Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Intangible	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9795 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-CH8
- 9-CH9
- 10-CH10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-CH19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-CH22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-Ch25
- 16
- 17
- 18
Author's Notes: Hey lovelies. I should hopefully have some more for you a bit later in the week. Touch of depression distracting me, but nothing to worry about. Thanks again for reading and reviewing. Always nice to hear from people.
Tommy-Lane: Ah, the clicking pen was definitely fun. Little muggle technology among magic= cute. I find it ironic that Draco finally gets his inspiration to use his backbone once faced with things really too big to handle. >_< Probably a bit cruel on my part, La. I like your evil plan—I cannot promise anything, but it was a very good plan!
BAFan: He really doesn't know. Repeated. XD
starr: Yes... and yes. I see Harry being the jealous type about this sort of thing...

Chapter Seventeen
The spell was not going well. Jaz was straining over the words, a strange weight descending on the room. Harry was so focused on Fawkes and the bird's presence that it had taken him too long to deduce the problem. They weren't alone.
Harry had only caught the flicker of light, his vision very much focused on the three dimensions he shared with the phoenix. But as he felt more power building, trying to disrupt Jaz and stop the spell, Harry began to focus outside the room. He opened up all his senses, swearing loudly when he caught sight of the silent Vesper.
Nearly half the pack was surrounding his dungeon room, including the sides where empty classrooms flanked the warded space. With the spell going they could not get inside, but Harry was certain the moment Jaz finished his part, and Harry reached for Fawkes, the damn beasts would attack.
Harry considered his options, very few open to him. Moving would ruin the spell. Interrupting the spell would set them back days, days Harry didn't have while waiting for Jaz to resupply the needed elements. Not doing anything would leave Harry an injured, sitting target, along with every person that stepped into that room once the spell was done. It was not looking hopeful.
Focusing on the closest dragon, Harry pushed his mind at it, hoping to get a dialogue going that could result in the creatures backing off. He flinched from the scalding, hateful thoughts swirling in the beast's mind. It was surrounded by humans, and although could not smell them in its invisible state, it was full of hate for people, very much agitated and wishing for open space. The dragon had been ordered to be where it was, and as Harry pushed at its thoughts again, he gave a relieved sigh to see that those orders also included not to harm any humans.
At least those outside would be safe. Harry did not know if the Vesper considered Jaz to be human. Hopefully they would leave the specialist be and just focus their attack on Harry. Harry had little thought for anything else shortly after that. The spell had changed, silence echoing in the air, magic rising up and coiling, funneling towards the center where Harry stood across from Fawkes.
It was time, and Harry could not keep his attention on anything else but to connect with Fawkes and return home alive.

Each step through the castle with the invisible Vesper around Draco had been surreal. He was leaving, possibly forever, and no one but Blaise even knew. There had been no one in the hallways, no one to ask where he was going, or why, or to even care. A permanent shiver was running up Draco's spine, flaring brighter every time Matten's hand brushed his arm, or feathers tickled his knees and waist as the creatures pushed close. He felt almost safe among them, almost comfortable and protected as the dragons clicked nails and breathed, their body heat radiating warmth that his skin felt.
Away from Blaise, the Vesper had stopped their growling. Still they felt angry in Draco's head, agitated with their surroundings and ill at ease. Matten kept softly rumbling, soothing the creatures and quenching the bubbling laugh that had been threatening Draco for days now.
Draco was just at the castle door when Blaise came running after him, Pansy, Ron and Hermione panting at his side. The odd spell was broken, the atmosphere less dreamlike with people in the normal realm to remind Draco that he appeared alone. And then Draco saw Blaise, and he remembered why he had left the boy behind.
“I told you to go tell Dumbledore,” Draco hissed, glaring at the worried faces pointed at him. “So he doesn't kill Potter once the spell is done. Harry won't react to the scent and Dumbledore needs to know!” It had been hard enough getting out his bedroom door with Blaise shouting that the Vesper were tricking him, and that Harry would never agree to Draco sacrificing himself to save the reckless Gryffindor. Two thirds of the stubborn Golden Trio would only make things extra difficult when all Draco wanted was to save Harry.
“I will, right now. But they need to say their peace, Draco.” Blaise insisted, glaring at the Vesper surrounding Draco's legs. Draco could hear the pack, scratching impatiently, growling at the sight of humans. Matten was by Draco's shoulder, ever so lightly touching his arm. The man had touched him once, when stepping outside the barrier around his bedroom, and could not seem to resist since, light brushes of fingers every other moment or so.
Hermione plucked the glasses from Blaise's face, slipping them on and looking around. “Hmm... This is quite the extended family you have there, Malfoy. Too bad they all look like they want to murder you. Blaise, we'll deal with this. Maybe you should take Pansy?” The girl looked close to tears in worry and Hermione had really had enough of crying for the day.
They would never hurt you. Matten insisted, palm flat on Draco's arm and sending a hot shiver through him. As long as I am here to control them, no hunter will harm a human.
“The shifter is controlling them,” Draco said simply to Hermione, watching his friends run off to save Harry. Not waiting for a reply, he opened the castle door.
“Malfoy, wait.” Ron strode forward quickly, holding the door open and towering over Draco. “Harry wouldn't want this. He's been doing everything he can to protect you, just in case he doesn't make it and you're on your own. You going with them is going to negate all of that.”
Draco sighed, glaring up at Ron. “Weasel, Harry is not the fucking boss of my life. No one is. I appreciate your concern, but I hardly owe you anything for it. It might seem dumb to you, but walking out this door is the only thing I can do to protect him, and I am going to do it.”
“And who is to say they'll keep their word?” Hermione asked, also stepping up but mindfully avoiding the dragons that Ron was obliviously standing in the middle of. “They're still in there surrounding his room. There are people in that hallway—lots of people. Nearly half the staff of teachers is in the other room, plus Madame Pomfrey's people.”
“Matten?” Draco asked flatly, not bothering to turn and see what could not be seen.
I will withdraw them now, if you insist. You have given your word, so I will keep mine.
“He's calling them off. Anything else?” Draco asked agitatedly, raising his hand to his forehead. The two Gryffindors exchanged looks, Ron finally pointing at Hermione and then the door. Hermione gave a shrug, eyes sharp behind the magical glasses.
“I'm going with you,” Hermione said evenly, pulling her wand out and summoning her notebook and pen from her room, along with a cloak.
“Like hell you are,” Draco snapped. “You're human. Without a Kalistar the Vesper will kill you the moment you approach their village border.”
“That is a possibility...” she mussed, flipping through the book she had called, stopping at a spell written in her precise handwriting. “But I am also a witch, and a brilliant one, at that. And I just learned this spiffy new spell to remove my scent.”
Draco growled, feeling a headache coming on. Matten gave a soft purr and Draco snarled, whirling towards the annoying creature that kept trying to control him. “Stop it. I do not need to be serenaded every time I have a bloody emotion. Tell me, will they kill her? Can you promise me she will be protected?”
I cannot. You are at least our kin, and dwell with us in the other realm. She is not.
“Granger, I can't guarantee you'll live,” Draco cried, exasperation clear on his face. “Do you understand the pressure you're putting on me right now?”
Hermione sighed uninterestedly, idly twirling her wand. “Malfoy, I would prefer to have you bitching at me, than Harry throwing a fit because I let you go wandering off in the Forbidden Forest alone with a pack of vicious Vesper. That boy has a temper, and it usually involves ripping up my beautiful books—I never find all the pages. I'm going with you, and it's not negotiable. If I die I take full responsibility.”
That was hardly a comfort for Draco, and he let the pushy witch know. “Granger, I'm leaving to prevent deaths. Not cause them.”
“I'm not in a rush to die. They are still vulnerable to magic... Harry made sure we tested it on him.” She fixed the shifter with a piercing gaze. “Can your friend talk to me, Malfoy? Or do they only communicate with halflings?”
Draco sighed, knowing he had lost a battle he was never going to win. It was very much like dealing with a female Potter, but less fire, more logic and still absolutely infuriating. “Matten, do you want to talk to the girl?”
I do not believe she will take no for an answer.
Hermione snorted, and Draco realized she must have been allowed into the conversation. “No, she is determinedly stubborn.”
“Matten, was it? I have no intention of hurting anyone, or getting underfoot.” Hermione assured. “Just think of me as a chaperone, making sure my friend here doesn't end up mauled or deflowered.”
Draco placed his hand over his eyes, wishing he could disappear. He hated Gryffindors, especially the chuckling Weasel who's face was turning red from holding in his laughter.. “And I'm leaving now.”
I cannot vouch for your safety, human. The entire pack resides at the village, and the younger ones are not used to the scent of human and have been known to lose control. I do not believe Draco would want to see you killed.
“I should hope not... but hard to say with that one...” Hermione began waving her wand around, intoning slowly and surrounding herself in a bright, hot pink light that pulsed and faded. She sniffed her hand, nothing coming to scent that she could tell. Eyes glued on the creature standing to the right of Draco's glowing magical form, she carefully raised her hand, a question in her eyes. “Will you harm me, even if I do not smell like human?”
Would you give me reason to harm you? Matten asked just as warily, his head tilted to the side.
“You don't trust humans... not just the scent.” Hermione observed, carefully placing her hand next to the shifter's face. Matten gave her a precursory sniff as he shifted through the dimensions, his white eyebrows rising in surprise to find the girl did not register at all by his nose.
That is surprising... and very useful, girl. And just another reason why we do not trust your kind. We were not always so violent to human scent. Humans gave us reason to be over the years. And why breed out such a useful trait when humans still threaten us?
Hermione shrugged, glancing down at the dragons that came up to her waist. “I have my own issues with some particular humans, mostly the ones that hate my heritage. But wanting to kill them will hardly solve those problems. They want to kill me, and well, I won't let them, now will I?”
“She is surprisingly resilient for a muggleborn,” Draco agreed quietly, stepping out into the nearing twilight. The sun was just disappearing over the horizon and they would be walking through the forest in the dark.
“When will you be back?” Ron asked.
That is up to the halfling. The girl is free to leave whenever she chooses.
“I have a test next week, so let's shoot for that.” Hermione and Ron exchanged what Draco was beginning to suspect was a code between the two. He would not put it past friends of Potter to learn some sort of telepathy just to get around the boy's moods.
“Then I'll expect you in a week, at the latest.” Ron held the door for Hermione, standing still while she smiled crookedly and gave a small wave. That they weren't dating after all these years was odd to Draco, but then again, the two were odd in general, and it was none of his business. Ron was clearly head over heals, and Hermione was, as usual, blind to anything that wasn't a book.
Draco did not snap when Matten started his soft purr again, the sound floating around his left ear as the man brushed his arm. It was a strange sensation, reminiscent of Harry, but Draco had never heard his boyfriend purr. The Vesper pack took up residency around his legs, slowly herding him towards the trees, Hermione silently walking beside and not on top of the creatures. He felt when the rest of the Vesper waiting around the castle joined them, the pack's aura growing in strength and two more shifters brushing Draco's shoulders with new low purrs, but not speaking.
Draco would see what the village held. He hoped it would be interesting enough to replace the mental image of Harry lying on the classroom floor, dead from the wounds Voldemort had inflicted months ago. The breeze was cool and the night growing dark. Draco gave himself to the sensation of walking beneath the rising moon among the pack, and tried to block everything else from his thoughts. His heart ached, and he prayed Harry was well.

Blaise and Pansy reached the hallway only minutes before their bearded headmaster was to step into Harry's room. Dumbledore had one hand on the door, fingers twitching, face grim. In his other hand was his wand held at the ready. Snape was beside him, staring at the door as if he could see through it, his face just as grim. The hallway was silent, the hushed sounds of breathing somehow making everything seem ominous.
“Sir, please—before you go in there!” Pansy called, and then collapsed, gasping for air.
Blaise reached her and then passed, leaning on the door to block Dumbledore from entering. “He's not susceptible to scent!”
“Not now, Mr. Zabini,” Severus said sharply, pulling Blaise away from the door while wincing in pain. “McVicar has collapsed. The status spells will not say why, but it suggests outside interference.”
Blaise nodded furiously, his hand held up as he caught his breath. “The Vesper—They were here. Could still be here.”
“Where?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes sharp as he looked around them.
“Here, around Harry... and Draco's room...” Blaise took a deep breath, catching Pansy's warning expression. Blaise did not feel any need to hide Draco's situation, even as a friend. Draco running off into the woods with the Vesper could only lead to no good. “They've taken Draco... The Vesper threatened to kill Harry if he didn't go.”
Severus said a word that made Pansy giggle in shock when heard from her reserved head of house. “Potter must be taken care of first. It is the last stage of the spell, and it cannot be interrupted.” Both men turned back to the door, eyes again boring through as if everything within was revealed.
“But he won't react to scent. Just tell me you understand—The Vesper told Draco personally.”
Dumbledore glanced over his shoulder, nodding. “I understand, Mr. Zabini. Now please, we need silence to hear.”
Blaise and Pansy quietly moved to the other side of the hall, watching anxiously as the minutes ticked by. The oppressive silence fell again, and Pansy reached for Blaise's hand after a moment, not wanting to deal with the terrible feeling alone. Draco was disappearing into the night and Harry was soon to reappear. It was not a fair trade.
For as still as everyone was, they became animated the instant Dumbledore tightened his grip on the door handle and pushed it open. As if a gun shot had exploded, suddenly everyone was moving. Snape and Dumbledore slipped silently into the room, and all the medical personnel followed after in hushed mutters, blocking Blaise and Pansy's view. Then the doorway was clear and wide open, and exchanging glances, the two teenagers slowly edged across the hall to peer in.
Behind them the potions classroom door clicked open, Remus and Sirius stepping free while other worried faces leaned out. Blaise turned back to the scene inside, dread growing.
The dimensional specialist was on the ground by the door, blood pooling from a head wound, his dark glasses cracked on the stone floor. A medi-wizard was hovering over him, taking his pulse and reading status spells. Dumbledore, Snape, and everyone else was in a huddle, crouched over what they could only assume was Harry. The press of bodies hid most from view, but through a set of ankles Pansy could see a bloodied hand, blacker than even Blaise's skin, long wicked talons broken and jagged at the ends.
Severus stood shakily, moving to see if Jaz was dead or just injured, and revealing the fallen phoenix. Fawkes seemed nothing more than a pile of feathers, dull and grimy on the dusty floor.
“The bird is dead,” Sirius whispered hoarsely, clutching the door frame and leaning over Pansy to see clearer. But the medical personnel were not moving, blocking Harry from view of the door. Spells began to ring out, hushed voices raising, calling for healing actions beyond simple student comprehension. It went on for long minutes, one particular witch snapping orders louder than the rest. She told them to stop. Silence fell.
“Hold,” Dumbledore demanded, straightening. He glanced once at those waiting in the doorway, his eyes hard. Dumbledore walked to Fawkes, the bird still motionless. Crouching, he shifted his long beard aside, reaching his hand out to touch the broken phoenix. Flames began to lick from his fingers, and he murmured softly to his old friend, a soothing coo as he called to the bird.
Fawkes did not respond, feathers still and lifeless. Dumbledore shimmered more flame, hot red fire dancing on his fingers and palm, heating the bird until it glowed fireside red. “Come now, little one... We need your help...” He passed his hand over repeatedly, stroking from head to tail feathers.
Fawkes burst into flames, twisting into a golden glow, crackling and trilling as fire rose up and nearly singed Dumbledore's eyebrows off. The man fell back, sitting hard, with a look of surprise on his face. Brows furrowed, Pansy glanced at Blaise, but the boy was staring intently at the phoenix. Dumbledore looked different... twinkly...
Behind Dumbledore there came a cough, and then a moan of quiet agony that slowly raised in volume until it was bouncing off the walls and deafening everyone in the room. Spells started flying again, voices shouting over the sound of Harry's pain as they tried to stabilize the boy.
Pansy stumbled back, Remus gently holding her shoulders and helping her away from the door and the terrible sounds within. Blaise didn't follow, thumb stuck between his teeth as he watched Dumbledore join in the fray of medical casters. The noise was better—it meant Harry was alive. Surely the dead didn't scream.
There was a sudden change in fervor to the medics, wands being dropped to grab at Harry, the boy trying to sit up. Blaise gaped, quickly turning away, vomit searing in his throat. Up close Harry was a giant scab, bloodied and torn, his arms barely attached, knees twisted horribly. Voldemort's revenge had not been gentle. It was a wonder Harry had managed to live long enough to kill the dark wizard. If they hadn't been blown into the other realm, Harry may not have won at all.
Hesitantly, Blaise turned back, relieved to see Harry had been stunned, streams of bandages being wrapped around him and tying him to a stretcher. The medics were still yelling, slightly lower in volume but not intensity. Harry needed to get to the waiting infirmary if they were going to save any of his destroyed beast body.
They cleared the hallway, watching as the group hoisted Harry up and rushed him out the door and down the hall. It was bizarre to see so much black and red on the boy, the white of the sterile bandages making him look even more startling dark.
“Right...” Sirius muttered, tearing his gaze from the sight of Harry disappearing around the corner. He fixed wild eyes on Blaise and grabbed him roughly by the collar. “Now where the hell is my cousin?”
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Intangible