Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Fins and Other Such Bodily Additions	By : TheGreatAng Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9957 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: 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.

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A/N: So this story, I will warn you all, will be after DH, but with a few significant changes to the movies/books. Some things that happen in canon won’t happen and other things will be completely new, but hopefully just as entertaining. Like I previously said, if you have an idea or anything for the plot, something about a character – seriously anything – let me know! Hopefully interest in this story will pick up once the plot gets started. Anyways, enjoy.

~

It had been a long day for Draco what with all the worry and fear he had been holding in side, stewing over. It didn’t help that he literally had no friends left at Hogwarts. Vincent Goyle had been arrested for being a Death Eater; Pansy Parkinson was in hiding from death eaters and aurors alike; and his best friend Blaise Zabini had been wounded in the final battle and was still recovering. The rest of Slytherin house was made up of younger years who didn’t know whether to look up to him or be terrified of him. Hopefully Blaise would be able to join him later in the year, but for now he was alone.

Draco walked calmly towards the Great Hall for dinner, trying to keep his mask of cool indifference in place until he could make it back into his dorm room.

~

Harry Potter sat at the Gryffindor table with his head in his hands, groaning as another wave of pain shot through his skull. He had already taken a headache relieving potion as well as a pain numbing one and still his whole head felt like it would explode.

A hand landed softly on his shoulder and he let out a growl. The handed quickly retreated before a quiet, yet worried sounding voice called his name. His head shot up to look at the person that had spoken to him and he instantly stopped growling at the wide eyed, worried look that they were giving him.

“Sorry ‘Mione,” Harry said softly, trying to speak as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t hurt his own ears.

Ever since his 18^th birthday his senses has steadily increased in strength up until the point that he wondered if he had a brain tumor or something. It honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if he had. He had lived with a piece of second soul stuck in his head for 17 years.

“Have you taken your potions today?” Hermione asked trying to be quiet even though the rest of the great hall was yelling, screaming, laughing, and carrying on like usual.

“Yeah ‘Mione, I took them about an hour ago. They aren’t helping.” Harry answered staring at the little bit of mashed potatoes and roast beef he had left on his plate, not that there was much on there to begin with.

“Well the Healers at St. Mungo’s did say that it would take a while to take effect.” Hermione said trying to sound optimistic, “Plus it should be gone in a week or so anyways.”

Harry groaned again at the thought of having to go through this for another week. He didn’t even want to think about the multiple week option. It had all started when Harry had gotten to the Weasley’s Burrow the day after his birthday. A small headache had already started after he had woken up that morning to find that his senses had seemed sharper. When he walked into the loud, colorful Burrow and was not only assaulted by the noise and now intensely bright colors but also the scent of one of Molly’s feasts being made he immediately was hit by a wave of pain and a massive dizzy spell. It hadn’t helped that he had apparently cried out and the whole Weasley clan was instantly there fussing over him, adding to the sensory overload.

He had woken up in St. Mungo’s Hospital with only Ron and Hermione in his room, both were sleeping, cuddled up together on a love seat that had been put beside his bed. The lights had been dimmed and everything had been changed to chocolate brown and grey colors. Even his friends’ clothes were those colors. After a pain, anti-nausea, and a nutrient potion he had been told what was happening to him.

As of his 18^th birthday, the birthday when he would receive his full magical inheritance and any titles that had been left to him, his senses had been increased by the massive amount of magical that his core had released into his system. This was highly rare since it only happened to half or full blooded wizards or witches that had been raised by non-magical beings. A half or full blooded wizard not only inherited their own magic but they also received bits of magic and abilities from previous generations. If these wizards or witches were raised my magical beings they would be constantly in touch with magic, but if these wizards or witches were raised my non-magical beings they would only be around magic for a few years and would also have to readjust every time they would leave and come back to the magical world before their 18^th birthday. Muggleborn witches and wizards didn’t have to go through this process because they didn’t have any previous magical generations.

So now his magic was expanding and finding any outlet it could use, which just happened to be all of his sensory organs. The pain potion and headache potion that St. Mungo’s had prescribed him was designed specifically for people like him and were supposed to help dull his senses. Though that healer had warned him that it may take time for the effects to kick in, and it might not work at all because of how powerful he was and how old his family lines were. He not only had the Potter line flowing through him, but his godfather Sirius Black had named him his heir, thus giving the Black family magic an outlet as well.

Usually the magic gained on the 18^th birthday of a wizard or witch would calm down within a few months to the point where the person’s magical core would sort itself out. The healers at St. Mungo’s had told him that though this was normally the case, because of how much magic he had received on his birthday it would probably take until the end of October, a full extra month then the average witch or wizard.

While Harry was lost in his thoughts Hermione had gone back to talking with Ginny and reprimanding Ron for eating without chewing his food, thought she occasionally threw him a worried glance. Harry took in a deep breath threw his nose, knowing that it would hurt his head more, but also needing to try and calm down his frayed nerves. His eyes snapped wide open when a delicious scent wafted over his nose before being lost amongst the smell of food and the other students in the hall. His eyes and his nose searched and searched for the rest of the dinner hour, but he couldn’t seem to find the source of the smell again.

~

                Draco sat at the end of the Slytherin table and ate his dinner away from the terrified, curious, and then even more disturbing adoring eyes of the younger years. The one time he looked up from his plate he internally groaned as he made the same mistake that he made every year. He had looked at the Gryffindor table; though that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that he had looked at one Harry Potter.

                He had admitted to himself in fourth year that his bullying of the King of the Gryffindorks was not based on house rivalry. At first he had bullied the other boy because he had rejected his friendship in their first year, but then puberty set in and his hormones took his bullying to another level. He got meaner and nastier the more his emotions expanded and evolved. It was no longer jealousy that caused him to go after the golden trio, it was pure need.

                At the start of his infatuation he had just wanted to see Harry, and the only way to do that was to confront him. Merlin knew that if he tried to be civil Weasley would throw an insult and a Malfoy never let an insult go unpunished. After fourth year though, he had noticed the Gryffindor Golden Boy become, well, less golden. His moods started to change and he went from being a kid who Draco saw laughing with his friends, to the man who had the world on his shoulders. So Draco’s obsession had gone from needing to see Harry Potter to needing to see Harry Potter with another emotion rather than gloom on his face. It just so happened that Draco Malfoy just happened to be the one person who could set said Gryffindor into a rage. So he did the only thing that he knew how to do; he pissed Harry Potter off, a lot.

                Sixth year had been a testament to just how much he could piss of said wizard. That year had been terrible. Not only did his father want him to join the Dark Lord, something that his mother was completely against and not afraid to let her husband and her son know about it, but Professor Snape had added onto his current curriculum with private lessons ranging from Dark Arts and Defense to Magical Creatures and History. So to say that he was stressed out and a little frayed around the edges was an understatement. Then he had noticed that the object of his infatuation had taken up a new hobby; watching him.

It wasn’t much of a surprise. He knew how he looked to everyone. It was obvious that something was either drastically different or quite a bit wrong with him. He didn’t associate with many of the other Slytherins, he snuck off at random moments during the day, plus he was stressed out and as much as he tried to hide it he knew some of that stress had leaked out into his appearance. He was a Malfoy though, and used this new found attention to his advantage. He knew it was dangerous, sneaking off and hiding all the while knowing that Potter was not far behind, chasing him. It was a game of cat and mouse, but he learned all too late who had truly been the cat.

Draco hid a wince as phantom pains passed briefly over his scarred torso and face. He remembered the fight he had with the Gryffindor. Potter had shown up at the wrong time, just after he had received yet another howler from his father, and the boy had said the wrong thing. Draco had been so upset at the time that he didn’t even register who he was casting at or what spells he was using; he just knew that he had an outlet for all of his built of stress and he wasn’t going to let the moment pass by. It wasn’t until he was lying on the floor in a shallow pool of water with blood flowing from his chest and his cheek that he recognized who he was dueling with.

Harry had stood over him with a look of horror on his face, his wand held loosely in his hand at his side. Then as he felt his life sleeping out of him and away to where ever souls go after their body dies, he did one of the few things he had wanted to do for so long.

With pain filled tears flowing down his face he parted his lips and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

It was either that or kiss the bloody idiot, which he couldn’t really do when the pain made it so he couldn’t move any part of his body. He didn’t really remember much of what happened afterwards. He remembered hearing a splash and then seeing Harry’s face hovering over him; his mouth forming words that he couldn’t quite understand. Then there had been a bright light and suddenly Professor Snape was kneeling beside him and muttering a spell and dripping a potion into his wounds. The potion made the pain so much worse that he had actually passed out. When he woke up a few days later it was to the hospital wing, bandages and a rather concerned looking godfather.

Now as Draco sat at the Slytherin table by himself, looking at the Gryffindor Golden Boy from underneath his eye lashes, hoping he wouldn’t be caught, he couldn’t stop the feelings from renewing themselves all over again. It didn’t help that Potter was looking even more attractive this year. He was able to sneak in a few glances at the Gryffindor during classes this year and was shocked at the change the now 18 year old had seemed to go through over the summer.

Potter’s skin was a golden honey color from years of sun, probably from practicing Quidditch Draco thought. The sport had done wonders for the man’s body as well, now filled with muscle; not enough to be overwhelming, but enough to be noticeable even then he wasn’t using them. Though he still wore unflattering clothes, much to Draco’s ire, but they seemed to at least almost be his size. His hair was still a mess of dark brown locks, but it was a quite a bit shorter than his usual long and shaggy look, and now it seemed to be styled enough so that it wasn’t in his face.

Draco had noticed a few things that had drastically changed since he had last seen Harry during the final battle against the Dark Lord. One thing was his eyes. They were once an odd, yet vibrant shade of green. Now they were a bright shade of blue green that literally glowed as if they had their own source of light. The second was that somehow the Gryffindor has somehow surpassed him height-wise. Not too long ago Draco had a good inch or two on the other boy, now Potter was at least two inches taller than him.

It wasn’t until those glowing eyes focused on his and narrowed in what seemed to be confusion did Draco realize that he had been caught staring. So he did the one thing he new how to do best. He ran.

A/N: I may make this into a threesome story if my muse and my readers like the idea of it. The third would be Blaise, who I already have a bit of a plan for. Kind of. Once again. If you haven’t already, email me at johnson.angel39@yahoo.com to be put on my update list. Putting for email in a review will most likely not get you put on my update list. Sorry. Just so you know. I will update this story but I would appreciate motivation. So please review. I will update without them, but would like them any ways. Got it? Good. Okay.
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Fins and Other Such Bodily Additions