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Chameleon's Song	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 132344 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 16
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
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AN: Okay, so to clear things up – Yes, Nymphadora Tonks is Snape’s child, Remus is the father of Terry Boot, and Sirius has a daughter named “Patsy”. This chapter should explain that in more detail.

misswarchan: Thank you, so much. Oh, and I do have a FF account, though it isn’t linked to this, so I doubt it would help much. I only have one story up there, and it’s a Fruits Basket fic. Here’s the URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/684866/Wherdatcomfrom

unneeded: Oh, you’ll be fine.   Not all of the sibs are current students, nor are all of those affected related to him. And he only has seven brothers and sisters, so that would be close to the amount of liaisons that Potter Sr. had.

Scipia: Glad that it meets your approval. Don’t think I’ll be able to go into too much detail, though.

Her Royal Goddess: I’ve listed the sibs, so far, at the top for you. I’ll do the same when I update with any more, Kay?

AmityVerity: The twins are in this fiction, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?

Chapter Three: Veela

‘Veela or Vila: The Ultimate Aphrodite

The Veela can also perform a sort of shape-shifting, usually appearing as alluringly beautiful humans, but also taking the form of terrifyingly dangerous bird-like creatures. The Veela have one of the largest wingspans of all creatures and though not many have been clocked, they are the most powerful and fastest flyers.

Contrary to popular belief, the Veela are not a female dominant or non-male species. The males of the breed are very rare, but have been sighted in the early days of creature research. A male Veela is often territorial and should not be approached near the nest.

The Veela song is said to be the most beautiful music ever heard by mankind and is difficult to resist. A Veela will use it to attract a mate or to draw in its prey. Always approach a Veela with caution, especially when the Veela is in heat, gestating or guarding its young.

The Veela coloring is a distinctive pale skin, blonde hair and blue or grey eyes. T /here have been exceptions, but this normally changes when a Veela reaches maturity. Veela go through their changes early, often between twelve and fourteen years of age, and their wings erupt at the last stage of their divergence. Veela wing feathers range from gold to translucent, the rarest color being a stark white.

Veela bear young in twos or fours, usually not identical births and their mating lasts for two to three days. First matings are always done in flight.

Veela have protected status and may not be captured or caged. This has proven to be a difficult regulation when a Veela is accused of a crime or in need of hospitalization.   Veela are not known to enjoy spending time indoors or underground.

Very few races are capable of male pregnancy, but the veela is an exception. Due to their unique structure they have the most unlimited abilities in this capacity.(See Male Pregnancies)

            The hospital ward was strangely quiet for there being seven students currently housed there. Sirius was huddled near the wall, looking into the room and scanning the beds. Remus stood beside him.

            Harry caught their words as he closed the door, “Which one is she?” Sirius asked.

            “The dark-haired girl, on the left. She is known as Pansy Parkinson.” Remus explained.

            Sirius hissed and turned to his friend. “How did she come to be in the hands of the Parkinsons?” he growled.

            “Your mother bartered her as part of a marriage contract for Regulus. We’re watching her for you, but without James, our hands were tied.” Remus said.

            “Patsy.” Sirius said wistfully, inching forward.

            When he was halfway to the girl’s bed, Harry stepped up to Remus and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna have trouble thinking of Pansy as my sister.” He said.

            “Imagine how she’ll feel about it.” The werewolf rasped through a tight throat.

            “Patsy? Is it you?” Sirius said in a hushed tone, nearly a whisper.

            The girl looked up, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the man. “You’re Sirius Black?” she said in a questioning tone.

            “Yes. I am.” He said hopefully.

            “Why are you here? You’re an escaped convict.” She added, her tone turning to one that conveyed underlying respect.

            “I’m here to see you.” He told her.

            “Me? Why me?” she asked.

            “Because, you’re my child.” his voice was barely the sound of his breath. The words shared only between the few within earshot, him, the girl and the two watchers by the wall. “They took you when I was in prison, but I remember you as a baby. I have pictures of you, when you were newborn and we were together.”

            “There are no pictures of me like that. My parents said they got burned in an accident. I was two.” Pansy argued.

            “They didn’t get you until you were two. I raised you before that. Do you remember any of it?” he said.

            “I don’t . . . don’t think. . . You’re lying. How could you be my father?” She flashed.

            “I remember your eyes. You could make them change, even at two. Can you still make those eyes, Patsy?” Sirius begged.

            Something clicked in Pansy’s face. She looked deeply at him when she heard his question. “What did you call me?”

            “Patsy. That’s your name. Patricia Shaula Black. I called you Patsy.” Sirius’ eyes misted over as he spoke these words. Pansy looked down at her hands.

            “Someone used to call me Patsy. Patsy Bubbles.” She said quietly. “And I called him Woof Woof. My mom said it was my imaginary friend and that I made it up.”

            “That’s me. I’m Woof Woof!” Sirius all but cheered.

            “But why? Why have I been living as a Parkinson if I’m a Black?” She asked him, her eyes pleading.

            “Your grandmother wasn’t proud of my choices. She wanted me to marry Filch’s sister, Liana. I wanted . . .Patsy, I was mated with a Chameleonis. James Potter.” Sirius said.

            “Potter!” Pansy cried.

            “Yes, Patsy Bubbles. You and Harry are brother and sister.” The man said, glancing at his friend and godson. “And you are a Kumiho Adjule. It’s one of the things that are guaranteed from your parents.”

             Pansy stared at him for some minutes, her lips moving, but no sound coming out. She glanced over to where Harry was standing with Remus and scowled. “Did he know this?” she growled out.

             “No, Patsy. He had no idea. He was just as shocked when we told him that he had brothers and sisters. He didn’t know it was you, until we came here.” Sirius took her hands and rubbed them with his thumbs. “I didn’t know where you were until a few minutes before I came here.”

              Pansy looked into the pale blue eyes, open wide in honest entreaty and her Slytherin resolve broke. Tears slipped from her eyes as she clung to the man’s fingers. Finally, she pulled her hand free and threw her arms around her father. “Oh, Daddy!” she cried, and then sobbed out right.

              Harry felt tears of empathy slide down his own cheeks as he watched the scene unfold. He yearned to join the two, but a tap on his shoulder drew his eyes to the werewolf at his side.

             “Come with me. I think they need some time. Besides, I think there is someone else you should meet.” Lupin said.

              Harry followed the man to the west side tower where he stopped in front of a door without a handle or keyhole. A brass knocker in the shape of an eagle asked him what his business was and Remus answered, “I want to speak with my son.” The eagle became still and after a few moments, the door swung open and a smiling Terry Boot stepped out. He rushed to hug the man, crying out as he did, “Dad!” but when he caught sight of Harry, he pushed away. “Professor Lupin, it’s good to see you, Sir.” he corrected himself and Harry chuckled behind his hand.

             “Harry knows, Son. He knows everything.” Remus told his son.

             “Good to see you are well, Harry. I heard about the accident in potions.” Terry said.

              “Yes. It didn’t affect me, but it put a few others in hospital for a day or two.” Harry said.

              “Terry, we need to talk about . . . the Boots. Walk with Harry and I.” Remus said putting an arm around Terry’s shoulder. “We have let you believe that Rona and Robert are your mum and step-father, but actually, she is my sister.”

               “You and your sister?” Terry began but Remus shook his head in amusement. “She’s not my mum?” he asked slowing their walk.

               “No, Son.” Remus said. “You know that I am werewolf, and that you will come to be, as well?” Terry nodded and Remus continued. “As a cross-bred human race, given the right circumstances, we are able to breed as males.”

              “Which circumstances?” Terry asked warily.

              “Some werewolves are born as submissive males, though that is rare, and if they mate with a strong enough dominant , they will conceive. A weak male dominant may only be impregnated if he mates with a dominant from one of three other beast lines. The line that I was joined with was Chameleonis.”

              “So, why wouldn’t I have an equal chance of becoming that?”

              Remus shook his head, “Doesn’t work that way, Son. Chameleonis only reproduce with a human woman. The reason I’m telling you this though is because I think you need to know about your other true parent.”

             “Will I meet . . .” Terry began.

             “No, he’s dead, Terry. He died when you were just a baby.” Remus cut him off. “You see, my mate was James Potter, Harry’s father.”

             Terry tuned to the other boy and stared hard at him. He didn’t speak until after Harry swallowed and croaked out, “I didn’t know.”

             “We’re brothers? Brothers!” Terry crowed happily. “Harry Potter is my brother!” he smiled so brightly that the other boy joined him. When he looked back toward Remus, his look was reproachful. “Dad, you could have told me.”

             Remus blushed, displaying his scars more vividly. “It’s getting late, Son. I’ll come back tomorrow. Let’s get you back to bed.” Remus said turning back toward Ravenclaw’s dorms. Harry was pulled along as Terry grabbed his arm, chattering non-stop on the way. He was filled in on so many details of his brother’s life, that his ears rang and his head throbbed by the time they parted at the door.

             Before he returned to his own dorm, Harry went with Lupin back to the hospital ward. Sirius sat where he had been, near the bed where Pansy Parkinson, AKA Patsy Black, slept. As Remus went to his friend, Harry heard a hissing sound from the left and turned to find Blaise Zabini waving him over. He crossed to the dark teen’s bed.

             “Potter, why isn’t Malfoy here?” Blaise snapped and Harry looked around. “I’m not blind, Potter. He isn’t here!”

             “So?” Harry said turning back to him.

             “He was in the classroom, right behind me.” Blaise said as if this reasoning should clear up any misunderstanding.

              “I don’t know, maybe he wasn’t affected by the potion. Not everyone was.” Harry argued.

              “Of course, not!” Blaise snarled waving an arm around the room. “I know what that potion was, or at least what effect it had. Oh, never mind!” Blaise flopped down on his pillow and turned away from Harry, but before the chosen one could say anything more, Neville called to him.

              “Hey, Nev. How are you doing?” Harry asked as he slid into the chair near his friend’s bed.

              “I’m okay. I’m real sorry, Harry. I guess I messed up real bad, huh?”

              “No, Neville. It’s gonna be fine. You just relax and get better. I’ll see you in a few days, okay? Tell Seamus and Parvati that I’m thinking of them, too.” Other than Neville and Blaise, all of the students in the ward had fallen asleep and Harry patted his friend’s shoulder as he rose to leave. He reached Lupin as the man pulled Sirius to his feet.

              “C’mon, Padfoot. You can come back after you have slept. Let’s get you home, now.” Remus led the near catatonic man to the door that Harry held open for them. “Get to bed, Harry. We’ll be back in the morning and there are still some things we need to discuss. Good-night.” Lupin told him.

             The two men stumbled toward the first floor where Harry was sure there was an available floo for emergencies. He’d seen names of teachers disappear from his map when in an unused classroom near the entrance. He turned to Gryffindor tower and headed off to a good night’s sleep.

*****

             Draco threw a handful of powder from the earthenware jar into the embers of the Slytherin’s fire and called out, “Lucius Malfoy.” The flames roared up, then settled back and soon the face of the man showed in their midst.

            “Draco, what’s wrong?” Lucius asked.

            “There was a potions accident, . . Wormwood’s elixir.” The blond boy stated. The man’s eyes went slightly wider, but he showed no other signs of his reaction. “The Slytherin and Gryffindor classes were together, nine students were . . . affected to various degrees.”

            “You were there?” Lucius asked and his son nodded. “How bad was your reaction?”

           “No worse than I’d expect.” Draco paused before he continued, his jaw working hard to keep his voice calm. “Potter was kept in the room when the others were sent out. He seemed unaffected, but . . . it’s him, isn’t it? He’s the son of the Chameleonis!”

            Lucius looked away for a moment, taking a deep breath and shuddering, slightly. He turned back and nodded once. “Yes, my son.”

            “His father is the man that rejected you. And if my reaction to the potion is as unflawed as I believe it to be, he is the same. He’s a shifter, just like his father!” Draco’s voice was bitter and Lucius’ face became hardened. He would not let his son throw away a perfectly good opportunity.

           “Don’t reject this so quickly, Draco. If he is, then there is hope to recoup from the losses we’ve had. Think of the possibilities. . .”

           “No! I won’t put myself into that position, and you shouldn’t ask me to!” Draco shouted.

           “Draco, do not raise your voice at me! I will be contacting the headmaster in the morning, on behalf of the governors.” Lucius looked away for a minute. “Your mother sends her love. Good-night, Draco.” And the floo connection closed.

            While he had been conversing with his father, Draco had failed to hear the sound of the entrance opening or the faint footfalls of the Slytherin head-of-house. Snape waited until the boy’s conversation was over, and then spoke into the silence as Draco leaned against the hearth, his head bowed.

           “I thought I’d find you here.” Draco jumped at the man’s voice and turned to face him.

           “Yeah, so?”

           “Don’t play stupid with me, Draco Malfoy!”

            “I’m fine.” Draco sniffed haughtily.

            “You should be under supervision with your classmates.” Snape insisted.

           “I will not be corralled in a hospital for the easy perusal of your Chameleonis!”

           “So, you figured it out already.” Snape’s tone was hard to read, but Draco knew for certain that it was dangerous. “And of course, you know better than your instructors. So much better that you be meandering about so that no one knows if you are reacting badly to unknown influences.”

           “I came into my blood growth at fourteen, Professor. I’m done changing and I’ve adjusted to my new life.” Draco insisted.

            “And you think that’s what concerns us? You do realize that Potter was in that classroom as well? A Chameleonis is the only human cross that has never been tested with Wormwood’s elixir. We have no idea what the effects are, or if it will change the reaction of the rest of you, having him there during the exposure.”

            “What could it . . . “ Draco began, but paused as the implications hit him.

             “Yes, now you are considering things. Go, fetch your favorite jammies and your teddy bear and – get – to – the – hospital. I’ve reserved you a bed next to your friend Zabini. He’s been worried sick about you.” Snape sniffed once more as if the idea gave him an allergic reaction.

             “Blaise isn’t worried about me! It’s Potter. He’s been crushing over him ever since they made that first potion together. Blaise is more obsessed with potion making than you, and leave it to Potter to finally become proficient.”

             “Surprising as that seems, he’s worked hard at it. What do you mean about Mr. Zabini?” Draco had started to leave and the man caught his arm to stop him.

             “Just what I said. Blaise is infatuated with all things Potter. He thinks no one knows, and few do, but I’ve been Potter’s rival for six years, so he comes to me to ask most of his stupid questions.”

             “Is that what your fight was about?” Snape asked.

              “I’m tired of it and I snapped. He should be looking for someone else, someone his mother would approve of and leave Potter alone!” Draco sneered the words, but Snape was listening to the intent.

             “I see. Get to bed, Mr. Malfoy.” The professor released the boy and stood with his arms crossed as Draco went to collect his things. The man shadowed him all the way to the hospital ward.

AN2: We just had to have one of these, and who else would fit the description. I know it's becoming cliché and overdone, but hey, it's my fic.
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Chameleon's Song