Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

All Forms of Caution	By : SickPuppy Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 17700 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe is not owned by me. I am not making any money from this.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
“Veela fledging is a painful process but one that does not take long. The first signs that a Veela is about to fledge is they begin moving their shoulders far more, as though able to feel the wings not yet there. Before long, the wings will be discernible under the surface. Having a trusted person (such as a Bond-Mate or potential Bond-Mate) touch them, eases the discomfort before the fledging begins.
Fledging usually lasts around ten minutes and will result in torn skin and blood as the wings break through the surface. A typical fledgling wing is around eighteen inches in length and has one joint approximately four inches along the main bone.”
Textbook (for Veela use only) about Veela body changes.

After the boundaries discussion, Severus had suggested they all do something more normal, such as eat, as the day had already been one of stress and high emotions for both himself and Harry. Privately he was very pleased with how many Veela instincts Harry had already developed, but knew that the human side would be all the more resistant because he had been so willing to adopt Veela notions.
Seeing the war raging in Harry (did he stay by Severus' side or not), Snape made no comment, nor any indication of what the younger man should do. At last, looking miserable, Harry walked away from his Bond-Mate and helped Hermione make sandwiches. They could have called Kreacher, of course, but Harry wanted something to take his mind off all the crazy things that had happened to him already that day. So he stood by Hermione, shoulders twitching continually, and helped slice cheese and fetch items she wanted.
Ron had stayed sitting at the table and was glaring at Snape. Now he asked rudely, “So, did you get Harry pregnant when you buggered him? Cos that's really gonna fuck up looking for horcruxes!”
The room went quiet.
Harry shot a pleading look at Ron before he fixed his eyes on Snape, some deep emotion churning in his gaze. Severus moved over to Harry and stroked one hand over the flat stomach. “No,” he admitted at last, after he had checked and quietly chirruped to Harry, who had cawed at the older man, “he is not pregnant.”
Then he took a deep breath and let his anger loose, “And if you ever refer to our coupling in such a way again, you and I will have conflict. Great conflict.”
Ron, taking bravery (or stupidity) to new heights, kept pushing, “But you did, didn't you? You fucked him up the arse?”
Harry gave a scream and stepped between his friend and his Bond-Mate. He faced the older man, his skin red with his embarrassment, and trilled, holding his hands out to block Snape's movement.
Severus gave a cry like a hawk, but he wasn't aiming it at Harry, it was aimed at Ron. Harry trilled again, but this time, the two humans could hear some English under it, “Don't hurt him.”
Lips peeling back, Snape seemed about to screech, but Harry got through to him before he did. He calmed, although his eyes were still flecked with red, and managed to speak to Ron without attacking him (although his hands were hooked into clawed shapes). “Our coupling is a private thing and not to be discussed in human terms. We are not human, and our coupling is not human. Using human descriptions cheapens what is a deep and personal connection. I would expect,” he went on, and now he was speaking to Harry too, “now that you understand the significance of our coupling, you would refer to it in a more respectful way.”
With that, Hermione butted in with a plate piled with sandwiches and a determined look on her face that told Ron to shut up before she had a go at him as well. Harry grabbed the side plates and handed them round, stopping by Severus, seeing the silver flecks in the black eyes. “Why do your eyes change colour?” he asked softly, sitting beside his Bond-Mate without thought.
Ron and Hermione were talking quietly at the other end of the table, and there was something in the tone of Hermione's voice that made it clear she was giving Ron a piece of her mind, so Snape didn't feel too exposed answering such a private question. “Veela eyes change to reflect our emotions. Because we use human language too, we don't need the physical signs to indicate feelings so much, but it certainly helps. Your eyes had dark green flecks in them after I apologised for upsetting you. And I knew, when I saw them, that you had forgiven me.”
“What does silver mean?” Harry asked, one hand resting on Severus' thigh unconsciously.
“My eyes are naturally black with silver. The silver is my resting state. I don't know if you have any flecks in your resting state, as I can't see them, but then, your flecks may be green.”
Harry chewed on a sandwich and considered. Beside him, Severus cawed softly, keeping Harry calm. “It's easier,” the younger man admitted, “dealing with you just on my instincts,” he trembled a little and seemed to notice where his hand was. He twitched as though considering moving it, but swallowed and left it where it was, “but I'm still human. And this is all so strange to me. I don't want any more boundaries or restrictions. I've had enough of them to last me a life time.”
“You don't understand,” Severus said. He didn't seem angry, as his eyes were not red, instead white flecks replaced the silver, “Our Bond isn't about losing control or being restrained, it's about having greater freedom. Once we are Bound together, you will have a partner who will never desert you, who will always want to please you, who will be there to support you in your weakest moments, who will always consider your needs as much as his own, and who will never betray or leave you. Think what you can accomplish with that!”
Harry bowed his head. He had to admit, even the human in him liked the idea of having someone he could completely trust. It made a part of him – human, Veela, he no longer knew which – long to be closer to this man.
Harry suddenly started screaming. He fell to the floor and seemed to be clawing at his back. Face down, the three watchers could see shapes writhing under his top. Hermione and Ron stared, but Severus leapt into action – he tore Harry's top off and cawed continuously as Harry screamed, his wings pushing through the surface of his skin, tearing flesh and working their way out. One slid free after long painful minutes and flopped onto the kitchen tiles, slimy with gore. He squealed as the blood dripped over his back, coating the damp wing, turning the feathers pink. Helpless to really assist, Snape could only caw soothingly to ease some of the pain, not that it seemed to be helping.
Harry pushed his hands under him and tried to get to his knees but a fresh wave of agony floored him again and he slumped, sobbing. His second wing was part way free and seemed stuck. Howling, he clawed at the ground, jerking at the pain as his skin split slowly; blood eased the wing's egress but it was still no easy exit. Snape pulled Harry into his arms, rubbing the skin near the fresh wounds, remembering his own fledging and how he had nearly bitten his tongue in two to stop his screams from being voiced. Clutching at the other Veela, Harry shook as his second wing finally finished sliding out of his body. This second wing stuck straight up – wet, bloodied feathers sticking out in all directions as Harry panted for breath.
Snape turned white and black eyes to Ron and Hermione, pleading with them to leave during this most intimate of moments. Hermione nodded and tugged Ron away, knowing that Severus would take good care of Harry.
Alone in the kitchen, Snape lifted Harry and draped him over the table. The younger man didn't resist, shuddering as the freshness of the pain still clouded his thinking. Gently, Severus ran his hands along the delicate bones, seeing the wet feathers clumping under the strut and starting to tease them apart. He worked slowly, soothingly, cawing without stopping, and let Harry recover from the fledging.
After long quiet moments, Harry seemed to draw breath and croaked, his throat sore from screaming, “It – It was like that for you at the feast? How did you not scream?”
Severus nuzzled the back between the damp wings. “I nearly bit my tongue in two. I did stick an apple in my mouth and screamed around it. Quirrell probably got the scare of his life when it happened. But as soon as I could, I ran to my rooms to clean up and examine my wings. You should clean up and see what you've just grown.”
Harry moaned. “It hurts too much.”
Severus ran his fingers along the wing that stood proud, checking bone and joint. “This wing has stuck,” he explained, “did you want me to help you fold it?”
“Will that make it stop aching?”
Snape rubbed the knuckle on the bone. “Probably. After all, your muscles are holding this up, and they aren't used to the feeling. At any rate, let me try.”
Nodding, Harry grit his teeth, not sure how much it would hurt.
Severus stroked the joint, feeling it carefully before he dug his fingers under the skin to lift the piece of bone that prevented the two longer bones from folding. Harry writhed, feeling vulnerable. Snape used his free hand to push on the strut and begin moving the wing into its folded position. He let go of the joint and saw the piece of bone drop into place, keeping the wing folded. Both small wings now rested against Harry's sweaty and torn back.
“Better?” he asked, hating to see his Bond-Mate in discomfort.
Wriggling his shoulder blades, Harry felt the wings shift. “A little,” he admitted.
Snape bent his head and kissed the back again, lips gently moving over the bloodied skin. “Will you allow me to wash your wings?” he asked after a long few minutes of quiet.
There was silence from Harry. Finally he said softly, “That's a big thing, isn't it? My Veela part is telling me it's huge.”
Severus let the breath he had been holding huff out. Harry had acknowledged his Veela nature explicitly for the first time. Even if Harry refused to allow Snape to groom him, they were much closer to Bonding. “Yes,” he admitted, “washing another's wings is a deeply private affair, and demonstrates absolute trust in the other person. Your wings are delicate, especially at the moment before the feathers dry out, and if you allow me to wash them, you are trusting that I will not harm you.”
“I – I don't know,” Harry said, his one wing fluttering. The other one, the one Snape had helped him fold, didn't move. Severus worried that that wing would always be a problem for Harry.
“Then, as you wash your wings, may I watch?”
“Yes.”
Neither man commented on the erection pressing against Harry's backside, even as he moved to feel it more.
- 4
- 5
- 6
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All Forms of Caution