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Shiloe: The Weapon	By : Sablesilverrain Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 24937 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the Potterverse, or anything you recognize here. I make no money from this either, sadly. I'm terribly poor. -.-

Chapter List
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Shiloe saw Dumbledore’s name on the bottom of the missive Harry had just opened and surged to the forefront, giving himself a headache and putting him in a foul mood instantly.

Blaise and Neville noticed the shift, and Luna patted his hand, calming his ire just a bit as he relaxed and looked down at the short note.

“Meet me tonight after dinner. You may tell the Founders where you will be, if they ask, but tell no one else. We will discuss more when you get to my office. The password is fudge flies. A. Dumbledore”

Shiloe snarled and crumpled the note. Honestly, there had to be a better way to notify him without letting Harry know something was going on. Normally Shiloe notified Harry when he needed a day. The sudden switch to taking days with no notice would, ironically, be noticed.

Shiloe looked up to see Blaise looking at him questioningly.

Shiloe shook his head. “No meeting tonight.” He said softly, then lobbed the crumpled paper into the air and set it aflame mid-flight. “Dumbledore.” He explained, and his anchors nodded as ash drifted down to the table.

*****

Shiloe got to Dumbledore’s office and entered when the man bid him to, then stood before his desk, back ramrod straight and hands clasped behind himself.

“You look ready to fend off an attack, Shiloe. Do sit down.” Dumbledore coaxed.

Shiloe cocked a brow. “I don’t intend to stay any longer than I have to.” He said shortly.

Dumbledore sighed. “Very well. I called you here to show you why Voldemort feels you are such a threat.”

Shiloe’s eyes widened minutely. Of all the things he had expected, he had never thought the man would be so forthcoming so quickly.

Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past Shiloe to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes’ perch. He bent down, slid back a catch, and took from inside it a shallow stone basin, carved with runes around the edges. Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed the Pensieve upon it, and raised his wand to his own temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands of thought clinging to the wand, and deposited them in the basin. He sat back down behind his desk and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment.

Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.

A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly, her feet in the basin. But when Sibyll Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones Harry had heard her use once before.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…”

The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished.

There was a pregnant pause and then Shiloe let out a breath. “I’m the ‘power the Dark Lord knows not.’” He surmised.

“I believe so.” Dumbledore said gravely. “You understand why I was hesitant to share this with Harry?”

“Because you belonged in Slytherin.” Shiloe answered, and Dumbledore reared back as though he had been slapped. “You like to hold all the cards close to your chest and move people as though they are pawns on a chessboard.” Shiloe continued, the words scathing, but delivered without inflection, almost in a monotone. “You hoard all the information for yourself and tell us the bare minimum and hope we conquer obstacles without knowing how or why, and then realize your mistakes in retrospect.” He finished, and Dumbledore sighed and sagged a bit.

“Am I really that bad?” The headmaster asked, clearly hoping to get a negative in response.

Shiloe sighed and sank into a chair. “Sir, let me be painfully honest with you right now: you treat everyone as if they were just children, playing some little game. But this is not a game, it is war. While you are over here planning and plotting, you are putting very real people in danger, and you don’t even seem to realize you are doing it!”

“I’m trying to preserve people’s—’

“If you say lives, I am going to cast an Unforgivable on you, Sir, and I can do it.” Shiloe said, wand suddenly in his hand and trained on Dumbledore’s throat.

“Innocence, Shiloe. I am trying to keep people from becoming the ugly, twisted things war turn people into. If I can take all the pain onto myself and make the hard choices—”

“You steal the choices from those that deserve to make them.” Shiloe interrupted. “And then you try to play it off like you are doing them some grand favour rather than a grave disservice. Right here and now, however, you have finally made the right choice. I hope you’ll continue to do so.”

“What is this ‘right choice’ I have made, then? Perhaps I will continue it.” Dumbledore said tiredly.

Shiloe leaned forward. “You have given me some of your valuable intelligence, and have let me have some agency in how my role in this war plays out. That is what you should always do.”

Dumbledore shook his head. “It can be dangerous, if I give the wrong information to the wrong people.” He said.

“And that is a risk you must take sometimes. But you have an advantage. You can ask Fawkes.” He said, nodding to the Phoenix on the perch.

Dumbledore frowned. “He is not mine, he belongs to Hog—”

“Harry.” Shiloe corrected. “He has bonded himself to Harry.” He revealed.

“But that’s wonderful news!” Dumbledore cried happily. “Harry is a remarkable young man, and deserves such a loyal bird! Why has he stayed mostly up here, then?” He asked.

“Because your need of him is currently greater.” Shiloe told him. “You need a bird that can read people, that will know their honest intentions, and can answer yes or no questions regarding them. He stays with you until the war reaches its end.”

Dumbledore frowned again. “So you want me to consult with Fawkes—”

“Before you give information out, but if he tells you the person is trustworthy, give them the information they need, I am begging you!” Shiloe said fervently.

Dumbledore stared at his Pensieve for long moments, then nodded. “I will try.” He conceded, and Shiloe felt like getting up and dancing in joy.

He reined that urge in and added, “There has to be a way to contact me without letting Harry know something is going on, and I can’t keep taking days without asking. I usually make arrangements with him at least twenty-four hours in advance when I will be out for a day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Would you be amenable to meeting again next week? Say, Tuesday evening?”

“Not tomorrow?”

“No, the next Tuesday.” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I don’t make a habit of interfering too much with a student in their O.W.L. year.”

Shiloe scoffed. “Headmaster, please.” He drawled. “The workload is posing no problem at all to Harry, now that he has me.”

“So you would be agreeable to meeting every day next week?” Dumbledore asked brightly.

Shiloe winced. “I’d rather not inflict you upon my person that much.” He said in distaste.

Dumbledore smiled widely. “Then we are agreed. Next Tuesday.”

Shiloe nodded. “I will make arrangements.” He said before leaving.

One thing was for certain.

“I need to talk to Severus.”

*****

Shiloe knocked on Severus’ door and the man opened and sighed. “Well, come in. Are you hungry?”

Shiloe watched his arse as he walked away with great appreciation. “Are you offering?” He asked back.

Severus sat in his usual chair and patted his lap. “Come have a seat. I can tell it is important, and then we will discuss if you want to Feed.”

Shiloe came over and sat in his lap, smiling as the man clamped a firm hand over his upper thigh.

“Dumbledore asked me to his office today.” Shiloe said, relaxing into his lap. “He wanted to give me some information.”

“What kind of information?” Severus asked.

“He told me the Prophecy.”

Severus stilled. “Told?” He echoed. “Just like that?”

“He showed it to me, actually. In his Pensieve.” Shiloe clarified.

Shiloe could hear the frown in Severus’ voice when next he spoke. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“I know.” Shiloe told him, then smiled. “Which is why I commended him for it.”

Severus chuckled. “You sound far too smug about that.”

“Well, I am. It’s not every day a repression Shiloe holds the moral high ground above the great Albus Dumbledore.”

Severus snorted.

“I want to show you the prophecy.” Shiloe said, trying to turn around.

Severus held him still and said firmly, “No.”

“What do you mean, no?! You’re my anchor so you can help me make sense of this shit! I’m not an adult, I need an adult’s perspective!” Shiloe huffed.

“Ask Black or Lupin.” Severus said. “Or Bill, Charlie. Hell, ask Diggory, but not me, and not Lucius!”

“Fine. I’ll go ask Lucius, then.” Shiloe made to scoot off of Severus’ lap and the arms around his waist clamped down.

“Shiloe, if either of us get found out and brought before him, he will rape our minds to discover every kernel of information he can glean from us—about you. The fact that we even know about you puts us at risk!” Severus said furtively, almost sounding fearful.

“Well, the fact that you are my anchors puts you at great risk, so suck it up, Buttercup, and lead me so I don’t die!” Shiloe snapped, wriggling until he got free en0ough to turn around and face the man. “You’re going to go into my mind, and watch the prophecy. Then we are going to discuss it, and I am going to call up Lucius, Remus and Sirius—Yes, I know, you hate him—and we are all going to sit down and have ourselves a little chat this weekend.”

Severus sighed and held Shiloe’s chin between his fingers. “Push it towards me, then.”

Shiloe let the prophecy rise to the forefront of his mind and Severus watched the figure speak, then drew back out.

“He made it come true.” He spoke softly.

“Yeah.” Shiloe agreed. “I got that much.”

“There was no reason for Lily to die!” Severus seemed to be speaking to himself, lost in thought.

“Severus, were you in love with her?” Shiloe asked warily.

Severus shook his head. “It went so much deeper than just in love.” He murmured.

Shiloe frowned. “Alright, not cool. Here I am, offering you my heart and soul on a platter, and you’re hung up over a dead chick?!” He poked Severus in the chest. “Listen, Buddy, Shiloe are jealous creatures by our very nature. If I have to be jealous of Harry’s very dead Mother, I’m going to be seriously pissed!”

Severus shook his head. “It was a long time ago, it is over and done with. Besides, I never would have had the same relationship with her that I share with you, and I think I speak for both of us when I say we need the catharsis we get from our bedroom games. Neither of us would make it very long without them.”

“Good save.” Shiloe muttered.

“I thought it was inspired.” Severus agreed with a small smile.

“I’m still watching you.”

“You are right, though. We need Lucius, Lupin, possibly Black will have a useful comment or two, but we will also need Bill Weasley.” Severus said.

“You saw the condition he was in just three days ago, he shouldn’t be stress—”

“He’s pregnant, not made of glass.” Severus sneered.

“If he goes into premature labour because you insisted on his being there—”

“You can kill me then. I think he will be fine.” Severus shot back. “Go back to your rooms, let the Founders know what you found out and send letters to the others, saying nothing sensitive on paper.”

Shiloe rolled his eyes as he got up. “I’m a teenager, Severus, that doesn’t make me an idiot.”

“I beg to differ.” Severus murmured, cursing when Shiloe’s rapidly-fired furnunculus caught him in the face.
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Shiloe: The Weapon