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Shiloe	By : Sablesilverrain Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 47211 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the Potterverse, or anything you recognize here. I make no money from this either, sadly. I'm terribly poor. -.-

Chapter List
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- 48
“Today you’re going to learn how to use your elemental abilities in case speaking to the dragon doesn’t work out. Cold will cause the dragon to go into a lethargic state, rendering it nearly harmless.”
Harry rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Um, I don’t think I like NEARLY harmless. How do we render it TOTALLY harmless?”
Lo turned a stern look on him. “You’d have to kill it.”
“Oh.” Harry deflated. “So, that’s out, then.”
“Quite.” Lo agreed with a small smile. “Now, the best thing to do would be to freeze the air just around the dragon. Their hides are thick, so don’t worry about harming her, she’ll be just fine.”
Harry nodded, then gasped as the air around his body suddenly froze, then he realized the cold was actually coalescing INSIDE his body. He felt Shiloe gathering it into a ball and sending it outward through his chest. He groaned as his body suddenly heated up again. “That was a strange feeling.”
“Yes, well, look what you just DID, though.” Lo told him smugly.
Harry looked where she was pointing and blushed. A huge ice sculpture of Luna stood there, in a wedding dress and veil.
“Um. I didn’t mean to do that.” He said in embarrassment.
Lo giggled. “Oh, don’t worry about it! The first time is always spontaneous, and it takes a shape that shows what you desire most at that point in time. And by the way, if she listens to the stones, she’ll end up both in your bed and wedded to you, all in good time.”
Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands. “This is so embarrassing!”
*****
“Sho,” Ron began with a full mouth before he swallowed the contents in one go—loudly, “Three days till the first task. You scared, mate?” He asked curiously.
Harry sighed, taking a half-hearted bite of his shepherd’s pie before he nodded in response. “I’m terrified.” He admitted to his friends. “But then again, I should know all I need to come out the other side in one piece.” He pushed his peas around a bit, then mumbled, “At least, I hope I do.”
Hermione smiled. “I’m sure you do, Harry. After all,” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper, “You’ve had the founders themselves teaching you things, right? That’s GOT to count for something.” She finished confidently, turning her attention back to the book she was reading, titled ‘Carnal Creatures: How Sexual Energy Becomes Food’ that she had charmed to look like ‘Hogwarts, a History.’ “Hm, look here, this sentence:” She said, showing Harry a passage.
“In the case of creatures that need Dark Energies as well, such as Shiloe and Vorago, the latter to a lesser degree, they will usually find themselves drawn to partners who have shown to indulge in not only the Dark Arts, but oftentimes in BDSM or similar bedroom styles of play.”
Harry shrugged. “Snape and Lucius?” He whispered back.
Hermione returned the shrug, apparently agreeing that they were the most likely candidates, both dabbling in the Dark Arts.
‘Besides,’ Harry thought, ‘Snape seems the sadistic type.’
Shiloe’s voice in Harry’s head snorted. ‘Oh, come ON! He isn’t, Harry, I can assure you. Rough, yes; forceful, yes; a veritable demon in bed-‘
‘I GET IT’ Harry mentally shouted, growling at the smugly satisfied chuckle that echoed through his head.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at Harry as he rubbed his forehead. “Tired?”
“Of Shiloe.” Harry snarled, sotto voce.
Hermione simply smiled in commiseration and went back to her book, leaving Ron to slap Harry on the back in sympathy, industriously shoveling food into his mouth the whole time.
*****
“So, do you think you’ll have to fight the dragon?” Sirius asked excitedly.
Harry paled. “I really hope not. They’re all nesting mothers! That would be suicide!”
Sirius nodded. “Okay, good point. But then what?”
“Maybe…” Harry chewed his lip, brow furrowed. “I really hope not, but maybe we have to manage to steal one of the eggs?”
‘Which is also suicide.’ Shiloe added.
Sirius echoed the sentiment aloud, and Harry agreed. “But what else could there be? I’m sure we aren’t supposed to make FRIENDS with it!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.
Sirius leaned back in his chair, frowning in thought.
“I’m going to die.” Harry sighed.
Sirius nodded. “It does SEEM that way, doesn’t it?”
Harry looked up at him through his fringe, grinning. “You aren’t supposed to agree, you know.” He pointed out.
Sirius cocked his head. “Here lies Harry Potter, the boy who survived the killing curse, only to be fried by a dragon. Now we lay him to rest, and then You-Know-Who will kill us all. Hmm, I guess we’re ALL going to die, then. Been nice knowing you, at any rate.”
Harry laughed. “Git.”
“Perhaps I can be of assistance in this matter.” Lucius said from the doorway to Helga’s bedroom, a small smile on his lips. “After all, the Board of Governors were included in the planning of the three tasks of the tournament, though we were not all included for all three tasks, of course.” He added.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Were you REALLY? Were you going to tell me this if I WASN’T worrying myself into an early grave?” He asked.
Lucius chuckled, taking the armchair next to Sirius’ and pretending to ponder the point. “Well, I DID try to keep it to myself, but I feel that one days’ notice can be excused. After all, as a Slytherin with a vested interest in your continued survival, it is my duty to help you out where I can, if only a slight bit.” He drawled, then pierced Harry with an intense stare. “The dragon will be guarding a golden egg that will be held in its nest with the real eggs. You are to retrieve this egg, which will hold your only clue to the next task, without injury to yourself, the dragon, or her eggs. It will be tricky, but it IS possible.”
Harry groaned, covering his eyes with his hand. “No, it’s NOT possible!” He wailed. “I AM going to die.”
Lucius sighed in mock disgust. “Really, you’re no better than Draco with a hangover. Could you BE more melodramatic?”
Harry peeked through his fingers at Lucius with a grin. “Want me to try?” He asked gleefully.
“No.” Lucius said dryly.
Harry sighed. “Honestly, though, if I try to talk sense into her, people will find out about Shiloe, and if I freeze her, it won’t take long for people to come to their own conclusions about how I did it, and someone’s BOUND to get it right! All I can bring with me is my wand! HOW am I going to do this?!”
Lucius smirked. “I’m sure I don’t know, but I WILL be watching, and I’ll cheer you on, however silently it will be.”
Harry frowned. “But Dumbledore doesn’t know-“
“I am EXPECTED to be there, as the representative of the Board. I can get to Hogsmeade from the Forbidden Forest, once I get passed the Wards, and from there, I can follow the path to the school. No one needs to be any the wiser, after which, I can return to the school via the same route I left.” Lucius smirked. “I can’t miss this task, as I daresay it will be the only one I will be able to watch before I begin to display my condition rather obviously. I will, sadly, be too far along to make it to the others.”
“Oh.” Harry shrugged. “Alright, then.”
*****
Harry couldn’t concentrate. All morning long, Shiloe had been giving him advice on what to tell the dragon to get the egg from her, or which part to freeze to lull it to sleep (apparently he should try to freeze the head, since that was the easiest way to affect its mental faculties), or what other options he had (flying, but only if he could summon his broom, which he didn’t think was likely).
‘Best bet is probably to tell her that the shiny egg is poisonous. That once it hatches, it’ll slowly kill her and her real young. She’ll probably be all too eager to get rid of it then.’ Shiloe decided as Harry sat down to lunch, feeling too queasy to eat.
“Are you going to be ok, Harry?” Hermione asked, seeing his mostly empty plate and his pale face.
Harry shook his head. “Actually, I think I’m going to be rather sick, ‘Mione.” He stated shakily.
Ron gave him a wary glance. “Well, could you aim AWAY from me, mate? Thanks.”
Hermione sighed and glared at him. “Ronald, that’s insensitive!” She smiled at Harry. “If you need to sick up on Ron to feel better, you go right ahead and do that.” She said teasingly.
“Gee, thanks.” Ron muttered to his plate. “Honestly, Harry, you’ll be fine! Can’t be any worse that facing You-Know-Who, and you’ve beaten him more than once.” He said optimistically.
Harry groaned and covered his face.
Professor McGonagall hurried over, every eye in the Great Hall following her eagerly. “Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now… You have to get ready for your first task.”
“Okay.” Said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.
“Good luck, Harry!” Hermione whispered. “You’ll be fine!”
Harry nodded mutely.
He listened to Shiloe half-heartedly as they walked, McGonagall seeming to understand that he wanted a few moments to reflect and collect himself, as she kept silent until they were near a tent that had been set up, blocking his view of the dragons.
“You’re to go in here with the other champions,” Said Professor McGonagall, in a rather shaky sort of voice, “and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there… he’ll be telling you the—the procedure. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Said Harry, in a flat, distant voice. She left him at the entrance of the tent. Harry went inside.
Cedric nodded at him and Harry nodded dumbly back, too nervous to do much else.
As Harry glanced at the other two champions, he realized that they were nervous, too, but at least THEY had VOLUNTEERED to do this. To be fair, so had Cedric, but Harry knew that he had a noble cause that had prompted him, at least.
“Harry! Good-o!” Said Bagman happily, looking around at him. “Come in, come in, make yourself at home!” Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes again.
“Well, now we’re all here—time to fill you in!” Said Bagman brightly. “When the audience has assembled, I’m going to be offering each of you this bag”—he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them—“from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different—er—varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too… Ah, yes… Your task is to collect the golden egg!”
And in no time at all, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking… Harry felt as separate from the crowd as though they were a different species. And then—it seemed like about a second later to Harry—Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack.
“Ladies first.” He said, offering it to Fleur Delacour.
She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon—a Welsh Green. It had the number two around its neck. And Harry knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that he had been right: Madame Maxime had told her what was coming.
The same held true for Krum. He pulled out the scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. He didn’t even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.
Cedric put his hand into the bag, and out came the blueish-gray
Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Knowing what was left, Harry put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out the Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its minuscule fangs.
“Well, there you are!” said Bagman. “You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I’m going to have to leave you in a moment, because I’m commentating. Mr. Diggory, you’re first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, all right? Now… Harry… Could I have a quick word? Outside?”
“Er… Yes,” said Harry blankly, and he got up and went out of the tent with Bagman, who walked him a short distance away, into the trees, and then turned to him with a fatherly expression on his face.
“Feeling all right, Harry? Anything I can get you?”
“What?” Said Harry. “I—no, nothing.”
“Got a plan?” Said Bagman, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Because I don’t mind sharing a few pointers, if you’d like them, you know. I mean,” Bagman continued, lowering his voice still further, “you’re the underdog here, Harry… Anything I can do to help…”
“No,” Repeated Harry so quickly he knew he had sounded rude. “No—I—I know what I’m going to do, thanks.”
“Nobody would know, Harry.” said Bagman, winking at him.
“No, I’m fine.” said Harry, wondering why he kept telling people this, and wondering whether he had ever been less fine. “I’ve got a plan worked out, I—”
A whistle had blown somewhere.
“Good lord, I’ve got to run!” said Bagman in alarm, and he hurried off.
Harry walked back to the tent and saw Cedric emerging from it, greener than ever. “Good luck.” He whispered, and Cedric nodded, walking quickly toward the dragon enclosure.
Harry sat, conversing with Shiloe mentally. ‘I don’t think this one is likely to listen to reason.’ He though despondently.
Shiloe’s voice replied. ‘I have to agree with you on that point. Are you going to try and get it to sleep, then?’
‘I honestly don’t know.’ He thought, before his brain seemed to screech to a halt and he just sat, listening to the crowd, numbed with shock, until Cedric had gotten his egg, with a loud roar from the enraged dragon.
“One down, three to go!” Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. “Miss Delacour, if you please!”
Fleur was trembling from head to foot; Harry felt more warmly toward her than he had done so far as she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. He and Krum were left alone, at opposite sides of the tent, avoiding each other’s gaze.
Harry felt a quick sense of vertigo before he lost consciousness of his surroundings.
Shiloe smirked as a bright flash of blue filled his vision, as he had known it would. The bond had been trying to connect since he had entered the tent, and he knew that meant the Bulgarian Seeker must be an anchor.
“Krum.” He stated confidently to get his attention.
Viktor Krum turned toward him with a frown on his face. “Yes?” He asked in his heavily-accented voice. “Vat do you vant?”
“I hate to be terse, but given the circumstances, I have no choice. I am Harry’s Shiloe, and you are one of my anchors.” Shiloe stated baldly.
Krum stared at him in shock for a moment, then nodded. “I vill discuss this vith you later, yes?” He requested. “In the library? At eight?”
Shiloe nodded in agreement as Viktor left the tent for his turn to face a dragon, then let Harry surface again. “Bloody hell, what was that?!” Harry hissed under his breath.
Shiloe chuckled sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I needed a few moments, but the rest of the afternoon will be yours. I’ll be taking the evening, if that’s alright with you?’
“Would it matter if it wasn’t?” Harry asked darkly.
‘Well, you’d be put through an embarrassing chat.’ Shiloe told him. ‘But if you want to-’
“Fine!” Harry spat as the whistle blew once more, announcing his chance to brave a dragon.
He walked out through the entrance of the tent, the panic rising into a crescendo inside him. And now he was walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.
He saw everything in front of him as though it was a very highly-colored dream. There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there since he’d last stood on this spot. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, Harry didn’t know or care. It was time to do what he had to do…
He drew in a deep breath and walked toward the dragon, who was screeching angrily. He felt Shiloe doing something, and suddenly, he could understand her.
“My babies! You can’t have them, you can’t hurt them!” She fixed her angry gaze on Harry. “I will burn you, tiny human child!”
Harry dodged the flame she sent his way, glad he’d had some warning. “I mean you no harm!” He told her, quietly, hoping the crowd wouldn’t hear him talking, or worse yet, what if he was ROARING?!
The dragon stopped at the whispered words, spoken in a strange accent that was much like her own language, yet quieter and more fluid.
“You speak with the Serpents.” She hissed at him, and Harry dodged another small flame, sent only to test him, not in malice.
“Yes.” Harry confirmed. “I want to take the golden egg away from your nest. It means to kill you and your true young. The humans have placed it there for me to retrieve, but if you let it hatch in your nest it will cause harm to you.”
“It will hurt us?! No!” The dragon screeched in outrage and flew up a few feet. “Take it, then, but I will not make this easy for you, Serpent-speaker!” She told him playfully.
Harry dove for the egg, screaming in fear as her tail lashed out, catching him on the shoulder, but not terribly hard, as he rolled away from it just in time to save his chest from impalement.
As he held the egg aloft and walked away from the dragon, he could hear her chuckling softly. “Thank you, human child, and your speed is commendable.” She told him in parting.
McGonagall bustled him into the first aid tent, and Harry smiled as he heard Bagman exclaiming over his speed and how he had dared to face the dragon without a single spell, seeming to have used either wandless and nonverbal magic, or wandless Legilimency, either of which was an amazing feat at his age.
“Dragons!” Madame Pomfrey said, in a disgusted tone, pulling Harry toward a bed.
The tent was divided into cubicles. He could make out Cedric’s shadow through the canvas, but Cedric didn’t seem to be badly injured; He was sitting up, at least. Madam Pomfrey examined Harry’s shoulder, talking furiously all the while. “Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You’re very lucky, this is quite shallow. It’ll need cleaning before I heal it up, though.”
She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked his shoulder with her wand, and he felt it heal instantly.
“Now, just sit quietly for a minute—SIT! And then you can go and get your score.”
Harry smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I wanted to talk to Cedric.” He explained.
Madame Pomfrey nodded. “I’ll see if he’s up to chatting.” She said. She bustled out of his cubicle and he heard her go next door and say, “How does it feel now, Mr. Diggory?”
Cedric’s voice sounded a bit pained, but he answered in a firm voice. “I’ll be fine. It’s feeling a bit better already.”
“Good. Harry’s wanting to talk to you, if you’re up to it.”
Cedric got up and headed into Harry’s cubicle with a grin. “Hey.” He said, sitting on the other end of Harry’s bed as Hermione and Ron rushed in.
Harry groaned. “So, did you have fun? Shiloe is more angry with you than usual, you know. Now that he’s seen just how dangerous this really is. Um, you getting hurt didn’t help, by the way.” He muttered.
Cedric sighed, looking over his chest, smeared with a gray paste. “Yeah, but it’s not so bad. In a few hours, I’ll be good as new!” He grinned, as Hermione and Ron rushed into Harry’s cubicle.
Hermione threw her arms around Harry. “I don’t know what you did, but you were brilliant anyway, really!”
“Bloody great show, mate!” Ron said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Absolutely wicked!”
Harry smiled. “Thanks, guys. I think I can really go for some food now.” He said sheepishly as his stomach prompted him to remember that he hadn’t yet eaten that day.
Cedric laughed. “Should we head back to your rooms for a celebratory feast?” He asked.
Harry nodded. “You guys coming along?”
“FOOD!” Ron declared happily, and Hermione smiled.
“Well, then, Harry, lead the way.” Cedric requested, his arms making a broad sweeping motion in front of him as he bowed, grinning.
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Shiloe