stopped, sighed and returned.

          “What is it you wanted?” the Gryffindor sounded tired, and Isabel ignored that.

          “Harry’s looking tired, these days. I wondered if he’d spoken to you about it.” She asked.

          “About being tired?” Hermione asked.

          “Has Harry spoken with you about the potions accident?”

          “Wormwood’s elixir? Didn’t you think I could figure out what happened?” Hermione snapped.

          “Whether you would be able to discern which potion was made was not what I’m speaking of.” Isabel retorted.

           Hermione considered this then pulled the Ravenclaw girl over to a table. When they were seated, she leaned forward and hissed, “I know that all of the students affected were probably from lines with mixed creature blood. I’ve figured out a few, but Professor Snape held Harry back and he didn’t have to be quarantined. It’s not like the professor to make a mistake, so there must be another explanation.”

           Isabel blinked at the onslaught of words before she responded. “Have you asked him about this?”

           Hermione looked stunned. “NO!” she squealed. “How can you suggest that?”

           “He’s your friend. I would bet that he’d prefer for you to ask him, rather than investigating behind his back.” Isabel paused for a few breaths. “He won’t volunteer his secrets, but I doubt that he’d lie to you to cover them up. You are his best friend, Miss Granger. Even more so than Mr. Weasley. And he wants to understand what happened between you two, as well.”

           Hermione looked around, twitching nervously and shifting her feet under the table. Then she sighed and put her hand flat on the surface. “I’ll go talk to him. Do you know where he is right now?”

         “He went to Hogsmead with the twins. The Patil twins, that is. You should wait until he returns.” Isabel rose and left the muggleborn witch to her thoughts. She wanted to avoid any questions about her relationship with Harry, especially why she would allow him to date two other girls while allegedly with her.

          As she passed through the halls, passing portraits that whispered to each other and suits of armor that creaked with rust as they shifted to watch her, Isabel replayed her explanation in her head. ‘We aren’t really together. It’s only a ruse to cover up for who he really wants . .” Isabel stopped suddenly, a sob choked her throat and her vision fogged up with tears. She covered her mouth with her free hand and clutched her book to her chest. It took a minute to regain her composure and another to wipe the signs of her momentary lapse from her face.

         When she began her trek to Ravenclaw tower, the voice of Sir Charles of Aberdeenshire whispered to Leonard of St Matinsberg, “Love is a wretched pleasure, isn’t it?” his neighbor did not answer, only nodded sadly.

******

            From the bridge that led to the main street of Hogsmead, to the path that traveled past Hagrid’s hut, Harry was a silent and attentive companion. He listened to the stories that Padma told of the wizarding town they had grown up in and Parvarti’s descriptions of their family and friends from the same. It could have been that he was interested in their lives and wanted to get to know them, but at least part of his fascination was that they had not spoken English in the last half of an hour and he loved hearing the long strings of Parseltongue with their unique accent.

            “We know that your parents were killed, Harry. But you must have had a family.” Padma had turned and was watching him.

            “And where did you grow up?” Parvati added.

            “My home? Oh, I grew up in Surrey.” Harry stated. “I lived with my Aunt and her family.” His tone tried to encourage the drop of the subject and if it failed, his expression did not. Padma looked around at the trees.

            “Look! They’re budding.” She cried hurrying forward to pull down a mearly baren branch.

            “Isn’t it too early” Parvati rushed to ask.

            “Yes. They should be dormant for another few weeks.”

            “Is that bad?” Harry asked. He knew that Padma was nearly as interested in plants as Neville and her speciality was the larger varieties, like trees and shrubs.

            “They’ll be damaged if there’s another frost. They may even die if it is too sever and they’ve committed too much of their sap to the branches.”

            A new voice interrupted from behind a tree near them. “They’ll snap back just fine. The next frost will be mild.” A familiar looking young man stepped out and sneered at Harry and the two girls. “Which of you is it?”

            Padma reached over and pulled at Harry’s sleeve, getting his attention. He leaned down and listened as she whispered into his ear, in English. “He understood the language. He is from one of the serpent lines. Naga is only one.”

            As he considered this, and the fact that Parseltongue was reported to be so rare, Harry stepped in front of the girls.   He hissed out to the man, “I am Chameleonis. From what line are you and what is your name?”

The man moved closer, advancing with a grace and ease that was elegant and smooth. “I am Derrick, Lon Derrick, of the Hydra line. They are Naga?”

            Harry nodded and Parvati hissed defiantly. “We speak for ourselves.” She turned to her sister who had nodded back. “The Palit line is directly descended from Lamia.”

           “Ah. The child killer!” Derrick chuckled as both girls hissed. “Don’t raise your hoods at me! I know the story and I know the truths and falsehoods of it. Go and curl up in your lairs. I want to speak with the shape-shifter.” He waved them off and pointed to Harry.

           “Go on. I’ll talk to him. It’ll be alright.” Harry said.

          “We’ll see you at supper.” Parvati said as Padma turned to go. “I’ll save you a set.” And she followed her sister up the path to the greenhouse entrance. Harry turned back to glare at the Hydriad.

         “Now that your pets are gone, we can do some negotiating.”

         Faster than he’d ever moved before, Harry shoved the older boy against the trunk of the tree and held him there. He pressed close and knew that Derrick could feel his breath on the closest of his cheeks. “First off, I decide who I’ll negotiate with, and second, I don’t negotiate with anyone that’s rude to my friends. If you ever want to speak with me again, you can ask me nicely, in public place, and hope I’m feeling amenable. Do I make myself clear?” Lon nodded as best his could in the near choke hold that Harry’s hand had on his throat. “Good. Now, go back to wherever you’ve been hiding and don’t try this ever again.”

         When Harry pulled back, he noticed what looked like small snake bites on Lon’s neck, shoulder and below his right ear. The three makes faded quickly and by the time he’d begun his trek towards the castle, Lon Derrick was nowhere to be seen.

******

          Hermione was waiting for him as he entered the Great Hall, her eyes downcast and her arms crossed over her chest. She looked worried so Harry placed his hands on her shoulders and looked under her bent face to see her expression. “Bad day, Mione?”

          “Harry, I’ve been hoping we could talk.” She said.

          “Okay, after supper alright?”

          “We could go to Myrtle’s bathroom. It would be quieter and private.” She suggested.

          “Sounds fine. C’mon, let’s go eat.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the tables. True to her word, Parvati had kept space clear for him and there was room enough for Hermione as well. While they all ate, a friendly banter surrounded and included them.

           George and Fred sat across from them and the twin’s jokes kept the meal light. Harry didn’t fail to recognize the innuendos that the two were throwing his way. He hoped Blaise would be understanding, but he was determined to find out the truth about the Weasley family by the end of the night.

*****

          As she leaned against the sink that was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, Hermione scowled at her friend. “I’ve been investigating you, Harry. I’m sorry.” She blurted.

         “Woah! I thought we were going to talk about you and Ron.” Harry backtracked the conversation that had just begun.

          “We can, but first I wanted to ask you a question.” Harry nodded so she kept on. “Why did Snape hold you back in the classroom when the Wormwood’s elixir started to fume?”

          “Right to the point. That’s what I love about you, Mione. Okay, so you already know what the potion does, right?” Another nod and he continued. “I have a creature inheritance, from my father’s side, of course. I don’t display, normally. But, I was exposed and Snape wanted to be sure I wouldn’t be a threat to the others. He has some experience with my line.”

          “Snape is in the same line as you? Was he fooling around with your mother?”

          “No.” Harry blushed and Hermione glared at him. “My father. I’m from the Chameleonis line. I have the cross, because my mother was a pure-human. If I breed with another cross, without protection, I can produce any cross that there is.”

           “I’ve read about them. Is that why you’ve been courting Isabel? So that you can produce another Chameleonis?”

           Harry hadn’t even considered this, but now it was laid out before him. “Hermione, I was just trying to keep my secret. I’ve not considered any children, yet!” His face had taken on a deep blush that he could feel heating up his cheeks.

           Hermione blushed as well. “Oh, I see. Well, she’d make a good choice.” She blurted.

          “Except that her family disapproves of Creature blood. The ultimate pure-bloods.” Harry grunted. “That isn’t an option, for either of us.”

           “Oh. Okay.”

          “Now, about you and Ron?” harry coaxed.

           “Not much to tell. HE came to me, after not speaking to me for days, and says, We can’t see others. Our line needs us. Sorry, Mione. And that was that. Oh, and he had gone nuts a while back about something he read in a creature book, but when we went to the library, it was gone.”

          “Creature? But, Ron wasn’t kept in the quarantine?” Harry mused out loud.

           “No, it was about twins. Probably Fred and George. I don’t remember exactly, and without the book, I just don’t know.”

           “I’ll find out, and tell you when I do.” Harry promised and they shared a hug before heading back to the tower.

******

          The common room was darkened but the fire was still glowing with orange embers and Harry knew that it was far from deserted when he slipped down the stairs from the dorms. “He’s come, George.” Fred’s voice emanated from a far corner.

           “So he has, Fred.” Came George’s from near Harry. “But, is he brave enough to play with fire?”

           “I came to talk, but if you’re feeling like kidding around, I’ll just head back to bed.” Harry bluffed.

            “We couldn’t be more serious, Harry. Muffliato Defendus.” Fred chanted a privacy spell that would envelope the common room and cause a humming noise to affect anyone that might venture down the stairs or into the portrait.

            “Duro Enervatum. Now, that should be effective.” George finished for his brother. “Come and sit with us, Harry. We’ll be able to talk now.”

            “What was that spell, George? I’ve never heard it before.” Harry asked as he found the largest couch in front of the hearth.

             “A little something that I invented. Hardens Fred’s incantation and makes it a living and working thing. The shield around us will keep others out, and tell us if they are coming. We’ve got complete privacy.” George sat next to Harry and leaned back as if he’d been waiting for months to be allowed to relax.

             Fred stood in front of them, his silhouette a stark contrast against the burning remains of the wood. “We may get cold, so I’ll just stoke this up.” He suggested before reaching in and stirring the coals. The fire burst up and Harry shouted out in fear. “S’okay. I’m fine.”

            George smirked next to the younger Gryffindor, but Harry was still in shock. Fred had stirred the fire to life with his bare hand. “Playing with fire, Harry. We warned you.” George said with a chuckle.

          Harry jumped up and paced a bit, stopping every so often to glare at one or the other twin. Finally, he stopped and stood where Fred had been, the other twin had taken his place on the couch next to George. “What Are You?” Harry demanded.

           “Don’t seem fair to keep him in the dark, Fred.”

          “No, George. But, I had hoped he’d at least try to guess.”

          “Wait! Fire. Rare. Twins. Red-hair.” Harry listed as he raised his fingers one at a time. “You two are . . . Phoenix?”

          “We prefer the name Pheonicia, but in a nut shell, yep.” George said, his smirk still in place.

           “Wow.” Harry blurted. “I mean, that’s just amazing.”

          “Not to us. We’ve known since birth. You’re just surprised because it’s new.” Fred suggested.

          “Birth? How can you know anything at birth?” Harry asked.

          “Takes a lot of extra brain cells.” George suggested.

          “Harry, there’s a reason that Phoenicia are only twins. Well, that we only display as twins.” Fred tried.

           “Actually, that’s a good way to put it Fred.” George suggested. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

           “You just did, George.” Harry was still sputtering in front of them and they had reverted to their personal banter. “Better explain.” Fred continued looking back at his green-eyed friend. “We aren’t really twins, Harry. We are one being, split in the womb. Sort of like twins, only we share consciousness. Most twins separate and then stay apart. We can join, or stay split, but we feel everything each other feels, think the same thoughts, hear the same sounds and smell the same scents.”

            “That . . . .that explains a lot.” Harry muttered. He looked down at them and they rose to stand before him. “Percy was right. You are perfect, Chameleonis. But, only if you can deal with this.”

             “Mum said that we are a miracle, since she and dad only have a limited bit of Phoenix blood. But, with you we could bear a guaranteed cross. Actually, two. But it takes some adjustments.” George was more serious than Harry had ever seen him.

             “Come again?” he asked.

            “Think about it, Harry.” Fred suggested and Harry turned toward the flames.

             It was too much to take in, but the fact remained that he had always admired the twins. The fact that they had this unique bond explained their speech patterns and how they had played so well at Quidditch, but what did it mean for Harry?

           A Chameleonis took on the attributes of his mates.

           It was so simple that he almost missed it. Two bodies, one mind. If Harry took the Phoenica, he’d have to do it simultaneously. He’d have to split into two bodies that took their cues from one mind. Fred and George had done this since birth, so it would be easier for them to manage, but could he? He considered it, sending a conscious thought to his hands, placing one on his stomach and one on his head. It was an old game, played in primary school. He rolled his right hand around his stomach as he patted his head with his left. The trick was to pat directly, without patting in a rolling motion.

          “He’s gone mad, Fred.” George sounded concerned but Fred answered him quickly. “Or he’s just trying to multi-task. It’s a different method, George.”

           Harry smiled widely as he turned around and took a step forward. His left leg stepped to the left as his right stepped to the right. He simply stepped out of himself, and was in two places at once. “Is this how you see things?” the Harry on the right asked. “I’d get a headache in an hour.” The Harry on the left added.

          “I think we need to do something about this.” George said and Harry oriented on him. It was hard because the different perspectives made him fuzzy, like before Harry’s vision had improved and he hadn’t put on his glasses. “This Harry in front of me, is Gary, and he’s mine.”

          “Then, I get this one and he’s now Frank. Always liked the name Frank.” Fred suggested.

           “I don’t think I care for it.” Frank said.

            “It feels too foreign.” Gary said.

           “Fine, then we’ll just call you Larry. Sounds cliché to me. Harry is now Gary and Larry.” Fred snorted and the four of them laughed. “But, there is one thing you don’t know.”

          “You can’t step out of yourself with clothes on,” George said.

          “And stay clothed.” Fred added and the Harrys looked down to find themselves naked, their clothes on the floor in front of the hearth where they’d begun.

         “So, I’m just that far ahead.” Larry said and Gary smiled evilly. They continued the last step forward to slide hands under the edges of t-shirts and along the buttons of a shirt. When one twin started to help, Larry slapped Fred’s hands away. “Let us do it.” He insisted.

          It wasn’t easy, directing four hands to do the things that only two had done before, and on two different targets, but soon the four lovers were naked and Fred had spelled the couch into a very large lounge that accommodated his body along with Larry’s. George would have done a similar trick, but Gary had beaten him to it, transfiguring the nearby armchair into a cot that was nearly as comfortable as the beds in the dorm room. He wasn’t sure about the dynamics, so he cast two contraception spells and crawled over his lovers.

AN: Who hates me for this ending?
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Chameleon's Song