Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 4
- 5
Beginning Note:

Sorry for the long time between updates, but as Real Life is want to do, it reared its ugly head. However, I got this last chapter edited finally and am posting! Thanks to my wonderful beta, djaddict, you are awesome for sticking with me, and as always, your input makes my fic make sense, and leaves me laughing by the end.

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.

Traveling by portkey was an experience Harry was not very fond of in any way, shape or form. It left him even more off-kilter than apparating, or side-along apparating did, and that was saying something. He was also certain that no matter how many times he traveled this way, he would not get used to it like you did with apparating.

As soon as the sensation was over, Harry’s eyes opened and scanned the area around him. Unfamiliar faces dominated his view, that was the first that caught his attention. The next was the unfamiliar landscape outside of the large windows looking out on what, to him, seemed a very alarming rainstorm. Being from England, rainy seasons were not a novelty to him, but they rarely reached this level of ferocity. You could hear the wind and rain clearly through the wards that obviously kept it at bay, and it did little to settle Harry.

Then that voice came. Clearly spoken, deeper than it had been in boyhood, but carrying that tone; haughty and entitled. Cocky. That tone that always wormed its way beneath any calm defense he had erected and inspired an instant reaction. Today, this reaction was in the form of instantly moving to face his rival and preparing to defend himself. However, instead of a familiar face, he was faced with another largely unfamiliar one. A trio of unfamiliar faces that had a spark of familiarity to them.

They were positioned in that ridiculous way that those who had a flare for arrogance and dramatics tended to favor. It was suppose to be intimidating, Harry was sure. However, they lacked certain prerequisites to be truly intimidating; like being certifiably insane.

But while all three were familiar in a vague way, it was the one in the middle that held the majority of Harry’s attention. His heart sped up and he attributed it to adrenaline. Malfoy had changed just as drastically as Harry’s own change had been. But also, just like Harry’s, much of the change only enhanced the attributes he already had. The pale gold hair was long, like Harry’s, and fell loosely in a platinum fall of tresses, as straight and fine as his father’s... no. It looked more silky and soft than Lucius Malfoys platinum hair had ever been.

Gone were the awkward, pointy features Ron had often attributed to Draco being like a ferret. He was filled out, proportionate to his tall height, but still taller than Harry was. His skin was pale - the Hermione sounding voice in his head provided the word ‘alabaster’ - and looked flawless. For a reason Harry was not prepared to look into, he wanted to touch it and see if it was as smooth as it looked.

What caught him the most about the changes were Draco’s eyes. Grey still, yes, but more... like Harry’s own, they shifted from near black to a light, silvery-grey ring at the outside. He wondered, if he drew near, how many grey rings made up the seeming gradual shift to his eyes? This was a different man, a different creature standing before him. Harry felt the loss of the boy he had known, and went up against so often, keenly. He had not realized exactly how involved in his life Draco had been, for a change like this to seem so... depressing.

These were not thoughts he wanted to have in regard to Draco Malfoy, and likely was why he stayed poised to fight. At least fighting, verbally or physically, was something familiar; a reminder that this was, indeed, Draco Malfoy, his rival and nemesis.

“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.” Those words held no comfort for Harry.

“You’ll forgive us if we don’t take your word on that. You are a Malfoy, after all.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to sound as hard as it came out, but he could not change that now.

While he had spoken, a soft ‘pop’ sounded in the room, announcing the arrival of Severus Snape, not that Harry registered that beyond shoving it aside.

“How very Potter like, to accept an invitation and then be rude to the host. Didn’t the people who raised you teach you even the most basic of manners? Oh, right, I forgot. You were raised by muggles.” As each word slipped from Malfoy’s mouth Harry felt his blood begin to boil.

“Oy! Ferret, why don’t you go and shove it,” Ron said immediately, stepping forward before Harry’s hand shot out and stopped him from drawing closer.

“I have no reason to be polite to you Malfoy, just as I have no reason to trust you.” Harry kept his eyes steadily on Draco’s, forever defiant. He would never give Draco Malfoy an inch.

“It is called common courtesy, Potter. And really, the least you could do is to not act like a poor heathen, it is bad enough there are now Weasley’s in residence.” That familiar sneer...

Voices erupted around them; Ron and the Twins yelling because of the slight to their family, the two flanking Draco defending Draco in their haughty way. Pansy even stood up to speak. But there Draco and Harry stayed, eyes still locked on each other.

The sigh that followed immediately after the soft ‘pop’ of apparition sounded, was a tired sound speaking of an old age the wizard who had just arrived did not yet possess. The sight that met him was distressing, to say the least, especially coming on the heels of having been waylaid by that infuriating werewolf that just had to stick his nose where it did not belong. He should have been here first. Should have arrived moments before the Gryffindor quartet and been able to keep the volatile youths in line. Alas... failure. He had arrived too late, and his idiot godson proved his good upbringing for naught in purposefully needling all four Gryffindors needlessly.

Knowing better than to step in among quarreling young fae who as of yet had no idea how to control their new magic, he moved over to the only ones capable of stemming the tide of battle. Merlin knew the three youths not currently involved in the spat would help. The twins seemed too interested, and the American... too indifferent.

“You will not stop them?”

“No.” Faelan said. The one Severus thought of in charge, though it was never formally acknowledged to him. Since meeting him Severus had found himself slightly disturbed by the similarities the man shared with Draco. His white hair was kept short, though. But his skin tone was the same, though dark blue ink of his tattoos marred its perfection. Their height and build, though, were similar, as were their angular and aristocratic features. Both pleasing to the eye in the same way, and with their grey eyes, they could easily pass as brothers.

Draco had scoffed at him when he had pointed out the similarities upon first meeting the elf, and Faelan? He was not one predisposed to conversing with those he found unimportant.

“Watching them like this will allow us to ascertain the type of personalities they have.” Severus removed his eyes from Faelan, whom he had been expecting to say more, and looked down to the short dwarven woman named Braith. Just taller than the twin dwarves avidly watching the heated exchange, Braith was a curvy and solid woman. Not overweight, but obviously a fighter. Her hair was a startling dark red, kept braided about her head. A no nonsense type, he had derived. He looked away, though, when she turned her orange eyes on him. They were very unsettling to look at, being such an unnatural color. “We will stop them before they do anything too foolish and destructive.” Braith continued on to say.

“Hush. Look.” Sian was the youngest, and Severus wondered how the Elemental had gotten her post in the first place. She was of a short and of lithe build; petite and without even lanky muscle. With her green hair falling in waves, framing her large mossy green eyes and heart shaped face, she looked infinitely more delicate than the other three who stood with her, and seemed to be the most innocent and naive of them all as well. “Young Draco, and the one called Potter. Look at them.”

Severus did so then, paying more attention to the two of them than the ones currently bickering. They were still and focused on each other amidst the yelling. It was distinctly odd. He was sure that they would have been at the forefront of the dispute and already be exchanging blows. Yet there they stood.

“It is time to end this.” Morchant, the shadowy mountain of a man, pushed off from the wall he leaned against and approached the bickering teenagers. Towering over everyone in the room, Morchant moved fluidly and emanated power from every pore. The bluish-black Sidhe was obvious purely bred of his kind, holding no human imperfection of color to him. He was, from head to toe, the embodiment of night; black with a hint of dark blue. A man who, in the dead of night, could truly disappear from sight. His long braid swished in the air as he strode forward, his presence immediately drawing attention.

The Metaxas twins saw the man first and stilled where they were sitting. Then Pansy and Theo spotted him, mouths falling shut and eyes turning to him, thought their cheeks were still flushed from the argument. Then the Weasley brothers, noticing the attention of their quarry was elsewhere, turned and fell silent as well.

But still, Draco and the Potter boy saw only each other.

Knowing exactly what it was he was doing, Morchant drew up just behind the boy called Harry Potter and laid a hand upon his shoulder. His eyes were on young Draco. His lifespan may have been lesser than Faelan’s, but Morchant had still seen much, and learned a great deal. He knew that how the two came out of this daze would speak of much. It would, in the eyes of their four Guardians, forever mark which path they would walk together.

The moment his hand fell upon Potter’s shoulder the hold each other’s gaze held upon them fell away. Immediately Draco’s eyes were on Morchant, the grey darkening from the inside out immediately, pushing back the color, staining his eyes black. The haughty sneer morphed into a snarl. Beneath his hand, Potter stiffened and immediately moved from him, shuddering as if in revulsion.

However, there was no time to be smug at being proven right. Stepping forward, Morchant dropped the limiters that kept his magic in check in order to impress the feral youth with his strength and dominance, forcing him to back down. This kept Draco from attacking, but he could see the darkness linger and knew that, from now on, and for years to come, Draco would not trust him anywhere near Harry Potter.

“All of you,” he said, turning his attention upon all of the children. “Stop acting like petulant children fresh out of their nappies. It is unbecoming for fae to act this way because of petty wizarding squabbles.” His eyes fell and met narrowed green eyes. “It is time you cast aside these idiocies and start anew. Where we will go there is no room for pathetic and inconsequential differences as seen by wizards.”

His voice had been strong and stern. He was speaking to all of them, expecting to be heard and for his words to be accepted. He was not expecting both sides to immediately rise up and balk at them.

Ending Note:

And in ending! I love reviews, tell me what you think. Also, I will work more towards updating once a month.
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The Howling