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The Howling	By : DamagedRose Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3221 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything regarding J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter universe. No profit is being made, and this is for fun only. All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling & Co.

Chapter List
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Beginning Note:

Beta'd by djadict.

I do not own anything regarding J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter universe. No profit is being made, and this is for fun only. All rights reserved to J.K. Rowling & Co.

Chapter Four - Sanctuary

The night was still and quiet, making the sure steps Severus made his way to Albus’ office echo louder than normal. During the summer months the school fell into an almost unnatural quiet that even he, at times, found unnerving. As sour and impersonal as he kept himself, he still associated the school with children running about underfoot. Being filled with children was Hogwarts’ natural state of being. This quiet in the summer was in many ways the quiet before the storm.

“Ginger snap.” Severus had long given up trying to figure out what appeal muggle sweets held with the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Sometimes, it was best to simply accept his small oddities. Frankly, the man was difficult in every way, so there was no sense trying to figure out something so small and insignificant.

He rose up the spiral staircase, aided by the ancient magic embedded in every single stone of the castle and approached his office. After a light rap upon the wooden door he entered into the room Albus seemed to always inhabit, as was only proper. No one held the trust and acceptance to merely enter his office without warning. Not even Severus, whom the old man told often that he was his most trusted. But then, how many others heard those same words?

“Ah, Severus. Come, sit. What news do you have of young Malfoy?”

He took a seat before the Headmaster’s desk, and arranged his long limbs before speaking. With his back straight, robes falling just so and arms resting upon the armrest, he gave the illusion of relaxation. “I have learned... much.” That was an understatement. Long fingers traced invisible and unknown patterns on the surface of the armrest as he chose his words carefully.

“First, I must inform you that Draco, Potter and Ronald Weasley were not the only ones to gain their Fae Inheritance in this generation. There are others from within the school, two from Beauxbatons, and one from Salem. There are four Guardians here as well. They have begun gathering the children together at Draco’s villa, at the insistence of Lucius, for Draco’s safety.”

Having paused for a purpose, Severus studied the wizened face before him. However, as always, Albus Dumbledore kept his features perfectly schooled, only allowing a single brow to rise. “I see. Go on, I can see there is more you have to tell.”

Severus gave a slight nod of his head before he continued. “They are aware of Harry Potter’s awakening, and have requested his presence along with George, Fred and Ronald Weasley. Draco has given permission for them to be present, and as such they can enter the ancient wards surrounding the villa.”

Severus watched as Dumbledore sat back in his chair with steepled fingers. In times like this, Severus wished he could slip undetected into the old man’s mind and see what lay there, what thoughts whirled around, the plans made... However, he was very aware that while he was a Master at the Mental Arts, he was merely a novice compared to someone as controlled and collected as Albus Dumbledore.

“Do you think that this is wise? The moment Harry leaves the protection of the Fidelus, he will be in danger of being detected.”

Severus could not help the slight upturn to one corner of his mouth then, memory of his talk with the four Fae Guardians surfacing. “In their words, ‘This is a polite request. However, they will attend even if our request is refused. Wizarding magic is incapable of stopping us from collecting our charges.’”

There was no outward sign of anger or contempt after he spoke. As always, Dumbledore was composed. Always composed.

“Very well. To ensure the integrity of the Fidelius upon Grimmauld Place, the children will be gathered and will attend. Why have they not requested William or Charles?” Dumbledore asked.

“They have already been spoken to, it seems, when they gained their Inheritance.” Which was not surprising in the least. They were efficient creatures.

“I see. Then I shall gather the children. How will they be transported?”

Severus reached into his pocket then and pulled out a round, smooth stone, turning it in his fingers. “The Guardians informed me that a portkey would suffice. It was prepared before I left.” His eyes rose up as Albus began to reach out for it. Instantly his fingers closed around it before depositing it safely back into his pocket. “They instructed that I be the only one to handle it, and to be the one escorting the children to the Villa.” Severus sighed internally upon seeing the white eyebrow raise once more. “Apparently being Draco’s Godfather gives me certain privileges, such as being one of two wizards they trust being within the wards of the Villa.”

Severus was interested to see a brief flare of irritation from Albus. He committed it to memory immediately, storing it for contemplation at a later date.

“Very well.”

*** POV CHANGE - Draco ***

It was strangely soothing to sit upon the deck and watch the monsoon rain down around them. Long ago special wards had been erected over the villa, protecting it from the horrendous wear and tear the wooden structure would have endured due to the weather, giving it a six foot buffer between the villa and the dome the encased it. The dome was rather ingenious. It kept the villa climate controlled. The humidity was kept to acceptable levels, rain was kept out, nothing beyond a pleasant breeze was allowed past.

So Draco lounged on the deck, relaxing on the long outdoor couch with his eyes upon the storm kept safely away from them. Long fingers trailed through incredibly soft brown hair. The hair belonged to one of his dearest friends. Having gained her own Inheritance, Pansy had been brought to the villa by the guardians, and Draco couldn’t have kept back the relief it brought him to have her close.

Looking down, he smiled slightly at her sleeping form. Like himself, her body had changed. She had grown taller and gained a beautiful willowy build. Although, she’d been displeased by the loss of her hips, she had been fond of her curves. However, that was not the only change. Her hair had softened and become longer, and her eyes had changed to resemble brown crystals. But what was even more enchanting about them, in Draco’s opinion, where their veins of a darker brown that shot through, like the imperfections you would find in an unpolished gem.

His eyes then went back to the stormy scene. To be outside and safely watching a storm, unaffected, as it raged around you... The only sight he thought that could beat this was the one time he visited here when a hurricane had hit. That had been quite the sight.

“She is still sleeping?”

Draco’s body tensed and his hand was on his wand before his eyes locked upon the tall, lithe form of Theo, his only other friend among this madness and change. Like Draco, Theo’s changes had been minimal. His hair stayed the same length, though perhaps softened a touch, and became more golden than ash blond. He grew, but his slender build did not change. The only major difference came in his eyes, which would no doubt match the bluest of skies.

“She is determined to match your control of the wind,” Draco responded, voice kept as soft as Theo’s was.

“She is also not really asleep.” Came a slightly irritated voice.

Draco looked down and smiled into narrowed eyes. He took his hand from her hair and draped his arm on the back of the couch, allowing her to rise into a seated position.

“Sorry, love. I thought you enjoyed being talked about.” Draco smirked, easily falling into a comfortable and familiar role.

“Don’t be a prat, Draco. It is highly unattractive,” Pansy said with a sniff as she righted the light cotton dress she wore.

“Yes, well, before you two start to bicker, you should know you are wanted. It is about time for Potter and his company of misfits to arrive.” If one did not know Theo, then one would not have caught the amusement in his voice that detailed the comment as a joke, one that got an amused smirk from both in his audience.

“And we just would not want to keep them waiting.” Rising up, Draco reached a hand down to Pansy. “Shall we, m’lady?” Having been childhood friends, they had years of acquiring their own brand of amusement and inside jokes. This happened to be one of them. A play back to a time, as young children, when together Draco and Pansy ruled over their very own little kingdom, with their very own little subjects their age. It just so happened that this very villa had been their chosen castle, and Theo had been among the young children visiting and deemed one of their subjects.

It felt good to slip back into the childish role. And it also felt good to, once again, make Pansy smile, instead of all the worrying she had done the previous year.

“Yes, I do believe we shall, m’lord,” Pansy replied, allowing Draco to help her rise up. Then, arm in arm, Draco escorted her into the villa with a chuckling Theo following in their wake.

Since the end of the school year previously, Draco had been here, alone. Hiding from the world, unable to contact anyone. Since Draco had been gifted this Villa when he entered Hogwarts, it was the only safe place. The only place Voldemort could not get at using his father, because it was no longer his father’s villa to control.

That month of being alone after everything that had happened at the end of the last school year had been its own brand of pure hell. Left to his own thoughts, he showed true the sentiment that your very own worst enemy was, in fact, yourself. What was worse, and yet a blessing at times, was that June and July were right in the middle of the Monsoon Season within the Maldives.

Then Faelan had arrived, staying a few short days before leaving. Then, one by one, his villa filled. Newly awakened Fae after newly awakened Fae was brought. Friend and stranger both filling up the wooden structure, taking away his solitude. Taking him from memories of tortures and his failings which haunted him, awake and while asleep.

Entering the main common room, which sat surrounded on three sides by floor to ceiling glass doors, showing the tempest that raged outside, he was met with now familiar faces. Andrew Colt, the American, and oldest of them all, stood looking out to the storm. Taller than the rest of them - save one of their Guardians who stood an inch taller at six feet and eight inches - with broad shoulders cutting down to a trim waist. His chestnut brown hair was cut to his shoulders and pulled back in a queue, which did not hide his pointed ears. Draco knew that it was with golden-brown eyes that he watched the storm outside.

Upon the love seat sat the Metaxas twins; from Greece, they were, perhaps, the oddest of the bunch of them. Not for temperament, as they were easy enough to get on with. But merely because of their very short stature. They both had the slight olive skin tone many from Greece had, along with dark, earthy green eyes and golden strands of hair. Their differences came in the curvaceous and feminine build Chrysanthe possessed, as opposed to the athletic build of her brother, Demetrios. That and their heights, with Chrys coming to four feet and four inches, and her brother at four feet and five inches.

“You called for us,” he drawled dryly, looking at the four figures that made up their Guardians. Just as the children ranged in height, appearance, and race, so did their Guardians. One thing Draco rather detested about this situation was that, despite this being his home, despite him being the one giving permission for his home to be used as a shelter, he did not feel in control. He was not the one treated as owner and host. It got on his nerves, especially every time Faelan leveled a look upon him as if he were insignificant.

“Yes, the others are about to arrive.” Morchant’s voice had a way of seeming stern and uncaring all at once, as if he was bored despite always being on guard.

Draco escorted Pansy to a chair, deciding to perch upon the arm rest and stay near. Not for any particular reason, though a show of unity from the three Slytherin’s could only do good when faced by the onslaught of a Gryffindor invasion.

Theo had just stilled just behind and to the side of Draco, flanking him, when right in the middle they appeared. Three flaming youth marked by an ordinary, human presence. Unremarkable when surrounded by the Fae beauty this House and his companions possesed.

“See, Harry. We told you that they wouldn’t have their glamors up!”

“But why listen to us? Not like we know anything at all, right Ron?”

“I think it’s more the hair. He’s ridiculously embarrassed by it.” Snickers came from the red haired trio, and Draco watched, amused, as from behind the four he could see red appear upon the shell of his rounded ears. Blushing. Really, now.

Draco stood and clasped his hands behind his back and spoke before the Guardians could. “Welcome to Tempest Villa.”

Immediately, The small form of Harry Potter whipped around, green eyes wide as they took him in. Draco smirked, feeling smug. He knew Harry would see his beauty. Being a Sidhe, he couldn’t be anything but. He then turned his gaze to the three others.

The twins were easy enough to pick out, standing side by side, identical as only twins could be. Gone was the orange-tinged red of humans, leaving dark red streaked in yellow and orange in its place. Short hair spiked up. He imagined the twins thought it made it look like deep red flames on their heads. Features and height, both the same, and nothing really changed beyond being taller. Though he had to admit that, perhaps, the most noticeable improvement among all three Weasleys was the lack of freckles.

However, where the twins seemed like walking embodiments of fire, Ronald seemed... different. His hair was smooth and wavy, curling around his ears. With the same show of fiery red, orange and yellow hair, it seemed to flow together, shifting in the light like flames beneath water. It was distinctly odd to see, just as odd as the shifting quality of his eyes, as if the blue of his eyes was, in fact, water.

As intriguing as these three were, his eyes still, inevitably, returned to the hidden figure before him. But then, it was often that Draco found his eyes seeking out one Harry Potter.

“You need not hide yourself here. The wards on this place are ancient and not of wizard making. The Dark Lord cannot find this place, let alone breach its defenses.” It was meant to be comforting to them. Unlike the others who arrived, these four had reason to worry, as they came from the middle of a country in war. But more because, like he himself was now, they were hunted individuals.

“You’ll forgive us if we don’t take your word on that.” Harry’s voice, forever familiar to his ears; not that Draco actively realized he was so intimately acquainted with the voice. “You are a Malfoy, after all.”

Ending Note:

This time, here is a bot on Dwarves. Shorter humanoids, closest to human in look, if not height. Their height average is between 4' and 4'5". They are abnormally strong, and as a species are generally master craftsmen and women.

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The Howling