Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
- 30
Just a little note. I’m currently in the process with the help of my new beta of going through this fic and ironing it out. By that I mean finding and correcting as many spelling mistakes as I can but I’m never happy with any chapter so I’ve added some bits and changed others. So if anyone does re read and sees a bit they ‘forgot.’ It’s probably new. Only up to chapter 12 but will let you know when I’m caught up.

I’m gonna shut up now and let you read.

Chapter 29

My transformation went well. No, that’s an inadequate way to describe it. I have quite frankly, never felt so refreshed after wakening from under the glare of the full moon. I felt comfortable in my own skin, like a weight had lifted, a pressure released. An unpleasant presence within my psyche, I had not noticed before it was absent. Even Ammy seemed more pleasant this morning. Not just my perception of her but her general tone, as if more relaxed when left unhindered by any of the potions I had been creating previously.

She was true to her word according to Dale and his family. They were a little concerned to hear my cries of agony as my bones cracked and changed in their barn but after that all was quiet. It may have something to do with Dale dragging what I can only describe as half a cow into the enclosure moments before the sun fell below the horizon. The portion of fresh, raw meat was all but cleared from the floor when I awoke, so was much of the bone. A fact that I had thought would have me vomiting profusely come morning, my human stomach unable to digest such sustenance. However my body surprised me, the wolf inside of me gorging itself throughout the night and I had no negative repercussions. Although I will admit that I awoke to a full stomach and had no need of breakfast, something that I will need to commit to memory for a later date.

Another development I had not perceived was my total lack of conciseness throughout the entire event. As if I had mealy blinked and missed the entire thing. No terrifying nightmares that have little meaning, starting me awake with sheen of cold sweat coating my skin. Only the inky blackness of non-cognitive thought, lost somewhere in my mind, while Ammy prowled around her enclosure. In truth I cannot say if this is due to Ammy making her presence known me, or the fact that I have refrained from taking any further potions to subdue her and honestly I couldn’t care less. So long as I do not have to endure the burning embers through the eyes of Nanauatl nor the heavy weight covering my body in the body of Malina ever again.

It was before midday when I requested to be returned to school, the notion of wakening just once more, cold and alone making a knot of tension coil in the pit of my stomach in a most unpleasant of ways. My brother begrudgingly agreed to transport me back to the castle grounds, after extracting a promise that at my next visit I would stay the entire length of time afforded to us. Even going so far as to instruct me that Hermione was to also be a welcome presence in their household.

Coincidently side-along apparition with Dale was the single deciding factor for me to learn to perform the magical form of travel myself at the very earliest opportunity. He was able to reach our destination, eventually. After three failed attempts, twice landing in the wrong area of Scotland, one of which I came very close to having a finger unceremoniously spliced from my hand, we landed at Hogsmead station. Apparition is a magical practice that requires an abundance of concentration and direction. Two things of which, unfortunately for me, my brother is severely lacking in when the object of focus does not consist of four wheels and an engine.

The moment my feet land on solid ground I push against my elder siblings chest to put as much distance between us as possible, not wanting to endure such a transit again if it is not necessary. He chuckles at me, his hand sliding along the back of his neck and his cheeks colouring in mild embarrassment. “Sorry about that.”

Resisting the urge to push my palm against my chest, hoping that the action may be able to contain my pounding heart in my ribcage where it belongs I shoot him a wide eyed look. “You’re sorry?” I can hear the mortification in my own voice as I begin to take a mental inventory of all my external body parts.

I hear his clothing rustle and know intuitively that he has lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Yeah well, we’re here now.”

How can he possibly be so unfazed by such a thing? “Maybe you should take the train back.” I reply happy that my body is still as nature intended and genuinely concerned for my brother’s safety.

He mealy scoffs, wavering off my apprehension. “Na, I’ve been travelling like this for years. I usually end up where I’m supposed to be. And besides.” His eyes stop darting around the landscape and meet mine in a meaningful look. “Can you imagine me, me having to sit still for six hours?”

I manage to keep a straight face, for a whole six seconds before my teeth flash in authentic amusement. Something I’m very proud of. Strange to think that less than a fortnight ago the jest would very likely have gone right over my head. What a difference a day makes. “No. I think it would be cruel to subject the other passengers to such a torment.”

“My thoughts exactly.” His nod is deceive and he turns his attention to my satchel, pushing his thumb against the strap and sliding it off his shoulder, holding it out for me to retrieve. “You gonna be alright?” He asks when the bag leaves his grasp, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet.

I nod, shouldering the bag and pushing it further around my back, balling my firsts and pushing them deep into my pockets. “I’m sure I can find my way back from here.” My smile drops as I regard my brother, my head tilting slightly to the side and eyes narrowing slightly in concentration, as I observe him with a critical gaze. His posture screams that he is nervous about something. Even though his hands are tightly clasped behind his back I can see his shoulders twitching, straining against the temptation to fidget. He pushes air into his cheeks, puffing them out, pushing the air from one side to another and his eyes stay riveted to the floor. “Have I said something wrong?” I ask, his stance causing nerves to rise along the back of my neck.

“No.” He is quick to say, losing concentration and in turn control of his upper limbs. One arm pulls free and immediately his hand encasing the back of his neck once more, his fingers pushing through the short hairs he finds there. “It’s just…”

Old habit takes hold of me, my tongue stills in my mouth, not wanting to be the first to speak and an almost uneasy silence falls between us. I shift my feet from under me, trailing my gaze along the desolate train tracks so I have no way of unintentionally pressuring him into finishing his sentence.

“I kind of just… oh bollocks.” His palms scrub against the back of his head in frustration and suddenly he blurts. “Do you want to get a Butterbeer before you go back to the castle?”

Instantly my eyes are on him, both eyebrows raised in question. “A Butterbeer?” My forehead then creases in confusion at his reaction. He tries to act nonchalant but his sheepish expression gives him away, there is an ulterior motive to him wanting to share a drink with me. The concealed reason should be plain for me to see but continues to elude me. Eventually I have to concede the defeat with a frustrated sigh and a whispered. “Why?”

He shrugs again pulling confidence from some unknown place and forces his blue eyes to meet mine. “I was hoping to meet your friends.”

For a few long moments I only blink in his direction, wondering how I could have overlooked that desire. How it were possible that I needed to ask him to clarify. The answer to my own query strikes me like a blow to the chest. Never before has any member of my family expressed an interest to be in the presence of a group of people I hold so dear. I’m certain my mother may well have expressed the sentiment but at the time I had no close friends in which for her to be interested in.

He shuffles his feet and I can see a cloud of rejection covering his features. “It’s fine, we don’t have to.” Instantly I know I have taken far too long to reply.

So I step forward, wondering how I can salvage his good humour. Pressing my fingertips against my forehead I try desperately to put my thoughts into words. “I had no idea I was coming back today, I haven’t arrange to meet anyone.”

His eyes fill with the warmth of his smile as he raises his gaze, shrugging his shoulders again in a show of casualness. “I can still share a drink with my sister, can’t I?” The inside of his bottom lip pulled between his front teeth, mirth shining brightly in his eyes. “So long as you can bear to be seen with an old wizard like me.”

I sigh slowly at his abrupt behavioural change and wonder, not for the first time, what might happen if he were to spend any sort of substantial time with Ginny, both of them bouncing from subject to subject in rapid succession. I can’t imagine that I would be capable of keeping up with such a conversation. “You’re twenty-five.” I point out already turning on my heel and heading towards the magical village.

It doesn’t take much for him to catch up with me with his long gait. “Yeah well, when I was your age…” He starts, hunching his back over and holding his hand out to the side to mimic the use of a cane, his voice become nasally in the imitation of a much older man. “… I was under the impression that anyone over a quarter century resembled plankton.”

I turn my head to show him my single raised eyebrow. No matter how old a person might be I find it hard to compare them to the microscopic sea creatures. I could stretch to a comparison to mer-people, perhaps if based solely on the wrinkled skin but most certainly no other form of marine animal.

I don’t dignify his jest with any such answer, only quickening my stride into the village and find the path of least resistance to The Three Broomsticks, my brother smiling to himself the whole way, his eyes drawn to the shops lining the main street and down the darkened side streets. “This place hasn’t changed.” He comments more to himself in a haze of nostalgia.

I don’t speak; only observe him in my peripheral vision, as I have no intention of breaking him out of his ravine. He only settles his eyes in the direction he is walking when I pull open the door to the public house and hold it open behind me for him to take.

The Three Broomsticks is a haven of activity when we enter, much of the student body still permitted to visit the magical village throughout the holiday. Through the din of drinks being slurped, the clatter of cutlery and constant conversation, my highly sensitive ears only take a heartbeat to pick out that one voice that I had been pining for throughout my absence from the school. “I know Ginny. I’m just worried about her.”

My eyes seek out the source of the voice and find the back Hermione’s bushy head. I know the longing is visible in upon my face but try as I might I cannot suppress it, the feeling too strong to be controlled under my usual mask of indifference.

I hear the redhead reply but cannot tear my eyes away from Hermione. “She’s a big girl now. I’m sure she’s fine.”

The tension is plain to see in my partner’s shoulders, even as she quietly concedes. “I know.” A response so false you would need to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice it.

Ginny is none of these things and when I finally pry my eyes from my beloved I can see her shoulders sag in defeat having nothing further to say.

Two large hands land on my shoulders, drawing my attention away from the interaction between my two friends. “Go on.” Dale says, I know that from this distance and over the resounding commotion of the establishment he is unable to hear the conversation as I do but he must have been able to interpret the direction of my gaze from the moment I walked through the door. “I’ll buy you a drink.” His grasp tightens on me before he moves away in the direction of the bar.

Pushing my bag further over my shoulder I begin to traverse the room, having to squeeze between tables and patrons alike, until I come upon their table, neither of them turning to acknowledge me. “She’s still writing to you.” Ginny states trying to calm my girlfriend, it quickly becomes apparent that Hermione has confided at least some of my fears to the younger girl. A fact that should fill me with fury but instead I feel almost relived that she has been able to express herself to someone at the school.

“I know.” She starts and I can hear the agitation in her voice, at once I regent not returning sooner to put her mind at rest. “But what if someone else is writing them?”

I come up behind her and Ginny’s green gaze meets mine but a moment before I announce my presence. “Have you seen Dale’s handwriting?” Hermione turns in her seat, her arms open, one clutching the back of her chair, the other braced against the table’s edge. “It’s atrocious.”

Without warning she launches herself at me, her hands close over the lapels of my jacket and pull her high onto her toes, until her lips push against mine with an urgency we have never before displayed in public. The desire to have her closed in the circle of my arms all but overtakes me. My satchel dropping to the floor and my arms clench around her, pulling her flush against my torso in a single movement. One kiss of greeting immediately leads to another of affirmation, both of us on some level needing the intimate form of contact just to assure ourselves that the other is so close.

One of her hands slides up along my chest and across my cheek, warming my face with both her body heat and the strength of her affection. Almost making me wish our meeting had happened somewhere much more private, giving me the opportunity to suitably show her how much I had yarned for her touch since my departure.

Only Ginny gently clearing her throat is enough to separate us. Hermione’s brown eyes dart across my features before settling on meeting my gaze. “You’ve had your hair cut.”

Rumbling laughter bubbles up from deep in my chest, our position and her softly spoken observation at odds with each other to such an extent that it borders on absurd. “That’s all you have to say to me?” I speak around a beaming smile.

She nods with ecstatic energy returning the grin and sliding her hands down my torso and under my arms to push her palms against my shoulder blades. Pulling me still closer and tucking her head under my chin.

Resting my lips once against her hair I indulge myself, drawing in her scent through my nostrils and feeling my eyelids close in pure pleasure over the simple act. “We are causing a scene, My Love.” I say quietly, even now able to feel the eyes of the people around us with my eyelids hiding them from my gaze.

With much more haste than I neither anticipate nor appreciate she has her hands against my chest, aggressively pushing me back and away from her so she can look up at my wide eyes. “Was that a nickname?”

I feel my eyebrows bunching together and lowering over my eyes in thought. In truth I had misspoken, I had meant to call on her by name but the short term has slipped from between my lips unhindered by my own insecurities. “I suppose it was." Her lips press once more against mine in a chaste kiss before drawing away from me and turning to take her seat, knowing me well enough not to dwell on the matter.

A hand runs down my lower arm and her fingers tangle with mine, pulling me down to take the seat next to her. Our joined hands landing on the table and she slides the palm of her free hand along the back of mine to hold me securely.

I share another smile with her and let my attention wonder to the other side of the round table. For the first time seeing Ginny’s nose pressed deeply into a small book no longer than her palm. Gently whispering the phrase ‘My Love’ to herself as she eyes dart across the page.

My fingers run through my short hair to scrub at the back of my head in a habit I am quickly forming. “What is she doing?” I ask Hermione. Not wanting to take Ginny’s attention from the writing in front of her. It is not often I see her so engrossed in the written word and it is indeed a pleasure to see her so intent on what she sees.

I hear a long sigh at my side. “She’s checking who won.”

“Won what?” I ask already knowing I will not be pleased with the answer.

Her fingers tighten around mine, weather to placate me or to hold me in place I am unsure but her next words have my eyes widening in shock. “The betting pool.”

I can feel my jaw, hanging loose at the joint. How had I not been aware of this? I am usually so observant to the things happening around me and with my improved senses as of late it is almost unfathomable that I could have let this pass without notice. “You’ve been betting on me?” I direct my question to the top of Ginny’s head, which is still bowed over her book.

She shrugs. “I opened a book.” She looks up and shoots me a grin, pulling the small tome further apart and presenting it for me to see. “Literally.”

She isn’t prepared for the speed in which I reach out and pluck the tiny pages from her fingers. Turning it in my hand I let my eyes scan the pages, looking for any name I recognise in amongst the sea of people who should by all rights have little interest in my love life. Finally I find Ginny’s name. “Ambrosia Muff?” I say equal parts disgust and amused. “How much did you put on that?”

She huffs in my direction. “Only a sickle and you like Greek myth… and stuff. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

”Wasting your money Ginny.” I say flinging the betting book across the table, which she snatches up in her eager paws, turning a page and still searching for her champion.

The hands holding mind tighten to grasp my attention and Hermione worries her bottom lip. “You’re okay with this?”

My shoulders bunch in a shrug and I can feel my cheeks tighten in a smile. “Yeah, why not?” I have at least a portion of my family firmly back in my life and the woman I love holding me tightly in her grasp. Nothing will spoil this mood for me, especially not a betting pool that has obviously been the source of entertainment for many of the people around me, whether I am familiar with them or not.

When my gaze rests back on the redhead her attention is firmly placed on me, her jaw slack and the book pulled open but forgotten in her grasp.

Tilting my head slightly at her peculiar behaviour I attentively question. “What?”

“You’re smiling.” She states simply, acting as though such an action must be the beginning signs of Armageddon.

“Yes.” I answer slowly, brushing off the nagging feeling that this could be a verbal trap. Ginny is capable of such things but I have yet to see her do so maliciously, so summoning all my bravery I push forward. “I have been known to smile on occasion.”

“Nu-huh.” She contracts with a few choice negative sounds in the back of her throat. She turns to Hermione for aid, who steadfastly declines to answer by placing the focus of her eyes firmly on the table top. Without aid Ginny chooses to continue. “Smirk defiantly. Grin sometimes but you never, ever smile.”

My eyes catch Dale as he slowly progresses from the bar to our table, two tankards overflowing with foamy Butterbeer in his hands. With a distracted tone I regard Ginny. “I had no idea showing amusement was so complicated.”

One of the metal containers hit the surface of the table and he slides it into my hand, smiling brightly at the other two occupants and almost about to burst with excitement. “Hi.” Both of the women in my company fall silent at the unexpected intrusion. Dale for his part completely ignores the reaction pointing a finger at Ginny. “You must be…” He catches me opening my mouth to formally introduce them but cuts me off. “Don’t tell me. I can get this.” He only releases me from his gaze when my teeth close with an audible snap, his eyes flicking down to my hand still held between both of Hermione’s. “So you must be Ginny.” He directs once more towards the redhead though I can see his muscles twitching in barely contained excitement to meet the woman sitting quietly beside me.

I very nearly feel repentant for the redhead, not quite knowing how to react and meekly nods at my brother. Letting her hand be swallowed up in both of his as he enthusiastically shakes her arm with such ferocity, it rocks her entire torso. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so little about you.”

I roll my eyes at his choice of words. Where it is true I keep the particulars of the people I most care about close to my chest it is uncouth of him to draw attention to the fact. Still, I keep my unspoken promise, concealing my disapproval and letting him introduce himself in his own way.

He turns towards Hermione and with one more glance down at our clasped hands meets her brown eyes with a beaming smile. “You must be Hermione.”

“Y-Yes.” She slowly says and I can hear the hint of a nervous stutter in her voice.

Dale openly apprises her in a way that would cause my blood to boil had he not been my flesh and blood, before meeting my eyes and nodding his approval at her physical appearance. Suddenly I am beginning to realise this isn’t the cleverest thing I have ever allowed to transpire.

One side of my face twitches almost unnoticeably in annoyance at his actions, as the only outward show of my displeasure at his actions. “Hermione.” I pause until she turns her attention to me then lean back in my seat, taking up my tankard in my unoccupied hand. “It is my esteemed privilege to introduce Dale Desay.”

He huffs at my formal introduction. “I’m your bloody brother Jay. You don’t have to be so formal about it.”

I shrug at him. I am nothing if not a product of my upbringing. My mother instilled in me a firm sense of decorum and my father taught me how to use it to my advantage.

Over the past ten days he has become accustomed to my facial cues and immediately knows that I have no intention to answer his reprisal. He waves a hand in my direction and dips down to take a drink, licking the foam moustache from his upper lip as he does.

Hermione thankfully does keep at least a little sense of propriety. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Dale.” Even though I can hear the wariness in her voice. I have not forgotten the assumptions she must have made regarding my home life and I have yet to fully inform her. A mistake I do intend to rectify, though I have little idea on how I might accomplish that without my tongue tying itself in knots.

It is not often I pray to any of my gods. Give worship in my private thoughts with almost every breath most certainly but very rarely request anything of them. The look that spreads across Dale’s face has me calling each deity I can remember in the short stretch of time, pleading with them to make sure that the next thing out of his mouth is not embarrassing. Trying to hide behind my tankard as I take a mouthful of foamy beer.

“Pretty and proper. Now I see why you like her.”

It could have been worse, so much worse. So many stories he could have just jumped right into without prompt as he had been doing for the last ten days. In all honesty that was exactly what I had expected, his short comment however was not, this has me chocking on the beer in my mouth with such vigour that the bubbles fly up and cover my cheeks. The distinct sound of drowning heard for but a moment before I pull the cup away, dropping it to the tabletop to wipe at my face, still coughing and spluttering to try and force air back into my lungs.

Hermione releases my hand. Both of my palms close over my cheeks letting me feel the evidence of my embarrassment, as the burning twinge of scarlet covers both my neck and face.

That it itself sets the tone for the entire conversation thereafter. Ginny jumping into the bandwagon in the new game devised between her and my brother to see, and I quote. ‘Who can make either myself or Hermione turn the most interesting shade of red?’ By the time my drink was finished I had given serious consideration to forsaking my gods in the same way they have abandoned me this evening.

When my brother finally stood to leave with tears of laughter in his eyes and announced he would depart for the evening I very nearly put the flat of my foot to his backside in encouragement. However I managed to refrain from of violence, even when he sent a wink in Ginny’s direction with a wish to repeat the experience a second time whenever possible.

The three of us also gathered our things to return to Hogwarts, leavening the public house to head back up to the castle before we could be accused of being out of bed after hours. He pulls me aside as we depart waiting until the two girls are out of earshot to begin speaking. They only look back at my absence and begin to slowly amble their way up to the castle.

“Can you make it back from here?” He asks, seating his sights to the floor and shuffling his feet, giving the impression that this is not the reason he had silently asked me to remain behind.

“I’m sure I can remember the way.”

“Yeah.” He nods, meeting my gaze. “I like her.” He says, referring to Hermione.

Some warm emotion spreads through me, feeling like sunlight bathing my skin. “I didn’t ask for your approval.” I say, regretting the words the moment they leave my mouth. I had not asked for it, nor even been awaiting it but now that it has been said I have no wish for him to revoke his sentiment.

“I know.” He says with a wide grin. “But I’m giving it anyway.” He shrugs his shoulders trying to appear nonchalant but the look in his eyes betrays him. Pride. He’s proud of me and I cannot fathom why, but it slithers into my very soul, lighting me up from the inside out. “So yeah.” He clears his throat evidently at a lost for what to say. “Stay in touch.” His teeth worry his top lip.

“I will.” I adjust my bag against my shoulder, also hoping the conversation, which is rapidly becoming uncomfortable will reach its end. “I better get back to school.”

He nods his consent and I turn to leave, only managing a few strides before I hear. “Jay.” Upon turning in my brother’s direction I am immediately caught up in his arms, crushed against his chest in a desperate embrace. After stiffening to a painful degree for only a few moments I curl my arms around his upper body, accepting the affection in a way that I would not have dreamed of only ten days ago. “I’m gonna miss you.” He says and had it not been for my advanced hearing I doubt I would have heard him.

I take a step back from him, becoming uncomfortable with the duration of time I spend pressed against his chest and resting my gaze on the floor I reply. “I’ll miss you too.” Our eyes meet and we share a silent exchange of respect and fondness before I turn once more to catch up with my fellows.

“Oh, one more thing.” I cannot suppress the irritated sigh as he makes me turn towards him for a second time. An orb flies through the air in my direction and I have to lose the grip on my satchel to catch it in both hands. Running the skin of my palm against the pomegranate he has sent in my direction with a warm-hearted smile. “Enjoy the Thesmophoria.”

I laugh in his direction, throwing the fruit into the air and catching it one handed. “I’m sure I will. Bye Dale.” I call turning and falling into a light jog to catch up with my classmates.
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By The Light