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Dark Knight	By : xDAISUKIx Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 53701 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 15
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
jujukitty: Thank you so much XD It’s always great to hear feedback from a reader.

CM: Wow! Your enthusiastic review got me through all of chapter 7 in a day! *cheers. Nice to know that someone other than me has a thing for people with long legs XD and on the other point, I agree with you fervently, there can only be so many fics with Harry as a broken sub or have been continually abused all his life.

unneeded: Yes indeed, poor Harry. Nothing ever goes to plan... and wow, your review was heaps long- Draco as a super sub? *drops to the ground from blood loss. Also, if Cedric had stayed alive, and letting him stay alive wouldn’t have wrecked the whole system, then he would have definitely been a candidate. He’s so hawt XD

KaylusCHU: I will >.<

moodysavage: *licks lips. Theres so many possibilities... but Harry can’t have a whole castle of mates... or can he? Hmmmm

APPLECHAN: Interesting name you got.... and as always: thankyou~

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ＳＨＵＴ　ＵＰ　ＡＮＤ　ＥＮＪＯＹ！

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Main Story Idea and betaed by: SuirenAngel

Written by: NeuroticNeko

This contains no Dumbledore bashing (and he’s still alive), no Weasley bashing. This is boyxboy. If you don‘t know what that means then you shouldn’t be here.

IMPORTANT!!!!!! Next week, i plan on changing the summary to:

Harry didn’t expect much from the rest of his life. One day he falls into a coma- and emerges as a part of an ancient race. Harry’s Scath wants to do things that he really thinks he shouldn’t but does anyone ever listen?

Please remember this while looking for “Dark Knight” next week!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain poured down in torrents, hitting the Thestral-driven carriages like a stick on a drum. Thunder rumbled ominously overhead and lightening streaked the skies. The carriages, which seemed to drive themselves magically to some, sloshed through the perpetual river of water that covered the dirt-trodden path.

The carriages advanced upon the hulking sight of Hogwarts castle, which sat upon the hill like an overseer, watching, as its slaves drew on, one by one in the stormy night.

Inside one particular Thestral driven carriage, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on one side, with Seamus, Dean and Neville on the other.

They chattered non-stop about what had happened during summer holidays, though everyone religiously avoided mentioning what happened to Harry. The atmosphere inside was light, opposite to the raging storm overhead.

“Damn!” Dean exclaimed, though, when he took a glance outside, “This morning, the sun was shining brightly and dude, look at it now!”

All inside peered into the sleeting rain.

Harry shivered in his seat; it was almost exactly the same as the ride during his third year, with the absence of Dementors, of course.

The carriages drew to a stop outside an imposing barbed fence, Professor Flitwick stood inside, ticking off the passenger’s names.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The candles hung low, as if to shield themselves from the rumbling illusion above them. The hall was bathed in a yellow and blue glow, tinging students’ faces violent purple.

The choir gathered up and picked up their music sheets, looking at them for a few moments before putting it back down again and picking up their toads. The students lined up in rows of four, from tallest to shortest and Professor Flitwick picked up his conducting stick.

“1, 2, 3!” He mouthed and then the choir opened their mouths, breathed and began to sing.

Double, double, toil and trouble

Fire burn and cauldron bubble

Double, double, toil and trouble

Something wicked this way comes.

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,

Lizard's leg and owlet’s wing.

Double, double, toil and trouble

Fire burn and cauldron bubble

Double, double, toil and trouble

Something wicked this way comes.

In the cauldron boil and bake,

Fillet of a fenny snake,

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,

Witches' mummy, maw and gulf.

Double, double, toil and trouble

Fire burn and cauldron bubble

Double, double, toil and trouble

Fire burn and cauldron bubble

Double, double, toil and trouble

Fire burn and cauldron bubble

Something wicked this way comes!*

After the rendition, everyone politely clapped and the students walked off the stage, beaming at the applause. Harry wondered if Professor Flitwick had run out of different songs to sing on the first day back, he had done this song in Harry’s third year after all.

The first years, awed and nervous shuffled into the great hall. Their mouths dropped open at the majestic sight of the great hall, the stormy illusion still rumbling overhead, the candles flickering above the heads of all the students of Hogwarts, most of who stared at the first years. Some of the newly enrolled cowered in fear and some puffed up their chests and strode forward.

McGonagall ushered the students before the Sorting Hat and bid them to put it on, one by one.

Six Hufflepuffs, seven Ravenclaws, seven Slytherins and six Gryffindors were chosen; their house tables cheered enthusiastically and grinned at them when they took their seats at the front of the House table.

“Ahem”

The voice, though elderly, echoed through the entire hall and the chatter that had been about to ramp up fell silent.

“Greetings!”

Dumbledore smiled serenely and lifted his arm high in the air behind the golden owl podium; it was quite an impressive sight.

“- And welcome to another year of Hogwarts!”

The hall burst into applause and he nodded, silvery hair and robes swishing.

“Now I have a few words to you before you become enamoured with the magnificent feast that is to come.”

The ancient wizard turned slightly, blue robes rustling and gestured to a man sitting to the left of Hagrid, who thumped a chestnut-haired man on the back, grinning. The man smiled with a small twisting of the lips and Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“May I present to you, Professor Bainbridge!”

The whole hall turned in their seats to stare at the new professor, who lifted his glass.

“Thank you, Dumbledore.”

His voice, seemingly without effort, resounded across the hall, setting the glass down, he turned to Hagrid and began speaking quickly and with fervour. Hagrid chuckled.

‘He will be taking over Potion’s this year, as Professor Snape will be taking Defence Against the Dark Arts”

The whole hall gasped collectively and the air burned with questions.

Snape is alive?

How!?

Ew! Another year with Snape as DADA Professor!

Wish he’d just stay dead, who wants Snape for another year!

Thank Merlin!

Did medics get to him in time!?

Well- If Potter hadn’t just left him for dead...

All the students scanned the long table where the professors sat. Snape wasn’t there.

The hall soon turned into a cacophony of shouts and Dumbledore hit the podium in anger, or as close as he could get to anger. Dumbledore seldom got really angry.

The students cheered and clapped, still shocked about the apparent ‘revival’ of Snape, who had been presumed dead.

“Let the feast begin!”

The first feast of the year was, of course, grand and the plates were piled with fruit, vegetables and meats.

The hall was still in uproar, however the talk of Snape drifted away as the food appeared on the tables, the student were boasting and laughing about what had happened during summer break. Projectiles flew in the air, the younger students tossing their food in the air before catching in their mouths while their friends cheered them along.

Harry sat comfortably in his seat, he sat to the left of Hermione and Ron, chewing on his plate of vegetables and meats, while Ron, as he did every year, grabbed a whole bunch of chicken legs and stuffed himself. Harry took a look at Ron’s plate and as usual, he was appalled at how much his friend ate.

Seamus grinned and yelled, “Hey, guys! Look at this!”

The people around him swivelled around in interest as he pulled out a wand.

“Vinum aqua!”

The water inside his goblet swirled dangerously before turning honey gold in colour.

“Rum!” Seamus yelled, holding up his goblet triumphantly. His friends cheered. Seamus grinned, Eye of rabbit, harp string hum, turn this water into rum MY ASS! Stupid- whoever it was- for tricking him into thinking it was a real spell.

Savouring the moment of suspense, he lowered the goblet to his lips and tipped his head back.

“sktjuierthuifgh”

Seamus clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. What!?

“How was it?” Dean asked, eyes burning with interest.

Seamus removed his hand and tried to speak, but all that came out was gibberish. Dean frowned, what was his friend trying to say? When Seamus gestured helplessly at the goblet, Dean picked it up and looked at its contents.

That’s strange... there was a tiny impurity in the liquid, holding it closer to eyes level, the fleck swirled and twisted until it resembled Dumbledore’s stern face.

‘No alcohol in school grounds, boys”

He shrieked and dropped the goblet, spilling its contents over Seamus’ plate. Dean looked up at horror to where the Headmaster was sitting.

Dumbledore eyes twinkled as he raised a goblet at Seamus and Dean.

They blushed and Seamus tried to say something about the rum on his plate, “auigtfalhyui” He blushed and covered his mouth for the rest of the night.

“Sorry” Dean said and gave Seamus a new plate.

Their housemates had looked on during the whole fiasco and now burst into raucous laughter.

“Should’ve known!” Choked out Ron over his mouthful of chicken, “-No way Dumbles’ would let there be alcohol in the school feast!”

Harry laughed so hard that there were tears in his eyes and his stomach hurt like he had just done a thousand sit-ups.

The laughter died down as dessert came into view, all thoughts of Headmasters inside goblets fading into a hunger for the scrumptious, delectable, succulent and mouth-watering cream-filled desserts that went their way.

All dug in and Harry was spooning the vanilla cream into his mouth with delight, blissfully he licked the spoon after the dessert was all inside his stomach.

“Ugh” Hermione shook her head, “You’re almost as bad as Ron!”

Harry and Ron grinned at each other and high-fived then went back to their meal, Hermione rolled her eyes but her eyes crinkled around the edges.

That’s when the inevitable happened.

Lavender Brown, who had been sitting a few seats away and eating some strawberry cake, had heard Hermione’s accusation and had turned around, in hopes of seeing the Boy-Who-Lived. Her eyes quickly pinpointed the space left to Hermione and Ron. What she found wasn’t to her liking.

“Who’s that boy? And where’s Harry?”

Harry, who had been sitting there, eating some apple crumble that Neville had handed him, froze in his seat.

He really, really, didn’t want to talk about this right now. Not in the Great Hall!

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry in concern; they didn’t want to make a scene in the Great Hall, in front of all the Professors and students.

Hermione slowly leaned forward onto the table, looking Lavender in the eye.

“That is Harry”

The table hushed as they turned to the tall, tanned stranger in their midst. A couple of the more perceptive scoured Harry’s face and resumed their dessert. However, Lavender had always been quite dim.

“What!? That is not Harry! What happened to him?!”

“Nothing!” Ron stood up angrily and gestured to Harry, who was sick to his stomach.

“This is Harry!”

The tables around them hushed, all turning in their seats to face the furious voice of Ron.

Ron leaned over to where Harry was holding his head in his hands, muttering, and grabbed Harry’s hands.

“Harry! Show them!”

Harry looked up then, and registered all the faces that were staring at him.

Not again.

He lifted his eyes and tried to look at every person at once. Slowly, he lifted one hand and pushed back the curtain of black bangs.

Collectively, the hall drew in a breath.

“How do we know it’s not fake!?” Someone from the Ravenclaw table challenged.

“Touch it.” Harry challenged, tired of the whole thing.

The boy, whose name was Stewart Ackerley, pushed his chair back and marched towards where Harry was sitting. When he stood directly behind him, he withdrew his hands from his robe pockets and reached for Harry’s face, nervous. Everybody waited expectantly, some thought that the scar would rub off, like it was makeup or that it would quiver when touched like some glamour charms. However, most knew that if he was not Harry Potter Dumbledore would not have let him onto school grounds, those were the ones who didn’t object and just waited expectantly for something interesting to happen.

Harry appeared calm as the small hand crept closer to his face and as the slightly grimy hand descended towards his face he tried not to flinch.

After a moment’s hesitation, the small fingers brushed his scar and Harry growled, deep in his throat.

No one touched his scar.

Wild magic flew around the Boy-Who-Lived in torrents and Ackerley’s eyes grew wide as he felt electric sparks up his arm.

Blue and green eyes locked together and Ackerley hastily snatched his hands away, panting.

“You’re Harry…” he said and the hall sighed in relief.

The professors, who had been stopped by Dumbledore when they tried to intervene, sat quietly at their table. Professor Bainbridge was looking at Harry with a mixture of shock, and something else. All the rest looked in concern at the Headmaster, who gazed calmly at the students.

Best to let them figure that it is Harry by themselves than from a Professor’s mouth, Dumbledore thought as he gazed upon the students. Things will work out.

Harry’s mouth was dry as Stewart cradled his hand. The whole hall was now staring at the Saviour like he was an animal in a zoo that needed to be studied.

Lavender pursed her lips as Harry’s friends glared at her.

“What!?”

They just continued to glare at her and Lavender fidgeted in her seat. Steeling herself, she got up from her seat and walked to where Harry was sitting.

“H-Harry...I’m sorry. I should’ve realised that it was you”

“No problem, Lavender”, Harry ground out, with flashing eyes he abruptly stood up and left the Great Hall.

The professor’s watched in interest (Don’t tell them I said that) as the wild haired boy left the hall. Sebastian smiled wryly at the aura of authority that burnt through the room as Harry walked out, his black robes billowing behind him almost like a certain professor.

Conversation at the Gryffindor table fell to a slight murmur and the mood dropped drastically. The five that had been with Harry in the carriage ride, watched concerned as Harry strode out of the Hall. Ron and Seamus got up to follow, but were forced back into their seats by an invisible hand.

Angrily, they looked towards Dumbledore’s direction but it wasn’t him. The newest addition to the school’s professor’s nodded at them and released his hold on the boy’s robes. The message was clear though, and both boys stayed down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco had been watching the whole debacle, his trademark sneer firmly in place. His whole table had been shocked to utter silence when the small Ravenclaw boy had touched the scar on the other boy’s head and declared him Potter.

His house mates all had similar expressions of shock, disbelief and incredulity as they raked their eyes through every inch of the tall, tanned and well-built boy.

“No problem, Lavender”

The sound of the Boy-Who-Lived’s voice sent sparks through his brain. Potter’s voice was a deep, rich and smooth sound that rang in your ears pleasantly. Draco watched in detached interest as the boy raised himself smoothly from his seat and strode off, black robes flying from behind him like banners of death, face set in an expression of stone-like quality.

Draco’s sneer wavered as he shuddered, the imagery created a slight tingle in his abdomen.

Draco smacked his palm to his forehead as he realised what he was thinking and his friends watched in concern as he acted unbefitting of a Malfoy, even one whose father was currently rotting in the cages of Azkaban.

But as waves of magic and power oozed out of the raven-haired boy, Draco couldn’t help but lick his lips nervously at the show of power.

As the fluctuating magic drifted towards him, Draco felt his Veela react; His dominant Veela. It reared within him, screaming in his mind, clawing at the strands of magic that the Saviour left as he had glided past. Draco grabbed the table legs and gripped them so hard that they bruised his fingers, taking deep breaths as he forced his Veela nature down.

He didn’t need people falling over him tonight.

Draco could taste Potter’s creature in the air, and he knew what it was too.

For a moment, he wondered why a dominant creature such as himself would react to another species’ dominant.

Maybe he thought of Potter as a threat? Yeah, that would have to be it.

Potter was a threat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ghosts of Hogwarts floated through the stone walls and cackled with laughter as they spoke energetically to each other, or as energetically as a bunch of long dead witches and wizards could do; which meant not very energetically at all.

(You wonder why the author could be bothered to write that)

Harry prowled down the corridor, his mind roiling. He hated it. He hated being judged. He hated being the centre of attention.

Damn it!

He slammed his fist into the wall and felt a slight sting. A bit of stone tumbled off the wall and Harry watched in growing despair.

He had forgotten about his newfound strength.

He had almost forgotten that he was different. Different.

Harry’s senses grew out of control from the emotional flood that swept aside every thought in his mind and he fell to the cold ground. Bones crashed into stone and Harry curled himself into a tight ball. He could feel it.

His teeth, his claws, his skin; all wanted to be released. The tightly coiled magic within him threatened to break free from the strand of magic that kept it at bay.

He tried to still and listen, to the sound of his own breathing, to the sound of the night, to the beat of his heart.

The moon shone palely and lit up Harry’s face eerily as he lay as still as a corpse on the ground. Distantly a howl could be heard through the dense forest and Harry could feel his creature reacting to the wild magic that thrummed through the sound.

His pulse slowed and his breathing sounded less breathy, Harry’s fingers twitched as he tried to regain himself and find purchase on the flawless stone.

Slowly pushing himself up and off the floor, Harry groaned; a deep rumbling noise that echoed pleasantly through the darkness. Raking his fingers through his hair shakily, he took three deep breaths and chided himself for feeling so out of control from a spat in the Great Hall.

He was still himself. Harry would always be himself, even if he changed outside.

Straightening his robes, he flexed his muscles and tried to lessen the tension in them. Walking briskly, he headed for Gryffindor tower when small, unsure steps alerted him to the presence of a follower.

He pressed his back to the hard wall and waited for the person to round the corner. Who he saw was unexpected. He had expected a Slytherin, Malfoy or even one of Harry’s friends.

A small curly head rounded the corner and blue eyes widened in shock as Harry towered imposingly above.

“Hello, Colin”

“H-hello! H-ha-Harry!” Colin squeaked as Harry’s intense green eyes bore through his.

Uneasy silence drifted on as Colin fiddled nervously with the hem of his robes and Harry stood over him with his arms folded.

Harry came into the realisation that he liked standing over Colin, liked the sense of power it gave him.

Power over something in his life.

“So, what were you doing?” Harry said, leaning close as if he were confiding to Colin a big secret.

Harry’s hair, which had grown a bit longer so that his hair was like how it looked in fourth year, hung down and mixed with the blonde curls of Colin’s head. His Scáth reacted to the laden atmosphere and magic seeped through the bonds he had placed on it, tasting the vanilla and buttercup strands of magic that floated by Colin’s body.

He fought back the strange urge to growl as he forcefully pushed down the rising magic that threatened to take over his mind.

He put his hand on the stone wall behind Colin and waited for his response.

“I-I, Uhm-” Colin stuttered and broke off as waves of power drifted off Harry, filling the air with heaviness. He looked up again and found bright green eyes boring into his, making Colin’s breath hitch in his throat.

“I just wanted to know where you were going, sir-Harry”

Harry found himself laughing out loud when Colin accidently called him sir; he leant back a bit, to ease the tension.

“I hope you haven’t mistaken me for Snape”

Colin blushed, a deep red and looked up at Harry through his lashes.

“I-I didn’t-mean, not like-”

Harry smiled, the white of his teeth showing. His eyes captured Colin’s again and the pink face turned impossibly redder as he stuttered through his sentences.

“You look awfully hot, Colin.”

Colin choked on his words and looked up timidly, golden locks framing a cherub-like face. Pink lips opened and closed silently, like a dying goldfish and Harry grinned down at the boy.

“See you at Quidditch practice, you and your brother are the Beaters, right?”

Colin nodded, eyes wide, curls bouncing up and down and pale orange magic swirling around him. The strands floated near Harry and with one finger he stroked it.

Colin shuddered and opened his mouth to say something but Harry had already turned his back to the elder Creevey brother and was stalking down the corridor, robes flying like a banner.

Colin watched after Harry, rather liking the change to Harry’s looks. He liked the feeling of Harry’s bright green eyes with their strange golden rings and the way they mesmerized him.

He pressed a small palm to his chest, to calm the wild beating. Colin’s cheeks were still stained red as he thought about his encounter with Harry. The way his breath smelled like the forest, the way his eyes had flashed when Colin blushed and the way he had put his hand on the wall behind Colin, effectively trapping him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry walked away from the scene with a smirk plastered firmly onto his face. Colin was so…so- CUTE, damn it!

Especially when he was nervous, and he had been very nervous. He looked so delicious that Harry’s Scáth had almost broken out multiple times during their encounter.

Still smirking with a mixture of smugness and excitement, Harry walked up to the Fat Lady, who was in her portrait with her friend, Vi, ignored Harry as he said, “Maple Syrup!” and he had to shout it five times in rapid succession before she waved her hands at him in annoyance and let him in.

Rolling his eyes, he made his way quickly through the red and yellow common room before trekking to the boy’s dorm.

Pushing aside the curtains he pulled his robes, shirt and pants off until he was only in his underwear. Pulling the covers aside, he climbed in and rested his head on the pillow.

As he fell asleep, the presence of his Scáth faded from Harry’s mind and he sat up with a snap!

What the hell was he thinking!? Colin Creevey!

Had he even liked Colin before the change!?

He knew that he hadn’t, at least not as strongly as he did now. With a deafening growl, he threw himself off his bed and put his shirt and pants back on.

What the hell!?

How much was him? And how much was his Scáth?

He threw aside his curtains and clambered out of bed.

As he reached the common room, the portrait hole opened and Gryffindors piled in. Ron and Hermione spotted Harry as he inched around the crowd and were about to call out to him when he glared in their direction.

There was such intensity in his gaze that frightened them a little and they took a step backwards, only to bump into Seamus, Neville and Dean.

“What happened?” asked Neville, following the direction of his friend’s gazes.

“Dunno” Ron said softly, scratching his head. Where would Harry go this late?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing that hit Harry’s mind when he exited Hogwarts castle and into the cold, blistering wind was: I need to change.

His Scáth instincts were still dormant within his mind and he grinned with relish.

He’d be the one fully in control.

Padding through the soft grass, he walked down the pebbled track and kicked a couple of stones. Densely packed trees bordered the edge of Hogwarts and Harry walked carefully within the shelter of the trees and into a small clearing.

Sitting himself down, Harry tugged on the binding of his creature magic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*1. Song was sung in 3rd Year, Prisoner of Azkaban Harry Potter Movie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I understand how hard it is to write a review- it only takes a moment of your time and a simple review is really all it takes for writers to write more- and if that is too hard then just clicking the 'rate' button makes writers happy too.

And tell me your thoughts on the OMC: Sebastian Bainbridge, i did try to make him semi-unotable.

Reading it, I feel that I did this chapter rather shoddily. I rather like the fact that Harry is having a hard time accepting everything, he is human after all.

…

Scratch ‘human’ and put ‘máistir Scáth’ instead XD

As for Colin... well, I am sorta getting mixed opinions of him. I am of mind to make him Harry’s mate and then kill him off. Lol. Just joking.

NEXT CHAPTER: ENCOUNTER WITH A WILD BEAST!?
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Dark Knight