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Night Flight	By : Massanie Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 77567 -:- Recommendations : 6 -:- Currently Reading : 30
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me and I'm not making any money with this story

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CHAPTER 4: With New Eyes

CHAPTER NOTES:

Thanks to all who read and especially to all those who reviewed!

I hope you’ll all enjoy this chapter!

“Ouch! Potter!” Draco cursed, rubbing his sore jaw while his attacker scrambled backwards, or at least tried to: unused to the added weight on his back and still blind, he almost lost his footing and toppled backwards but he managed to catch himself just in time; courtesy of the added organ of equilibrium in his hip. Sometimes Draco hated nature, especially when it worked for his enemy and against him...

Irritated, he watched as his school-nemesis came to a halt in front of them with slightly spread wings, uncertainly but silently standing there, probably trying to pick out where the other two men were from sound alone. ‘As if he would be able to fend us off right now even if he knew where we are’ Draco thought.

“Brilliant, Draco! Very helpful!” Blaise hissed in annoyance, making Potter flinch and retreat further backwards. And just as if that was also Draco’s fault, Blaise glared at his fiancé somewhat fiercely and rolled his eyes as Draco cocked his head and answered with an indignant “What!? He hit me!”

Potter squared his shoulders and screeched at them, outraged at the accusation, the cry sounding very much like that of a furious eagle and nothing like the sweet song-bird trills that had escaped him earlier. His lips moved as if to form a litany of swearwords while his hands flew to the pockets of his jeans, frantically searching for his wand that was not there, only managing to tear the worn fabric with his long talons and he hissed as he accidentally cut himself open. Blood seeped out from the hidden wounds, staining the blue jeans.

Immediately Blaise was in front of him, grasping both of his wrists in a bruising grip.

“Stop that, idiot!” he hissed as the former Gryffindor began to struggle, pulling with angry determination to free his wrists, putting his whole weight behind it now that he thought to know his enemies’ identity.

Still, Blaise with his taller and more muscular build was more than capable to handle the smaller Vykélari submissive and he held tight for a few moments, before releasing his hold quite abruptly. With a look of utter surprise on his expressive face, Potter stumbled backwards and fell against the wall with a pained expression as his wings were twisted beneath him. Disoriented and struggling for air, he didn’t put up much of a fight until it was practically too late and Draco and Blaise had pushed forwards and pressed him against the rough wallpaper of the hospital room, using their weight to immobilize the emerald, shimmering appendages as best as they could while holding Potter’s forearms in a tight grip against the wall, rendering the poisonous talons useless.

“Potter, you nitwit, stay still!” Draco growled dangerously against the younger man’s ear, his free hand wandering to the other’s waistband, pushing it down a bit, hoping to not see the clear, yellowish liquid that would mean Potter had managed to poison himself.

Merlin, it had been so long since a Vykélari submissive had come into his inheritance, he simply didn’t know if there was a natural antidote and if not, how to treat it…

Harry blinked for a moment, too stunned to really move. Was his school nemesis really trying to get into his pants!?

It didn’t take long after the thought formed in his mind that he started to struggle in earnest. He couldn’t believe it: Malfoy had cursed him, kidnapped and tortured him and now he molested him? Was there no limit to that bastard’s depravity? And he had witnessed for him, for god’s sake!

He screeched once more in a fit of rage, unable to throw his attackers off, but damn it, Harry had never been brought down by a Malfoy, and that was a fine tradition he didn’t intend on breaking with now! It would have been easier though had he been able to goad the prat with words or even see the damn blonde…

Still, this was just so not going to happen, whatever he had to do!

Whipping his head to the side from where he had heard Malfoy’s voice, he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of the hand that had closed around his wrist with all his might. Immediately the sickeningly metallic tang of blood exploded in his mouth just as Malfoy started to curse and rant and growl next to him.

But before he could force the blonde prick to let go of his hand, someone grabbed his neck painfully tight and Harry felt the threat of something razor sharp against the skin of his throat and he froze, not daring to move for fear of being gutted.

“Let go!” The other man in the room hissed and he sounded so damn forceful and strong-willed; not at all like someone who was bribed into a friendship with the Malfoy heir like his usual cronies, defending him for solely egoistic purposes. No, that man – whoever it was, because Harry had only recognized Malfoy’s tell-tale sneer – he did it out of a determination that was fed by honest and deep feelings, maybe even love. Harry didn’t dare to disobey or to try something more extreme, not willing to find out what the other was prepared to do.

Malfoy immediately snatched his hand away and Harry could hear him cast a healing charm, which was unfortunate as Harry had been sure he had gotten Malfoy’s wand-arm and that his captor might at least be somewhat incapacitated by that injury. Obviously not.

Harry held his breath, trying not to move and after a moment that cruel sharp something was taken away, replaced with soft fingertips that rewarded his obedience with the now almost familiar magical touch that had soothed him multiple times during the last minutes. And really, Harry didn’t want to react to it, but it made the skin on his neck tingle pleasantly and something inside of him stirred and purred, welcoming that unknown power and merging with eagerly.

“Sshh, that’s it, Potter. We won’t hurt you.” The man whispered against his ear and involuntarily, Harry felt his muscles relax. Unbidden words rushed through his mind, telling him that Malfoy and the other could not be the same ones who had caused him so much pain earlier, they had come afterwards, they had freed him and whatever they had done, they had given him back his hearing. He needn’t fear them, needn’t fight them. They would help him.

He was not really sure if that realisation was his own or another’s, planted into his mind, but it didn’t seem to matter as Harry was lulled by that comforting, protective power that seemed to have thrown a veil of sorts over him, weighting down on his limbs and fogging his mind. Suddenly his body seemed aware of the long hours he had been awake now, of how exhausted he was both physically and emotionally and in need of help; and he felt tired and calm and so very sleepy and strangely enough: safe.

Until another thought invaded his mind unbidden: if that comforting magic had come from Malfoy and that other man it meant that yes, they had been around him while he was bound, and yes they had cut away whatever had held him down but they had touched him throughout the procedure! Stroked his limbs and … had one of them really run his fingers through his hair? Malfoy? And Malfoy had tried to get into his pants!

He shuddered and began his struggles anew, weakly at first and nowhere near as desperate or as panicked as before, but still: he’d be damned if he let them molest him just like that!

Slowly he fought himself through the heavy grogginess that had filled him so completely, allowing him to think clearer and to recognize the way his feelings and thoughts had been tampered with just a moment ago. Anger rose in him; he hated the kind of mind-games Malfoy was trying to play with him…

He fought harder, wanting nothing more than to get away.

“Potter, stop it!” Malfoy growled and the grip on his wrists tightened. “We need to check if you managed to poison yourself with your talons!”

Harry froze. T A L O N S ? What the hell was the git talking about?

Carefully Harry bent his fingers towards the heel of his hand until something sharp and thin like a needle touched his skin. Oh, god, Malfoy was right… he had claws!

He gasped, or at least thought he did, but only a small chirp escaped his mouth, making him flinch and a terrible idea struck him: someone must have transfigured him! Maybe one of Voldemort’s former supporters wanting to take revenge... maybe he had been given a potion without noticing it and now he was becoming a monster!

“There is not much skin and flesh over the bone at this position. Even if you’re not poisoned, we need to see how deep the wound is.” That other man said, his voice deep and calm and Harry felt himself nodding, still busy trying to digest his newfound realisation. He had to get to Headmistress McGonagall; if there was someone skilled enough in transfigurations to change him back, it had to be his former transfiguration teacher. Surely she would know what to do.

He only needed to get away from his current companions … or captors? Which lead him to the question: why the hell were they here in the first place?

“Good.” The man murmured, and Harry could almost feel the smirk in his voice and he wanted nothing more than to disagree: if he should have described his current situation, ‘good’ would probably be the last word coming to his mind…

“Draco will have a look at those wounds now. I trust you won’t hit, bite or scratch him anymore?”

Oh right, he had bitten Malfoy… of all the things he could have done he had bitten him? He honestly didn’t really know what had come over him.

Harry shook his head, trying to look nonchalant, but quite sure that he wasn’t succeeding with his face heating up like this. Well, biting had seemed to be a good idea at the time, and he couldn’t really regret it either; his possibilities had been sadly limited…

The grip on his forearms loosened and he was being led forwards a bit, away from the wall so that whatever was sprouting out of his back wasn’t cramped up anymore. Harry almost sighed in relief, he would have, too, had not slender fingers at that very moment started to push down his jeans once more; only on the right side of his hip and just enough to bare the angry scratches he had inflicted upon himself, but still he felt even more uncomfortable than he had at the beginning of the second task in the trimagic tournament as he had stood in front of the whole school in his wet clothing, being laughed and stared at; then at least Harry had been sure that most eyes would be on Fleur and Cedric who in his opinion had cut much more of a fine figure than he could ever have. True, that had made him quite self-conscious but still…

What had he been thinking about? Oh, god, yes … touching: this was Malfoy, and he was touching him in a not so appropriate way! The tips of those slender fingers ghosted over his hip-bone and Harry honestly didn’t know what to think of the weird tingling sensation they left behind.

“Your magic seems to deal quite well on its own: it already healed the cuts…”

Harry couldn’t follow past the first two words and forgetting everything else for that moment, he reached down to lay his hands on Malfoy’s, careful not to scratch him. The hand that inspected his wounds stilled and Harry moved his face so that he thought he might have been looking at Malfoy, wishing he could see him, see what he saw…

“What?” the prat asked and Harry could only answer with a quiet half-sob-half-trill.

His magic.

Draco had said his magic was there. It was not gone, it was there, working for him… but… why then couldn’t he access it?

“Potter?” Malfoy asked again but Harry shook his head, removed the blonde’s hand from his hip and awkwardly pulled his trousers up again, hating the fact that he was unable to answer, to ask questions of his own and to tell the idiot to stop touching him!

“Okay, fine. Listen, Potter…” Draco snarled.

“Draco.” The other man cut in, his tone warning the blonde to be silent, before he addressed the former Gryffindor. “Potter, do you want to lie down again?”

Lying down on his stomach with two molesting Slytherins in the same room? Harry shook his head, tapping his forehead at the speaker with an incredulous expression.

“Right,” the man snorted “well, then… let me… just stay still for a moment… Draco, help me…” A second later two pairs of hands took hold of the appendages on his back, moving and folding them until Harry felt a feathery blanket laying itself around his shoulders and he was able to straighten up without problems, the added weight on his back more evenly distributed around his body axis.

He absolutely refused to acknowledge what those feathers seemed to imply.

“That should be more comfortable. I remember that I found it difficult at the beginning to keep my balance if I kept my wings unfolded.” Oh Merlin, Harry thought, blanching, it was true: he had wings! And that third man spoke as if it was just natural and furthermore as if it was permanent … Harry really felt like crying, or better yet: screaming.

“Blaise, we really should proceed. We have three and a half hours until the moon sets.”

Harry huffed in frustration, upset that he didn’t understand what was going on, and unbeknownst to him, the feathers in his hair raised with his discomfort, letting him appear slightly taller than he actually was and making Draco and Blaise smirk at each other in amusement. It was so easy to read someone who was unaware of his body language.

“You are currently receiving your inheritance, Potter. Do you know what that means?” Draco asked, the smile in his voice still apparent; but he made it a rhetoric question, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “Of course not. The male Potter line carries a set of genes encoding different characteristics of a magical creature, a Vykélari to be more specific. Unfortunately your ancestors were not powerful enough to even potentially survive the transformation, so the gene expression was suppressed. Be that as it may, it seems you are powerful enough and are currently going through your first transformation. Could you follow me so far?”

Harry nodded, dazedly, but inwardly he felt as if his world had been changed into a sphere of millimetre-thin glass that was cracked by his many questions: would he regain control over his magic, would he ever see again? How would he look like? He didn’t really care about the latter but still he didn’t want to be stared at any more and he didn’t know how Ginny would react…

Only one false answer to any of these questions might shatter it all. And that made him feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

“When the full moon rose this evening, your magic drew back from your control, so you wouldn’t exhaust it, and shattered all those senses that would need to be rebuilt. Now it is basically learning how your new sensory organs should look like, it feels them out so you will be able to transform subconsciously without even thinking about what exactly your magic should do. It has already started to do that, didn’t it? You probably can taste and smell again, though not really much better than before and you should have a very good sense of balance right now and your tactile sense should be rather sensitive.”

Harry nodded a little bit more confidently. What Malfoy had told him so far sounded rather reassuring, as if everything he had lost would return in some way or another, and his words implied that he might be able to transform back … and who would have thought that Malfoy could explain so well without sounding too haughty?

“But your hearing and vision are rather different and your magic needs help to find out what exactly it is supposed to do…”

“I had it use my own aural sense as a model.” The other – Blaise, Harry remembered – continued. Wasn’t Blaise Zabini one of Malfoy’s more silent, more intelligent cronies during school? He would have to ask Ginny…

”We will have to do the same with your vision. After that your magic will close itself off and expand your magical core. For this purpose it will exhaust itself. You will fall unconscious and suffer from magical exhaustion for a few days. That is absolutely normal. When you awake and your magic has replenished itself, you will be able to transform back into your human body. Got that?”

Harry nodded again, his breathing a little bit fast but still he felt much better. He would be able to transform back. Everything was only a terminable change.

And now he at least knew what was happening – if those two Slytherins weren’t lying to him, which was rather unlikely seeing as Malfoy owed him a life debt. Ron had always said that purebloods took life debts quite seriously. That was probably the reason why they were helping him now: they were paying off Malfoy’s debt.

It was a logical explanation, one he could hold on to. Now he only needed to endure whatever the next hours held for him; only three and a half hours, Malfoy had said. Nothing he couldn’t take and then he would go back to the Weasleys and together with Ron and Hermione he would learn to live with whatever this so-called inheritance might entail.

Determined, Harry reached out into the direction where he had heard Blaise’s voice coming from, feeling for him. His wrist was grasped though, before he had encountered anything but thin air.

“Careful, Potter! You don’t want to injure anyone with those talons now, do you?”

Harry shook his head but gestured towards his eyes with is free hand. God, not being able to speak was so frustrating… fortunately the other two men seemed to have understood what he wanted: One of them came to stand behind him again, laid one hand on his forehead and guided his head backwards until it rested on a hard, muscular shoulder. Harry frowned for a moment, becoming aware that he must be at least a few inches smaller.

Then the slender hands wound around his chest and grasped his wrists, crossing them in front of him, holding them tightly. Licking over his lips nervously, Harry wondered if he should allow himself to be restrained that way but he reminded himself that they had done it before when giving him back his hearing and it had proven to be a good decision: he would have tried to pry his head free of Blaise’s hands otherwise and stop that maddening itching. He might have severely injured himself with his talons. And still there was the reassuring matter of the life-debt between them.

So he allowed it, but he tensed nonetheless, especially when feeling the silken material of the other’s robes against his bare back.

“Relax!” Draco whispered against his skin, his breath tickling the skin on Harry’s throat, as his head was still lying on the blonde’s shoulder, and Draco’s voice sounded strangely deep and breathless, making Harry shiver.

“And try to keep as still as possible” And Draco smirked, he must be smirking, Harry thought, and they must have noticed that Draco’s closeness and the way the blonde’s body had folded around his naked torso made his skin crawl, not in an entirely negative way. And gods, it was all so much more intense because he couldn’t see a damn thing!

Then cool fingers touched his eye-lids, making them flutter close in reaction and once again that warm feeling of familiarity spread into his body. That pulsating, powerful something that he now guessed must be his magic – if Malfoy’s explanations were anything to go by – reacted immediately, rushing out of his body, following the gradient of Blaise’s own magic into the other man, leaving Harry feeling empty and weak and he would have slumped down if not for Draco’s hold on him.

But the feeling of vulnerability was easier to bear now that he knew what was happening and who was there with him, even if he would never have thought of them as allies.

Then suddenly power flooded him again, dancing along his skin for a moment before penetrating it, invading him, rushing along his bone structure upwards, along his spine, into the back of his skull and he gasped, or rather chirped again at the strange, tingling sensation. It flew along his cheek bones, vanishing into the eyeballs. Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

For a moment nothing happened and only Harry’s rapid panting permeated the cool air in the hospital room, before Harry reared up, pressing back against Malfoy’s chest, gritting his teeth against the unbearable itching in the back of his eyes where his magic regrew his retina.

The transformation be damned, he needed it to stop before he lost his mind! He writhed and squirmed in Malfoy’s arms, trying to free his hands and tear and scratch until it stopped itching! An eagle-scream tore from his lips, gaining in volume and pitching until he didn’t have any more air.

After some minutes, as suddenly as it had come the feeling subsided a bit as his magic drew back into his skull, forming the optic nerve in its wake. Harry swallowed, his throat dry, too exhausted to really feel any relief.

“Open your eyes, Harry.” Draco whispered into his ear and Harry complied, not even realising that the Slytherin had called him by his surname. His eyelids felt heavy as they fluttered open and he frowned: everything was white, one single surface without any structure or pattern to it. Had something gone wrong?

He chirped questioningly, a little bit insecure. In front of him, Blaise grasped his shoulders to steady him, while Draco released his hold and moved around him. “You’ll love this” the blonde said, no malice or mocking in his voice.

And then colour exploded in his field of vision, the area parting into a rough mosaic of white background with two green figures in front of him, the image refining itself more and more, gaining in detail and three-dimensionality and after endless hours of darkness it was breath-taking and wonderful and he felt tears gathering in his eyes, spilling over and running down his cheeks.

Now he could make out Malfoy’s pale skin and hair and it seemed to shine in a colour he had no name for and he saw the black, short hair and olive skin of Zabini that, too, was just more in colour than he could ever have imagined, streaked with various shades of that unnameable colour.

More and more details appeared, and Harry stared and stared, unable to look away as the dark shadows in the eye areas formed into elaborate, half-translucent masks covering the brows and cheekbones; pale white gold crowning Malfoy’s silver eyes and dark bronze lining Zabini’s pools of onyx. Both masks were decorated with swirls of lighter or darker shades; Harry had never seen anything like this.

“Do you like what you see, Potter?” Zabini asked, sounding dead-serious despite his teasing smile.

Harry knew he must look like a complete idiot, staring open-mouthed at the two Slytherins like that, but damn it, they were so freaking handsome and strong with that markings… powerful; and should he even be thinking things like that?

He flushed, lowering his gaze only to feel his chin lifted by Zabini’s gentle, bronzed fingers. “Quite alright, Potter…”

Harry narrowed his eyes. Enough was enough. After all he had been through that night he certainly didn’t need to take their taunting. God, if he could only talk back!

He lifted his clawed hand to slap away Blaise’s hand but he never made it for at that moment Harry crumpled and he would have fallen had not Draco – or was it Zabini – caught him and lowered him to the ground carefully.

“Watch it! It’s alright, remember? Your magical core will now expand itself.”

Harry honestly didn’t believe one moment that that was what was happening to him. He had felt magical exhaustion before and god, this felt as if he was casting a very powerful curse that bled his magic dry… he tried to convey his doubts, shaking his head.

“Sshh.” One of them said and fingers stroked through his hair again. Then everything went black for the second time that night.

Draco grinned at his fiancé “You really are a bastard, Blaise! Teasing him seconds before you knew the last stage of his transformation started.“

“That’s why you love me so much. Besides it was only fair after he teased us the whole time with that body just screaming ‘mark me’.”

Thoughtfully, Draco observed Blaise. “You didn’t change your mind, now, did you? Because biting and hitting me did nothing to endear him to me…”

Blaise chuckled, smiling at his pale-eyed lover and shook his head. “No, I’d always choose you, Dragon if it came to that point. Though I have to admit he is pretty fetching, the transformation did wonders for his appearance. And as for your other objections: You know you would find him utterly, soul-destroyingly boring if he wasn’t behaving like a Hippogriff towards you all the time.”

For a moment, there was silence between them until Draco gave a conceding shrug. What could he say? Blaise was after all right…

“Now let us have that imbecile of a healer clear the hallway of Weasels and take Potter back to the manor. I really don’t fancy explaining to them why and where we are taking their saviour.”

With a wry grin he bowed over the unconscious form of his former school-nemesis and whispered “When next you wake, Potter, you’ll be joining us for a nice little holiday in Italy…”

He still didn’t know how he thought about that.

“We will have a hell of a job trying to keep him there, you realise that?” Blaise said as he bowed down to pick up Potter’s unconscious form.

“Yeah, I know…” Draco conceded, standing up and moving towards the door to inform that Cowen. “But whatever happens and wherever he’ll go, in the end we’ll always be the first he’s ever seen with his new eyes, before even seeing himself… he’ll never forget that.” And with those smug words and a smirk on his lips, Draco left.

CHAPTER END NOTES:

So, I hope you liked the chapter. The next one will already be playing in Italy and Harry will be a little bit more secure, being able to see again and all that...

As always, reviews are very much appreciated.
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Night Flight