Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Shiloe	By : Sablesilverrain Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 47196 -:- 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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Again, some of this chapter comes from the book. I just borrowed and changed a few things to suit the story. I make no money from including it.
The day of the final Task, McGonagall came up to speak with Harry during breakfast.
“Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast.” She said.
“But the Task’s not till tonight!” Said Harry, accidentally spilling scrambled eggs down his front, afraid he had mistaken the time.
“I’m aware of that, Potter.” She said. “The champions’ families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them.”
She moved away. Harry gaped after her.
“But my only family’s… Not exactly human anymore…” He said lamely.
“Dunno what she’s on about, then, Mate.” Said Ron. “Harry, I’d better hurry, I’m going to be late for Binns. See you later.”
Harry finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall. He saw Fleur Delacour get up from the Ravenclaw table and join Cedric as he crossed to the side chamber and entered. Krum slouched off to join them shortly afterward. Harry stayed where he was. He really didn’t want to go into the chamber. He had no family left, anyway. But just as he was getting up, thinking that he might as well go up to the library and do a spot more hex research, the door of the side chamber opened, and Cedric stuck his head out.
“Harry, come on, they’re waiting for you!”
Utterly perplexed, Harry got up. Who could possibly be waiting for him? He walked across the Hall and opened the door into the chamber.
Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Viktor Krum was over in a corner, conversing with his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian. He had inherited his father’s hooked nose.
On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur’s little sister, Gabrielle, was holding her mother’s hand. She waved at Harry, who waved back, grinning.
Then he saw Mrs. Weasley and Bill standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him.
“Surprise!” Mrs. Weasley said excitedly as he smiled broadly and walked over to them. “Thought we’d come and watch you, Harry!” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek.
“You all right?” said Bill, grinning at Harry and shaking his hand. “Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn’t get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail. Also said he was an anchor?” He finished in a whisper.
Harry nodded dumbly. “Yeah.”
‘Can I talk to them?’ Shiloe asked. ‘I never got a chance to officially thank Molly for all she’s done, and welcome her into the Pack. And… Something’s nagging at me, but I can’t tell what.’ He finished.
Harry held up a hand. “Shiloe wants to talk to you. Is that okay?” He asked Mrs. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley gave him a watery smile. “Of course, Dear.”
Harry felt Shiloe surge to the forefront at the words.
Shiloe blinked at the bright flash of blue that obscured his vision the instant he took over. “Well, that explains that feeling.” He muttered. “Molly, welcome to the Pack, and thank you for watching over my Host before I was able to. You’ve earned a special place in my heart for that, and I’m pleased to tell you that you were the first person I decided on as a Pack member.”
Molly hugged him, tightly. “Oh, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me!” She exclaimed. “Now, how are you doing, Dear?”
Shiloe flushed as he was held out at arm’s length and examined. “Um, I’m doing fine, but if I could borrow Bill for a second, there’s something I need to discuss with him in private.”
Molly smiled widely, letting Shiloe know that she knew what was going on. “Ah, I see. Well, don’t let me keep you from doing what you must. And welcome to the family, Dear.”
Shiloe led Bill a few feet away. “Um, we can’t exactly do much here, but you’re an anchor. The last one I had yet to find.”
Bill nodded. “We can seal the bond when we leave here, we’ll just nip into a bathroom close by, alright?” He asked, taking Shiloe’s hand. “And then you’ll have to visit Mum during the summer. I’ll make a point to be there while you visit. Charlie’s coming over in June, so you can be there then.”
Shiloe nodded, smiling. “That’ll work. You’re not mad about having to share me with a brother, are you?”
Bill laughed. “No, of course not! Me and Charlie used to be as close as Fred and George, and let me tell you, we got up to as much as they did together, we just never got caught as much as them! Mum caught us fooling around once, and we never let her find us at it again. But we’ll have no problem sharing you. You might even get both of us at once.”
Shiloe’s eyes darkened at the words. “I’ll hold you to that.” He purred, then pulled the man back over to Molly.
“It’s great being back here.” Said Bill, looking around the chamber (Violet, the Fat Lady’s friend, winked at him from her frame). Haven’t seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?”
“Oh, yeah.” Said Shiloe. Harry had met Sir Cadogan the previous year.
“And the Fat Lady?” Said Bill.
“She was here in my time.” Said Mrs. Weasley. “She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning—”
“What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?” said Bill, surveying his mother with amazement.
Mrs. Weasley grinned, her eyes twinkling.
“Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll,” she said. “He got caught by Apollyon Pringle—he was the caretaker in those days—your father’s still got the marks.”
“Fancy giving us a tour, Shi?” Asked Bill.
“Yeah, okay.” Said Shiloe, and they made their way back toward the door into the Great Hall. As they passed Amos Diggory, he looked around.
“There you are, are you?” He said, looking Shiloe up and down. “Bet you’re not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric’s caught you up on points, are you?”
“What?” Asked Shiloe.
“Ignore him,” Said Cedric in a low voice to Shiloe, frowning after his father. “He’s been angry ever since Rita Skeeter’s article about the Triwizard Tournament—you know, when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion.”
“Didn’t bother to correct her, though, did he?” Asked Amos Diggory, loudly enough for Shiloe to hear as he started to walk out of the door with Mrs. Weasley and Bill. “Still, you’ll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven’t you?”
“Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!” Mrs. Weasley said angrily. “I would have thought you’d know that, working at the Ministry!”
Mr. Diggory looked as though he was going to say something angry, but his wife laid a hand on his arm, and he merely shrugged and turned away.
As they headed for the grounds, Bill stopped Shiloe by a bathroom. “Come in here, really quick. We’ll just be a minute, Mum!” He said, pulling Shiloe into the bathroom after him. “There. Now we can seal the bond, so you can relax, yeah?”
Shiloe grinned and wrapped his arms around Bill’s neck. “Sounds good to me.” He said.
Bill leaned down and kissed him, sliding his hands into Shiloe’s hair and deepening the kiss, tasting every inch of Shiloe’s mouth.
Shiloe moaned, his own hands finding their way into Bill’s long hair in return. His hands fisted, pulling Bill’s hair slightly.
“Oh, don’t do that here.” Bill moaned, pulling away from the kiss and taking a deep breath. “I have this thing about having my hair pulled, and we don’t have time to do any of the things you’re making me want to do by doing that.”
Shiloe smirked and removed his hands from Bill’s hair, making a mental note to pull it again when they’d have the time for more. “I understand. Later?”
“Oh, DEFINITELY.” Bill promised, with another quick kiss. “Come on, let’s go get Mum and get on with the tour.”
*****
There were more courses than usual at dinner, but Harry, who was starting to feel really nervous now, didn’t eat much. As the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.
“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now.”
Harry got up. The Gryffindors all along the table were applauding him; the Weasleys and Hermione all wished him good luck, and he headed off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor.
“Feeling all right, Harry?” Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. “Confident?”
“I’m okay,” said Harry. It was sort of true; he was nervous, but he kept running over all the hexes and spells he had been practicing in his mind as they walked, and the knowledge that he could remember them all made him feel better.
They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.
Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.
“We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze.” Said Professor McGonagall to the champions. “If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?”
The champions nodded.
“Off you go, then!” Said Bagman brightly to the four patrollers.
“Good luck, Harry.” Hagrid whispered, and the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, “Sonorus,” and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each—Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!” The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. “In second place, with eighty points—Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!” More applause. “And in third place—Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!”
Harry could just make out Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron, and Hermione applauding Fleur politely, halfway up the stands. He waved up at them, and they waved back, beaming at him.
“So... On my whistle, Harry and Cedric!” said Bagman. “Three—two—one—”
He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurried forward into the maze.
The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. Harry felt almost as though he were underwater again. He pulled out his wand, muttered, “Lumos,” and heard Cedric do the same just behind him.
After about fifty yards, they reached a fork. They looked at each other.
“See you,” Harry said, and he took the left one, while Cedric took the right.
Harry heard Bagman’s whistle for the second time. Viktor had entered the maze. Harry sped up. His chosen path seemed completely deserted. He turned right, and hurried on, holding his wand high over his head, trying to see as far ahead as possible. Still, there was nothing in sight.
Bagman’s whistle blew in the distance for the third time. All of the champions were now inside.
Harry kept looking behind him. The old feeling that he was being watched was upon him. The maze was growing darker with every passing minute as the sky overhead deepened to navy. He reached a second fork.
“Point Me.” He whispered to his wand, holding it flat in his palm.
The wand spun around once and pointed toward his right, into solid hedge. That way was north, and he knew that he needed to go northwest for the center of the maze. The best he could do was to take the left fork and go right again as soon as possible.
The path ahead was empty too, and when Harry reached a right turn and took it, he again found his way unblocked. Harry didn’t know why, but the lack of obstacles was unnerving him. Surely he should have met something by now? It felt as though the maze were luring him into a false sense of security. Then he heard movement right behind him. He held out his wand, ready to attack, but its beam fell only upon Cedric, who had just hurried out of a path on the right-hand side. Cedric looked severely shaken. The sleeve of his robe was smoking.
“Hagrid’s Blast-Ended Skrewts!” He hissed. “They’re enormous—I only just got away!”
He shook his head and dived out of sight, along another path.
Keen to put plenty of distance between himself and the Skrewts, Harry hurried off again. Then, as he turned a corner, he saw a Dementor gliding toward him. Twelve feet tall, its face hidden by its hood, its rotting, scabbed hands outstretched, it advanced, sensing its way blindly toward him. Harry could hear its rattling breath; he felt clammy coldness stealing over him, but knew what he had to do…
He summoned the happiest thought he could, concentrated with all his might on the thought of getting out of the maze and celebrating with Ron and Hermione, raised his wand, and cried, “Expecto Patronum!”
A silver stag erupted from the end of Harry’s wand and galloped toward the Dementor, which fell back and tripped over the hem of its robes… Harry had never seen a Dementor stumble.
“Hang on!” he shouted, advancing in the wake of his silver Patronus. “You’re a boggart! Riddikulus!”
There was a loud crack, and the shape-shifter exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver stag faded from sight. Harry wished it could have stayed, he could have used some company… But he moved on, quickly and quietly as possible, listening hard, his wand held high once more.
‘Good work. You didn’t even need my help with that.’ Shiloe commented, impressed.
‘I do know how to do SOME things, you know.’ Harry thought back, a little insulted.
Left… Right… Left again… Twice he found himself facing dead ends. He did the Four-Point Spell again and found that he was going too far east. He turned back, took a right turn, and saw an odd golden mist floating ahead of him.
Harry approached it cautiously, pointing the wand’s beam at it.
This looked like some kind of enchantment. He wondered whether he might be able to blast it out of the way.
‘Don’t bother.’ Shiloe drawled. ‘It’ll go right through. Just walk through it. Whatever it does, it can’t be fatal.’
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Promoting the Gryffindor approach?” He muttered under his breath, walking forward hesitantly.
‘Yes, well, sometimes charging in IS the right approach. It’s the only sure way to figure out what this does, so—‘
Shiloe’s monologue ended in a rather girly scream as Harry stepped through the mist—and the world flipped upside-down. Harry was hanging from the ground, with his hair on end, his glasses dangling off his nose, threatening to fall into the bottomless sky. He clutched them to the end of his nose and hung there, terrified. It felt as though his feet were glued to the grass, which had now become the ceiling. Below him the dark, star-spangled heavens stretched endlessly. He felt as though if he tried to move one of his feet, he would fall away from the earth completely.
Harry laughed as Shiloe nervously cleared his throat.
‘Yes, very funny, I screamed like a little girl, I admit it. Just never tell anyone about this, please.’ Shiloe requested in resignation. ‘There are some secrets we’ll have to trust each other with, after all. Keep this one for me, and I’ll keep whatever secrets you want, from whoever you want.’
“So, how do I fix this?” Harry asked aloud, before a scream shattered the silence. “Fleur?” Harry yelled.
Silence.
‘Um, I’d try walking. Carefully. I’m pretty sure gravity still works the right way. You haven’t fallen into the sky, at least.’ Shiloe pointed out.
Harry shut his eyes, so he wouldn’t be able to see the view of endless space below him, and pulled his right foot as hard as he could away from the grassy ceiling.
Immediately, the world righted itself.
“Thank Merlin!” Harry and Shiloe breathed together.
Shiloe laughed breathily. ‘So, that was fun, let’s never do it again.’
Harry nodded. ‘What do you think happened to Fleur?’ He asked Shiloe.
‘I don’t know, and I don’t care much, Harry. Worry about getting yourself through this alive and intact.’ Shiloe sniped at him.
‘Geez, forget I asked!’ Harry snapped back.
They came to an intersection and Harry stopped, hearing someone coming.
Viktor began heading his way, and Harry heard Shiloe snarl.
“What—“
‘Someone put the Imperius curse on my ANCHOR!’ Shiloe’s voice was cold and hard. ‘Sorry, Harry, this’ll only take a moment.’
Suddenly, Harry was watching his own life again, as Shiloe took control, and grabbed Viktor’s robes.
Harry cleared his throat nervously as Shiloe placed his mouth firmly over Viktor’s. He faintly felt a pulling sensation from somewhere deep within his stomach, and then Shiloe broke the kiss, and breathed out a dense mist. “Are you okay?” Shiloe asked.
Viktor blinked a few times, bemused. “Vhat happened?” He asked.
Shiloe snarled. “Someone had you under the Imperius. I got rid of it, for now.”
Viktor nodded. “Thank you. I vill head this vay.” He said, taking the path to his left.
Shiloe nodded, and Harry was back in control. He took the path straight ahead.
He came to another four-way intersection and turned left—dead end. He went back and went forward, following the path to—another dead end. “Fuck.” He muttered, jogging back to the intersection and taking the only path he hadn’t yet tried.
Then he rounded another corner and found himself facing a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
Cedric was right—it WAS enormous. Ten feet long, it looked more like a giant scorpion than anything. Its long sting was curled over its back. Its thick armor glinted in the light from Harry’s wand, which he pointed at it.
“Stupefy!” The spell bounced off the carapace of the Skrewt and Harry blinked.
‘Well, that didn’t work.’
“Thanks.” Harry shot back as the Skrewt, now focused firmly on him, headed his way. “Impedimenta!”
‘Try hitting its belly! The stomach! It’s got to have SOME weak point!’ Shiloe screamed at Harry.
Harry rolled onto the ground and came up nearly underneath the Skrewt, aiming his wand up. “Impedimenta!”
The Skrewt froze and Harry got up, running around it and continuing down the path. He ran until he was fairly certain it wouldn’t chase him that far and took a turn just to be safe, before doing the four-point spell again.
He hurried on once he’d gotten his bearings again, knowing that he had to be getting close to the cup.
Harry noticed it was getting rather dark, so he must be near the center of the maze now. He suddenly stopped, faced with something he’d never thought to see.
It was a sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion: great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head, however, was that of a woman. She turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Harry as he approached. He raised his wand, hesitating. She was not crouching as if to spring, but pacing from side to side of the path, blocking his progress. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.
“You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me.”
“So... So will you move, please?” Asked Harry, knowing what the answer was going to be.
“No,” she said, continuing to pace. “Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess—I let you pass. Answer wrongly—I attack. Remain silent—I will let you walk away from me unscathed.”
Harry’s stomach slipped several notches. It was Hermione who was good at this sort of thing, not him. He weighed his chances. If the riddle was too hard, he could keep silent, get away from the sphinx unharmed, and try and find an alternative route to the center.
‘I can help. I should be able to answer it. Just give me time to think it through and trust me.’ Shiloe told him.
“Okay,” Harry said. “Can I hear the riddle?”
The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very middle of the path, and recited:
“Poor people have it.
Rich people need it.
If you eat it, you die.
What is it?”
Shiloe huffed. ‘Okay, give me a minute.’
Harry stood, thinking furiously, unable to come up with an answer. He stared at the sphinx, who stared impassively back, a small smile playing on her lips.
‘Can’t be money.’ Shiloe mused. ‘Although eating it WOULD kill you, it doesn’t fit the other two parts…’
Harry closed his eyes, praying to whatever force would listen to him that he didn’t end up giving her a wrong answer.
‘The answer is NOTHING!’ Shiloe finally declared.
Harry opened his eyes and gulped, trying to decide how much he trusted Shiloe.
‘You should trust me with your life.’ Shiloe drawled. ‘If you die, I die. Remember?’
Harry decided that it was time to trust Shiloe. “Nothing?” He squeaked.
The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside for him to pass.
“Thanks!” said Harry, and, amazed at Shiloe’s brilliance, he dashed forward.
He had to be close now, he had to be. His wand was telling him he was bang on course; as long as he didn’t meet anything too horrible, he might have a chance.
Harry broke into a run. He had a choice of paths up ahead.
“Point Me!” he whispered again to his wand, and it spun around and pointed him to the right-hand one. He dashed up this one and saw light ahead.
The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away.
Suddenly a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of him.
Cedric was going to get there first. Cedric was sprinting as fast as he could toward the cup, and Harry knew he would never catch up, Cedric was much taller, had much longer legs—
Then Harry saw something immense over a hedge to his left, moving quickly along a path that intersected with his own; it was moving so fast Cedric was about to run into it, and Cedric, his eyes on the cup, had not seen it—
“Cedric!” Harry bellowed. “On your left!”
Cedric looked around just in time to hurl himself past the thing and avoid colliding with it, but in his haste, he tripped. Harry saw Cedric’s wand fly out of his hand as a gigantic spider stepped into the path and began to bear down upon Cedric.
“Stupefy!” Harry yelled; the spell hit the spider’s gigantic, hairy black body, but for all the good it did, he might as well have thrown a stone at it; the spider jerked, scuttled around, and ran at Harry instead.
“Stupefy! Impedimenta! Stupefy!”
‘Aim for its underbelly! Underbelly!’ Shiloe was screaming in distress.
Harry had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon him.
He was lifted into the air in its front legs; struggling madly, he tried to kick it; his leg connected with the pincers and next moment he was in excruciating pain. He could hear Cedric yelling “Stupefy!” too, but his spell had no more effect than Harry’s—
Harry raised his wand as the spider opened its pincers once more and shouted “Expelliarmus!”
It worked—the Disarming Spell made the spider drop him, but that meant that Harry fell twelve feet onto his already injured leg, which crumpled beneath him. Without pausing to think, he aimed high at the spider’s underbelly, as Shiloe advised, and shouted “Stupefy!” just as Cedric yelled the same thing.
The two spells combined did what one alone had not: The spider keeled over sideways, flattening a nearby hedge, and strewing the path with a tangle of hairy legs.
Harry took a deep breath and sighed. “Thank Merlin!” He got up, wobbling slightly—his leg was throbbing.
Cedric glanced over at the cup. “Um… So, since we’re both here, who gets the cup?”
Harry looked at the cup and Shiloe growled. ‘Something’s not right about it. I can see a spell on it—two, actually—and while one is Dumbledore’s, the other isn’t. Something is wrong.’
“Don’t touch it!” Harry told Cedric. “Shiloe says something is wrong with it! There’s two spells on it, and only one is Dumbledore’s.”
Cedric looked at him. “Do you think it’s part of the Task?”
Harry shook his head. “No. I think someone’s tampered with it. Listen, since we’re both here, let me take it. I’ve got Shiloe to help me if it turns out to be something bad, and I’ll give you the prize money if it’s not. That way, you’ll still be able to get your Healer training.”
Cedric bit his lip. “I suppose. If you’re sure.”
Harry nodded, getting up and walking over to the cup. “Either way, I’ll see you soon.” He said, and then grabbed the cup.
Instantly, Harry felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground. He could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup; it was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, and he realized what had happened—the Triwizard Cup had been turned into a Portkey.
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