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Chameleon's Song	By : SomethingElse Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 132344 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 16
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
AN: Once again, I’m sorry for the screw up when I posted Chimeara. If you haven’t figured it out, that one goes before this one. I got them up right, now, but some people had already gone to the story before I could fix it!

Ah, butterpie: That’s my goal, hook em all. No, Harry cannot mate with his siblings, so obviously there will be other pairings. I’m not sure about them all. Who wants Pansy? Anyone? And Terry? Bids will be taken now! Oh, and that Bachelor thing, I never watch TV, especially “reality TV”!

unneeded: Of course you can comment! Please do! Snape’s explanation is very weak, and Harry knows it. The man has ulterior motives for agreeing with the headmaster on this. But, that will probably come up in the future. Harry will also have his opportunity to face off with Dumbledore, soon enough. Right now, though. Other issues and other POV’s to put in.

bill560682: These are all great ideas, and I will try to do a few, if possible. I’m not so much throwing out anything, but some of these just won’t fit in this story. I am not changing anything prior to the fourth book, so Lily isn’t even alive, unless you’re talking about the child Harry has with Ginny, in which case, he’d have to mate Ginny in this fic. Thanks for your reviews, and I’ll keep them in mind, maybe even write another story with some, in the future. Oh, and yes, the lexicon lists Flitwick as ‘human with a dash of goblin blood’.

Kit: Great to hear a new voice, and the dream is confusing, as dreams tend to be. As for Hermione, yes she does seem a little bit domineering, but Harry’s pure human doesn’t really need to be that. Just pure. I could use her, but then all of the die-hard, HG/RW fans would truly hate me. Just kidding. I’ll consider it, or maybe another pairing for the muggle-borns, and as for the Phoenix, it’s there, just the reason I mentioned it. Keep an eye out and you’ll likely see it coming.

I’m still looking for a few creatures, so that I can have some older students return. Come on, let’s get those creative creature juices flowing.

Okay, now I’ve caught myself in a big mistake, so I’m just gonna make a quick fix of it. It’s toward the end of this chapter.

Chapter Five: Aerie

Sylph: Take To The Air; Oh Little Fairies

Sylph, often called Aeries, named for the similarity that their own nests are to eagle’s nests when they are brooding, tend to be aimless and confusing when they are young, called airheaded in an ironic twist to their true nature. They are the magical answer to the cross between humans and songbirds.

The Aerie’s song is lilting and sweet, like candy to the ear. They are usually female, pale or light in complexion and coloring, and breed only one young at a time. Most mates to Aerie are unable to maintain a relationship with these flighty folk and that is why they tend to families of a single child.

The Sylph giggle a lot, are given to making odd statements and having poor judgment with regards to priority. But, the Sylph are magnificent at communicating with other species and can often find more samples of creatures believed lost or so close to lost that they have developed great methods of disguising themselves. No one has yet to know how the Sylph manage this, and it is not a talent that Sylph can be manipulated into using.

Sylph are quick and darting flyers, and they do not mate in the air, like the Veela, but in rose petal bowers that their potential mates create to tempt them. Sylph are sensual beast that enjoy food, scents and beauty. They are easily excited and quick to upset. Care of these beasts can be trying, for most that are captured escape when they are upset and will never be located again.

Sylph are not protected and are quite numerous, though actual counts are impossible to take, and reports of their existence are not necessary, but the proper division of the Department of Beasts and Beings always welcomes the information.

Harry found himself following the floating blanket that was converted into a stretcher for Padma Patil as Professor Flitwick levitated her toward the hospital and when they came out of the classroom he was joined by Isabel Macdougal. She fell in step with him and silently kept him company, along with his thoughts.

When she spoke, he jumped at the sound of her voice, “You knew.” It was not an accusation, more of a statement of fact, and she didn’t sound angry or upset at the fact.

“Not ahead of class, just when I saw what Terry put into the potion.” He admitted.

“And what was it that he made?” she asked.

“Wormwood’s elixir.”

Isabel gasped, stopped and turned towards him. Harry stopped with her and watched her face as she put the pieces together. Her eyes turned to her housemate that was thrashing on the makeshift stretcher, then back to Harry. “So, all of the students that are in hospital and those four . . .” her arm raised, finger pointing down the path.

Harry nodded and she pulled her hand in to cover her open mouth. “And you?” she asked, pointing with the other.

“I don’t know for sure. I’m not experiencing any of the effects of the potion, but the professors believe that I may be what my father was.” He paused. “I’d rather not talk about it, here.”

She nodded and they continued walking, this time they made it to the infirmary entrance before either spoke again. They were greeted at the door by Professor McGonagall who put her hands on their shoulders to keep them from entering.

Through the open doors, Harry could hear sounds ranging from discomfort to agony and his heart leapt. He worried about his friends and schoolmates, but deep down a feeling of anticipation flowed like a deep current under his stomach.

“Mr. Potter. Miss Macdougal. What are you doing here?” The professor asked, her eyes narrowing to resemble her animagus features.

“We were worried about our friends.” Isabel answered for them.

“Your friends will be dealing with enough without any added stress.” McGonagall said.

From inside of the room Seamus’ voice called out, “Harry? Is that you, Harry?” followed by a sneered response.

“Potter, you imbecile! Why are you here again? Haven’t you done enough?”

“Leave Harry alone, Malfoy.” A deep voice interrupted. “He didn’t do anything to you.”

Draco snapped back, “Shut it, Zabini! No one was talking to you!”

“Harry, don’t leave, please!” Seamus cried.

“Oh, great! Now look what you’ve started. Finnigan’ll be pouting and crying for an hour!”

“Leave Seamus alone, Malfoy!” That was Neville, but his voice sounded weak under his forced strength.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do, Longbottom! This all started because of your ineptitude!”

In the background, Harry heard the sound of hissing and he picked out a few words. “You . . here?” “I . . . .yes.” “Who . . .this time?” “Terry . . . there.”

As his eyes went wide in recognition, McGonagall pushed him back and slammed the doors closed, but three more sentences flowed out before she had cut them off.

Blaise shouted, “See ya in a couple a days.”

Neville’s second apology and Malfoy’s, “Just wait until my father gets here!” But it didn’t sound threatening like when he had the altercation with the hippogriff in third year.

Isabel stood back, watching him, her eyes tight and her arms crossed at her chest. When Harry looked up, she huffed once, grabbed his arm and stormed off, dragging him along. “We need to have a little talk, Harry Potter. I think that we should find a quiet place and get comfortable. We have an hour before the next class starts.”

Harry didn’t fight her, but he suggested. “I know a place.” And she let go and gestured for him to lead.

*****

Harry paced the hall as Isabel watched and soon the door appeared. He stopped and turned, motioning her forward as she looked at it with her mouth slightly open. “How . ..how did you find this?” She asked, opening the door and stepping inside.

The room was a soft, elegant showplace of warm gold tones and pale blues. There was a large fireplace with a thick plush rug and big fluffy pillows to sit on. Isabel glided up to it and flowed to the floor like a velvet sash floating in the wind. Harry realized as she looked at him that she was waiting.

He stammered an answer to her question as he scurried over to her and plopped onto the rug nearby. “Kinda by accident. I was just thinking that I needed to find a place and I was in this hall, pacing, and there it was. It’s always the perfect room for your needs.”

Isabel nodded as he spoke and smiled as she agreed with his final deduction, looking around her. “Perfect, yes.” She returned her gaze to him and her face became serious. “Wormwood’s elixir does not have that strong of an effect. What is different about this time?” she asked.

Harry looked down sheepishly, “Me, I think.” He said quietly. Isabel stared without speaking and he cleared his throat. “The difference is that I was present, both times.”

“I think that you are going to have to tell me what your father, and possibly you, are.” Isabel said calmly. Harry swallowed over the lump in his throat.

“A Chameleonis.” He said in a hoarse whisper.

Morag Isabel Macdougal had been raised in a devotedly wizard family that spanned back more generation than the Lestranges and the Dumbledores and the Longbottoms combined. Her family prided themselves, not on blood purity, like the Blacks and the Malfoys preached, hypocritically, but on the purity of their human lineage. She had been taught about these things that could taint them and what to avoid.

So, Isabel knew what a Chameleonis was and it was her upbringing that made her flinch away from the boy-who-lived.

It was only a minute move, but Harry took note of it and sighed inwardly. Another potential friendship spoiled because of something about him that he couldn’t change.

It only took a second for Isabel to realize her mistake but it was done and she couldn’t take it back, so she did what she always did, plodded ahead to the next goal. She would solve the riddle that plagued her. “So, to add to the fumes of the potion, you were more than likely emitting pheromones. I can see how that would multiply the effects. What are your plans, now?”

“Beg pardon?” Harry asked.

“Mates, Harry. What do you plan to do about your potential mates?” Isabel kept her face neutral while her mind chuckled at his reaction to her question.

Harry did not disappoint. “I don’t have any plans for mates. I just want to finish school, pass a few NEWTs and go on with my life.”

“But you must have considered your future family. Don’t you want children, someday?” Isabel continued.

Harry stared a moment, working his open mouth to get it to form words. “I . . .” He snapped his jaw closed on what he was going to say. Of course, he wanted children, a family, but he’d almost said that what he wanted was just what his parents had. “I do want children, but how could one man balance the kind of family that they are talking about?”

“They?” Isabel asked.

“The professors and my godfather. They said I would have mates. More than one and maybe a lot. My father had seven before my mum.”

“You have seven brothers and sisters?” Isabel gasped. “No one ever said anything.”

“I don’t think that a lot of people knew.” Harry explained. “My father . . . abandoned his mates when he and my mother married.” Harry hung his head in shame.

Isabel reached out and placed a hand on Harry’s arm. “I’m sorry.” She said.

Harry looked up suddenly. “Why?” he asked.

“Because you look so lost.” Was the answer he got. “Look Harry. I don’t know how it all works. Maybe it doesn’t and that’s why your father did what he did. Maybe seven mates was too much for any one.”

“He shouldn’t have mated with them if he couldn’t handle it.” Harry insisted.

“And if he didn’t have that kind of choice?” Isabel speculated and Harry looked shocked.

*****

Madame Pomfrey had just managed to get the four new admittees settled in their beds, spelled the curtain to go all the way down the center of the room and engaged the spell that would keep the gender bias in place between the two sides, when she noted that one of her patients was not in their bed.

Said patient was clearly not in bed for she was floating just above it, hovering about three feet above the sheets. “Miss Lovegood?” Poppy said as she moved closer. Luna turned toward her and smiled.

“Hello, Poppy.” She said stretching her arms out and causing the sheet that covered her to slide loose and fall to the floor. Her gown that was fastened along the back had come loose. There were four filigree like wings, two per side, poking out of the opening and fluttering so fast that they were difficult to see. Poppy reached out to touch the girl and Luna gently pushed her hand away. “Ah, ah. You wouldn’t want to do that.” The girl said.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Poppy asked.

“Because, my skin is on fire and I might bite you.” Luna said in a light and singsong voice.

“Oh, I see. Would you mind getting back into bed for me, then?” Poppy asked.

“Well, yes I would. You see, the bed sheets are so very rough and it makes my skin burn even worse. I think I’ll just float here until it feels better.” Luna answered her.

“If that is how you feel, dear. I’ll be back to check you later. Don’t leave here before the professors approve it, alright?” Poppy asked her.

“Okay.” Luna said in that same sing-song voice and Poppy walked away shaking her head.

“Aeries!” she said softly to herself when she was out of the girl’s hearing.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed on this story, and on the others I have up.

I am considering beginning a new story, that I have done some work on.

It's an odd piece and before I post it, I wanted to get some feedback.

Would anyone be interested in a Charlie Weasley/ Ruebeus Hagrid Story????
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Chameleon's Song