Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Chronicle of Scales: Dragkyn Rising	By : BrutalTrvth Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 32267 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: The magical world of Harry Potter was created by JK Rowling. Therefore I don't own it. I'm also not getting paid for this.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
   Things moved quickly after that. Harry wasted no time in grabbing the small bag that contained all his worldly possessions, which mostly amounted to a pair of jeans and a couple of t-shirts, before hopping in the passenger car of Hagrid’s flying motorcycle. The hardy machine had no problem navigating the fierce winds of the storm, and it wasn’t long before the pair were coasting over the lights of London, where Hagrid had made arrangements for accommodations. The Toiling Cauldron appeared to be just another run down tavern squatting on the banks of the Thames. Inside of it, however, was a taproom big enough to swallow a castle and enough rooms to host every professional cricket league, every professional football league, and every professional rugby league at the same time, right along with their university counterparts.
   “Most powerful extension charm in Britain,” Hagrid explained when he noticed Harry’s awed expression. “And the second most powerful muggle diversion charm, right after the one around Hogwarts itself. The original owner started placing them back in the early 1200s, and his ancestors continued adding to them as well, right up until the mid 80s. Too many two-headed fish in the river, and the muggles were starting to take notice. They even spent a couple of million pounds dredging the river to clean it of all the ‘pollution’ it had acquired.”
   “This place is amazing!” Harry gasped as Hagrid led him to a table.
   “And the ceiling is high enough that I don’t need to worry about banging my head,” Hagrid added with a nod. “That’s one of the reasons I like it so much. Other is that the prices are fairly good. Not as good as the Leaky Cauldron’s, mind you. Safer though. Stronger walls and floors if you need them, too.”
   “Why would you need stronger floors and walls?”
   Hagrid grinned. “Ask me again in year. If you need to, that is.”
   Harry frowned. Now just what was that supposed to mean? Before he could ask, however, there was an interruption..

“Oi, Hagrid, who’s this?” The man who walked over looked like one of the extras from the Dicken’s play that Harry’s primary had put on every year, though he looked to be more a Pip than a Scrooge. His waistcoat was faded in places and patched in half a dozen others, while his pants were frayed around the cuffs. The man peered closely at Harry, bending half over the table to take a closer look. “Bloody hell, you’re Harry Potter!”
   Hagrid grabbed the man by the back of the neck and yanked him away from Harry. “Yes, he is Mack,” the giant said in a frightening whisper. “And I’d be much obliged if you could keep your damned mouth shut about it while we’re here.”
   “Ack, sure, sure!” The raggedy man held his hands up in surrender, then slid into a seat once Hagrid had released him. “So, what brings you back to the old haunt, Hagrid? Ain’t seen you around these parts for some months, mate. Starting to miss you at cards.”
   “Miss cheating me out of my money you mean.” Hagrid nodded at Harry. “He’s starting at Hogwarts this year. Headmaster Lupin sent me to bring him in and get his school supplies. We’ll be heading up to Diagon Alley tomorrow.”
   “Ah, I remember my first year,” Mack murmured as he leaned back in his chair. “right little hellion, I was. Not a patch on your old man, though.” He nodded to Harry. “Respected the hell out of him, I did. He must had half the castle wrapped around his little finger by the time he graduated.”
   “You knew my father?” Harry asked quietly.
   “The entire school knew your father,” Mack said, completely ignoring the rather pointed glare that Hagrid was aiming his way. “Or at the very least they knew of him. James Potter was the shining star of his class. Amazing at quidditch, quick with his wand, and quicker with a joke. He and his friends were like kings to the rest of us, and then he went and married your mother. Match made in heaven if there ever was one. Lily could do no wrong, and just about every boy wanted to-”
   Hagrid cleared his throat loud enough that nearby tables turned to look.
   Mack turned beet red and stood up. “Well, anyway. Let me see about fetching you some drinks and food. On the house, as it were. Not every day we serve a celebrity!”
   Harry frowned at the departing man’s back. “Wait. Was that our waiter?”
*
   Mack ended up delivering them a little bit of everything the kitchen had to offer. There was chicken, turkey, duck, and pheasant, all prepared in half a dozen different styles. There were chips, crisps, and baked potatoes. Porridges and puddings were heaped next to pastas and peas. Broccoli was bundled with celery as a balance to hot wings in twenty different sauces. Describing dessert was almost impossible. All Harry could remember before collapsing into a sweets-induced coma was that all the different colors resembled an explosion at a rainbow factory. Harry was sure that his definition of amazing had reached an all time high.
   Then Hagrid introduced him to Diagon Alley.
   Harry took one step past the sliding brick wall and was immediately overwhelmed by everything around him. The sights! The sounds! The smells! The street was wide enough for a herd of elephants to march down it six abreast, but that wasn’t enough to keep it from being absolutely packed with people in a dizzying array of robes and clothing. The robes were the dominant outfit of choice, most colored black though there appeared to be some grays and deep blues worked into the mix. But if there wasn’t much variety of color, that didn’t mean there weren’t radical differences in style. Robes were cut long and short, and while some had high, heavily starched collars others were worn so loose that they were nearly slipping off their wearer’s shoulders. Harry nearly tripped over his own feet when he spotted a redheaded woman whose robes were held closed by a single, severely overworked button perched between her breasts. It might not have been so distracting if the only other piece of clothing she was wearing had been an actual pair of pants instead of the gauzy loincloth hanging from a thin leather thong.
   Harry suddenly felt too warm, as if he were standing too close to a large oven. His clothes felt too tight, like a boa squeezing its prey. His heart was hammering against his ribs as raw need pumped through his veins. He didn’t even realize that he was growling until he noticed people turning to stare.
   Hagrid’s hand clamped down on Harry’s shoulder, keeping the boy in place with a vise-like grip. “Easy there, Harry, easy,” the giant murmured. “Rein it in there, son.”
   Harry took a deep breath as he shook his head, fighting to regain control of his own body. He started close his eyes, but quickly reopened them as images of…something flashed across his imagination. The feeling of being suffocated slowly faded away, but the burning sensation continued to linger. “I’m sorry, Hagrid,” the boy panted a moment later. “I don’t know what came over me.”
   Hagrid cracked up. “Son, every man who saw that witch go by was thinking the exact same thing you were! The only difference is they’re not dragkyn such as yourself. With increased power comes increased appetites. You’ll learn to control them, in time.”
   “But…”
   Hagrid knelt down and whispered something in Harry’s ear. The boy’s cheeks immediately turn the sort of color normally reserved for agonizing sunburns. Thin wisps of steam curled up from his noise, causing Hagrid to roar with laughter.
   “I told you you weren’t the only one having that sort of thought!” Hagrid wiped a tear from his eye. “You’ll get used to it, though. Boys your age are pitching tents in the front of their robes all the time. Can’t help it, not really. You see a pretty girl and the body knows what it wants, even if your mind has no words for it. Speaking of robes, we best get you over to Madam Malkin’s. You’ll be needing a set for school.”
   The giant led the still flushed boy to one of the more respectable looking shops. The simple wood front had been painted a forest green, while plain gold letters declared, “MADAM MALKIN’S FINE ROBES AND CAPES”. A single pane of glass allowed window shoppers to glance into the store, with six mannequins occupying the space immediately behind the glass. The pair on the left were dressed in fancy work robes, and their arms and torsos moved and twisted as if they were carrying on a rather animated conversation. The same went for the pair on the right, who were dressed in school robes. The mannequin in the center was working through a complicated dance routine, the better to show off the multihued cloak flowing out from its shoulders. The remaining mannequin was mounted on a broom hovering a few feet above the other five, its own cloak rippling in what appeared to be a strong wind. Harry found himself staring at the last one, imagining what it would be like to have the wind whistling across his skin, His reverie was broken when Hagrid pushed him towards the door. “Go on, get inside. Getting fitted should take you a bit, so I’m going to see if I can get a few errands out of the way. Just wait here if you get done before I get back.”
   The interior of the shop was a bit darker than it had appeared from the outside. Rack after rack of black robes pressed against one another, as if they were intent on absorbing every last bit of light that might stray past the door. The heat was stifling, and Harry could feel beads of sweat beginning to pop out along his forehead.
   “Hello?” Harry tried to poke his head out over the racks of clothing, but only managed to discover more racks. “Is there anybody here?”
   “We’re back here, darling!” The voice that answered was sweet and grandmotherly. “The fitting rooms are all the way in the rear!”
   Harry followed the shouted instructions, pushing his way through the racks like an explorer braving virgin Amazonia, only with a smaller chance of being devoured by wild animals. (There had been one rack that rustled as Harry approached, and he could have sworn that he heard a disappointed growl as he detoured around it, giving that particular rack and extra wide berth.) After a brief hike he discovered the back of the store, where three other people were waiting.
   The first was an old woman, the same who had called out to him. She wore the only color Harry had spotted since entering the store, a deep green robe that matched the paint on the outside of the store. She was bustling back and forth around a young boy who looked to be about Harry’s age, snatching at the various scissors, needles, threads, and measuring tapes that were obediently bobbing along behind her. The boy, whose skin was so pale and his hair so white that he could have vanished in the smallest of snow flurries, looked incredibly put upon as he stood with his arms outstretched so that the old witch could work on the robe he was wearing. Standing behind them was a young woman holding a bundle of cloth over one arm and a sewing basket in her other hand. She was pretty in a common sort of way, with long, faded blonde hair, blue eyes, and an oval shaped face. She wore her own robes a bit looser than her grandmother, so that it was more like an overly large jacket than proper clothing. The tank top she had on underneath had a modest neckline, and her denim shorts did a fine job of exposing her legs without being immodest. Her face was still, so still she looked almost bored, but Harry could tell she was planning murder from the way her eyes glared dagger at the pale boy’s back.
   Not that Harry could blame her. He hadn’t been back there for more than half a minute and he already wanted to kill the white-haired boy. He didn’t even know why. One look and he just wanted to rip the boy’s throat out with his teeth. Harry kept clenching and unclenching his fists as the surge of irrational hatred poured through him.
   “Are you by yourself, child?” The old woman didn’t bother to look up.
   “Um.” Harry forced himself to stop staring at the other boy. “My guardian went to do some errands while I was getting fitted.”
   “As long as he gets back her by the end,” Madam Malkin replied. “What’s your name, child?”
   “Harry, ma’am.”
   “Here for your school robes, Harry?”
   “Yes, ma’am.”
   “Best time of year from my end.” The old lady grinned as she finally turned to look at him. “Why don’t you hop up on that stool there? Flora, put all that down and start taking his measurements. I’ll be done here soon enough.”
   “But Father says that all my robes are to be personally tailored!” the pale boy said crossly. “You’ve only just started this one!”
   “They will be personally tailored,” Madam Malkin snapped. “All my robes are personally tailored, which Lucius Malfoy perfectly well knows, boy. That doesn’t mean that you need to be in each and every last one of them for me to do it! Don’t think you can bully me around by evoking his name! Now, you just stand there nice and patiently while I go get a few more needles to hold this hemline in place.”
   The boy sneered at Madam Malkin’s back as she got up and dusted off her knees, but she pointedly ignored him as she stalked off into the rack jungle. The boy then turned to Harry, who had to resist the urge to reach over and smack him. “So, you’re starting at Hogwarts as well?”
   Harry nodded, not trusting his tongue. Flora covered for him by suddenly wrapping the measuring tape around his throat.
   The pale boy shrugged, but continued with what was obviously a well rehearsed speech. “Good! My name is Draco Malfoy-Black, heir to Clan Black and scion of the Malfoy family. I’ll be in Slytherin, of course, and Father says I ought to be running the Castle inside of a week. In order to do that I will need a strong group of loyal supporters to make sure things are running smoothly when I’m not around. What do you say, are you in?”
   Harry froze as Draco held out his hand for Harry to shake. In Harry’s opinion the only reason he could possibly want to take Draco’s hand was if he was planning on ripping the other boy’s arm off and beating him to death with it. Flora saved him again by wrapping the measuring tape around his shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides. Unfortunately, that still left Harry’s mouth free.
   “I’m sorry, I’ve never heard of you before.”
   Draco’s face finally gained some color as his cheeks grew hot with anger. “Never heard of me? How can you claim to have never heard of me? Why, the Daily Prophet runs a weekly article on me! I’m the Heir to Clan Black! I am Dragkyn, and all will submit, so DON’T YOU DARE TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!”
   Flora had made the mistake of stepping between the two boys at just that moment, and turned towards Harry so that she could measure his in-seam. Draco’s foot snapped out and caught Flora right between the shoulder blades. The shop girl let out a cry that was half surprise, half pain as she toppled towards Harry. There was no way for her to catch herself other than grabbing Harry, which would have risked knocking him off the stool and injuring him as well. Instead she twisted to the side, trying to avoid knocking over the stool, and slammed her shoulder into the hard floor.
   Harry’s world went red and he launched himself at Draco. There was no logic behind it, just instinct. Some small, primal part of his brain had decided that Flora belonged to him, or that at least it was something worth pursuing. It had also recognized Draco as a fellow dragkyn, and it recognized a threat when it saw one. Draco’s attack on Flora had hammered the switch connecting “threat” to “danger”.
   It was Draco’s turn to freeze as Harry’s roar of challenge rattled the entire store. Then again, Harry would have been surprised if he had been conscious of the of the sound that had just come from his throat. Harry tackled Draco, hitting the upper class twit just above the waist. Harry rode Draco down to a painful landing on the shop’s carpet. The floor beneath was stone, not wood, and Draco would have screamed in pain if Harry’s weight hadn’t driven the breath from his lungs.
   Draco flailed as he tried to get out from under Harry, but the Heir to Clan Black had never struggled a day in his life. He had never had to, as everyone just automatically obeyed out of fear of what his father would do, or what Draco might do when he was older. Still, it would have worked if Harry had been entirely human.
   But Harry wasn’t entirely human. He was dragkyn, same as Draco, which made their strength relatively equal. Unlike Draco, however, Harry had a lifetime’s worth of experience being bullied by his cousin and his cousin’s friends. Fighting back had always been sure to get him in more trouble with his aunt and uncle, but it was better than the alternative.
   Harry reared up, his knees planted to either side of Draco’s hips, and proceeded to beat the ever loving shit out his opponent. BAM-BAM-BAM. Harry’s fists fell Thor’s hammer on Loki’s skull, busting Draco’s lip and blacking his eyes. Blood splattered across Harry’s knuckles as Draco’s nose crunched flat. It very much looked like Harry was about to kill Draco if he continued.
   “Get off my son!”
   The next thing Harry knew the world was spinning around him as he bounced off the wall of the fitting area. He’d felt something hit him, but it was nothing compared to the baseball bat that had broken his arm when he was ten. Harry landed in a crouch, one hand holding the side of his stomach where he had been struck. His skin felt cold to the touch, and when he glanced down he was surprised to see that a hole had been blasted through his shirt. The skin underneath was gone, replace by a patch of silver, overlapping scales slightly wider than the hole.
   Harry glanced up at the man who had attacked him, and immediately recognized him as Draco’s mysterious father. All the clues were there; the white hair, the beak-like nose, the overwhelming sense of ego-drive superiority. The man was still holding a wand on Harry, and the only reason it appeared he hadn’t used it yet was because both Flora and Madam Malkin were pointing their wands right back at him.
   “And what is the meaning of this?” Lucius demanded, turning his head just far enough that he could keep an eye on Harry while making it plain that he was talking to Madam Malkin. “I left my son in your care, madam, and return to find him being assaulted by some ruffian. Frankly, I expected better of you.”
   “And your son struck my granddaughter,” Madam Malkin retorted. “I would say I expected better of him, but then he is your son.”
   “Watch your tone, woman!” Lucius hissed. “I would be careful with your words or I’ll-”
   “You’ll do not one bloody thing, Malfoy,” Madam Malkin tsked. “Or do you really think it will go all that well for you when it comes out the reason you went after me is because your son got into a fight with Harry Potter?”
   Lucius eyes narrowed as his head whipped back around to Harry. His next word came out as a deadly hiss. “Potter.”
   Harry couldn’t help it. He grinned. “Yes, that would be my name.”
   Lucius stood up straight and carefully slipped his wand back into his robes. He snapped his fingers and ordered, “Come, Draco. We’re leaving.”
   “But, Father…” Draco whined. He was still sitting on the floor, and blood was still trickling down his face.
   “Now!” Lucius bellowed. Draco quickly scampered back to his feet and hurried to stand behind his father. He glared at Harry, who replied by just smiling even more. It was the best way to rub in the fact that Draco had just gotten his ass kicked.
   Lucius turned to Madam Malkin. “I expect the robes no later than Tuesday. If I have them by then, I will consider this entire affair…forgotten.”
   Madam Malkin waited until both Malfoys had departed before swearing under her breath. “That bastard! He knows I need at least ten days to finish my orders! Now I’ll have to bump several other people from the queue.” She grimaced and shook her head, then let out a long sigh. “Well, best get started then. Flora, why don’t you finish up with Harry, while I go get started on this.”
   “Sure, Gramma,” Flora said as she gave Harry a grin of her own. She walked over and right the step stool he had been standing on, motioning for him to get back in position. Harry did as he was told, but instead of reaching for her measuring tape, Flora reached for the hole in his shirt. Harry tried not flinch as her fingers gently touched his skin. It wasn’t so much that his side hurt - it didn’t - but the fact that the scales that had protected him a moment ago seemed to have vanished, leaving Flora touch soft, warm skin. And with the extra height granted by the stool Harry had a commanding view down the front of her shirt. Which, when added to the fact that his blood was still up from his fight with Draco, meant he was quickly getting ready to go camping.
   “Oh!” Flora gasped as she noticed the rapidly expanding bulge in the front of Harry’s jeans. It was also a rather sizeable bulge, and Flora’s eyes grew wide as she watched it swell up even larger. She licked her lips and swallowed. “I expect that can’t be too comfortable, is it?”
   “Um, no.” Harry winced, caught between embarrassment and the desperate urge to relieve some of the pressure. Of course, the only way to do that was to open his pants. “Is there a bathroom I can use…?”
   “I’ve got a better idea,” Flora teased as she reached for the fly of his jeans. “I mean, I never did say thank you for standing up for me back there. And besides, I can’t take a proper measurement if everything’s not the way they’re supposed to be. So just consider this excellent customer service.”
   Flora hastily tugged at his zipper, entirely aware that it was possible her grandmother might return at any moment. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that Harry wasn’t wearing any underwear; the Dursley’s had always considered that to be an indulgence as far as he was concerned, and after a while Harry had just grown used to going commando. Now it was working to his favor, as it meant there was no awkward fumbling as Flora reached for his cock. She simply pushed the front of his jeans to the side and let all fourteen glorious inches spring free.
   “Wow,” Flora breathed as she got her first look at Harry’s magnificent dick. She had seen larger, but only as the result of some of her classmates screwing up engorgement charms. Harry’s was simply beautiful. She reached up with both hands and wrapped her fingers around his shaft, but even then the swollen purple head remained exposed above her grip. There was a diamond shaped patch of scales just below his frenulum and when she ran her thumb over it Harry shivered and gasped, “Oh god!”
   “Hmmm, you like that, do you?” Flora giggled as Harry nodded enthusiastically. She started stroking his cock with her right hand, adding a little twist every time she reached the top and bottom of his shaft, while her left hand cupped and fondled his testicles. She didn’t really squeeze, but more just sort of rolled them back and forth across the palm of her hand.
   Harry tilted his head back and moaned. It was his first time with a girl, first time being touched really, and it just felt incredible. She was holding him just tight enough for friction to warm things up, and every time she crossed that patch of scales it set little bursts of pleasure popping up and down his spine. His cock would spasm in time with her touch, adding more to the precum she was using as lube.
   “You have such a pretty dick,” Flora said as she started to stroke him even faster. “I just love the way it feels in my hand. Its so hard, and sooo thick. I’d love to know what it feels like to have this stuffed up my cunny. Merlin, you would just split me wide open wouldn’t you?”
   “Flora…”
   “It’s a pretty little thought, isn’t it?” Flora cooed. She let go of his sack and used her free hand to pull down the front of her tank top, flashing Harry her tits. “I bet that’s what you really want, isn’t it? To see this lovelies bouncing up and down as you shove this bad boy deep into my tight little twat? Just pounding me over and over until I’m screaming your name as you pump me full of your spunk. God, its getting me wet just thinking about it.”
   “Oh, god,” Harry moaned. Every word was putting a new picture in his head, but the last just too much. He could feel his cum boiling up his shaft and there was no stopping it. “Flora!”
   “Do it!” Flora cried. Her hand was a blur as his cock trembled and shook in her grasp. Her thumb pressed hard against the patch of his scales as she aimed his cock at her tits. A fountain of white fluid gushed from between her fingers, spraying across her naked skin like an exploding bottle of pop. Thick globs of cum splattered across her chest, leaking down between her tits and dripping off her puckered nipples. Harry managed a dozen good shots before his orgasm started to slow, but it still took half a dozen more before the last little drop had oozed out across her knuckles.
   “Wow,” Flora said breathlessly a few moments later. She looked down at the mess covering her chest and shook her head. Mess was the only real way to describe it. She reached for a scrap of fabric and started to wipe herself clean, only to realize the piece she was holding wasn’t nearly big enough. She wiped up a little bit more, than dropped it and reached for a larger bolt.
   “Wow,” Harry echoed. It came out more as a wheeze. He dropped onto the stool in a sitting position, as his legs suddenly felt very weak. “Just…wow.”
   “A bit backed up there, were you?” Flora asked with a smile.
   “I guess, I don’t know.” Harry shook his head. “This was my first time.”
   “First time with a girl, you mean.”
   “I mean my first time, first time,” Harry admitted.
   “You mean you never…?” Flora frowned in disbelief.
   “My aunt and uncle were fairly strict,” Harry explained. “It didn’t seem worth the trouble.”
   Flora pouted at him, then leaned over and kissed him on the top of the head as she popped her tits back into her shirt. “Well, if you’re lucky maybe this won’t be the last time. I’ve got my final year at Hogwarts this year, so maybe if we run into each other we can have some more fun, eh?”
   “You’re having me on!” Harry insisted as he fumbled with his pants.
   “What, you think I was kidding about seeing what it would be like to have that inside of me?” Flora winked at Harry. “I wasn’t lying about that. You are quite clearly a very special boy. I’m not making any guarantees, mind you, but a girl would be mad to pass up the chance! No stop gawking, before a fly wanders in.”
   Harry quickly shut his mouth. Then he opened it again to say, “So what happens next?”
   “Next you get right back up on that stool!” Flora laughed and flicked the tape measure at him. “What, you think because I gave you a quick handy that we were done here? My grandmother would kill me if I don’t get this done. Now raise those arms up…”
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Chronicle of Scales: Dragkyn Rising