Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Dark Knight	By : xDAISUKIx Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 53703 -:- 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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Apologies for the overlong author's note, just slightly less than 600 words.

moodysavage & emma elizabeth pressnel: Your reviews made me want to laugh too :D

LightningStrike: Wow, your review was amazing. Glad to hear that I can persuade people who don’t necessarily like this genre to...like it. :P Your story is amazing too, btw, the first chapter, being so short, could put some people off though. XD

APPLECHAN: I think the main attraction of Snape is that he is a snarky bastard- and so unbelievably clueless. Which is why, twisted me thinks he is utterly ADORABLE. *snuggles.

Woodlandspirit: My sentiments exactly. Although, I did end his confusion quickly- though Snape confronting Harry about it would be delicious, I can’t bring myself to write it... It would slow down the main plot a lot.

unneeded: That made me think of Snape brewing wolfsbane in secret and then shoving it down Harry’s throat when the fullmoon begins... *licks icecream O.O

oh, that question is answered in chapter 12.

still reading but:

Well. Okay, I’ll extend this reply to all those who also may be confused about ‘How Harry knew he was Scáth and how he got the power used in chapter 4’:

You may notice that in chapter 3, there is a time skip from when Harry first wakes up and when he’s inside Madam Malkin’s.

I DID skip the whole confrontation that occurred (probably) between the scenes because frankly, I thought it would be boring. I’m pretty sure everyone would know Hermione’s and Ron’s reactions.

Or if that doesn’t work: Imagine what happens within your brain.

PROMPT: You are Hermione, Harry has just been through a COMA and needs help.

PROMPT: You are Ron, Harry has just become 6’2, taller than you- and in six days, I might add.

As for the powers: Some powers are NOT learnt, they are within the mind of the caster. But, that is for later chapters. It wasn’t really a power either, more like a skill that ALL Scáth have- the ability to manipulate shadows.

He know knows the basics about Scáth, but unfortunately he is still very unknowledgeable- SPOILER! Harry will take ‘lessons’ on Scáth and Scáth behaviour, much will be revealed ;)

jujukitty: Unfortunately, right now, Harry’s fortune doesn’t mean anything important- just another load of bullcrap from Divination.

DB1: Nice to see you again :D I read your review seconds before I was about to post the new chapter- which was delayed by me writing this.

Main Story Idea and betaed by the lovely: SuirenAngel

Written by the egotistical: NeuroticNeko

This contains no Dumbledore bashing (and he’s still alive), no Weasley bashing. This is boyxboy.

ALL OF HARRY’S MATES ARE MALE

If you don‘t know what that means then you shouldn’t be here.

Sebastian Bainbridge sat stiffly in the Great Hall at lunch.

With an emotion he couldn’t express- aversion? Embarrassment? Awe? He watched as the boy he had caught- doing that- walk with big strides into the room. Feeling extremely awkward, he picked up his goblet of water carefully and downed it in one go.

To the left, another professor was doing the same.

~

Snape had fixed his eyes onto the Boy-Who-Lived as soon as he had set that first step inside. His thoughts, normally uncluttered, extremely categorized and neatly stored in boxes, were jumpy and flittering about in his head.

If what Dumbledore had said was true...

He quickly picked up his goblet and drank it all, ignoring the overly sweet flavour of the pumpkin juice.

As it clinked on the table, he noticed that another professor had slammed his drink down.

The young professor, a half Greek half British pureblood with fluffy brown hair that the girls adored from the first day.

Snape calmed the sneer that had threatened to take over his face and went back to staring idly at the boy.

There were the usual characteristics of a dominant: aura, power, leadership, stature- not to say that there were never short dominants, but they usually got a ‘second puberty’ to boost their height.

Snape couldn’t stop the annoyed grimace that flittered across his features. Great, the Golden Boy became more special.

The worst thing was, Snape wasn’t allowed to do anything about it. If Potter got unnecessarily violent, he was only allowed to cast a mid level body bind charm and take him to Dumbledore.

He could almost envision the countless hours he could have spent ordering Potter to scrub the cauldrons...or rather, the whole duelling hall...

“Severus?”

Snape’s eyebrows rose and he turned to the right a little, to face the musical voice of Professor Sinistra.

“Aurora”

The olive skinned woman lifted an eyebrow in turn.

“You and Sebastian there, you both seem to be deeply engrossed in something. In fact, I’d say it was the same thing”

Snape took a furtive glance at the chestnut-haired next to him. Bainbridge was indeed fixated on something. Curious, Snape followed the man’s gaze.

It was a group of Gryffindors sitting at the far end of the House table. Snape frowned, there was really only one person that stood out, and that was Potter...

And that had been exactly where he had been looking

Snape narrowed his eyes. Why would the new Potion’s professor be interested in The-Boy-Who-Lived? He’d thought that those who lived in Greece were rather distanced from the whole prophecy fixation.

(Author: Snape should really be thinking why he would be interested in the Boy-Who-Lived)

“Well, I don’t dare to guess what Professor Bainbridge is gazing at... but I was looking at that vase over there. Rather... nice”

Sinistra gave him an odd look that seemed to say, ‘There are no vases in the Great Hall...”

-But Snape was now concentrating on his dinner, finally picking up the fork which he hadn’t touched since lunch began.

The rest of the week passed without great incident, unless you counted Seamus blowing up his eighth duelling partner with a badly aimed bat-boogie hex. Snape, who seemed to have gained new levels of vindictiveness after the episode with Harry, gave Seamus detention, and Seamus returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to wax the hall floors and walls many, many times because of Snape’s eye for miniscule smudges on the walls.

“You know why Snape’s in such a foul mood don’t you?” said Ron to Harry, as they watched Hermione teaching Seamus the proper wand movement for the spell.

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Ron, I already told you-”

“Yeah, yea” Ron waved him off, “whatever”

Harry frowned, he’d been feeling increasingly irritated the whole week- like something had been niggling him at the back of his mind, unwilling to be forgotten but also unwilling to present itself to his mind’s eye.

He scratched the back of his head.

“Look, me and ‘Mione are going to go to Hogsmeade, are you coming?”

“Go” Harry said, dropping his arms to his side and looking slightly annoyed.

Seamus and Hermione looked up from where they were still practicing and looked anxiously at Harry.

He sighed, “Sorry guys, I-I’m fine, just don’t feel like going”

“Sure, Harry” Hermione assured Harry, “You don’t have to go”

At noon, Ron, Hermione and Seamus all left for Hogsmeade and Harry waved them off, feeling like he should have gone. Lead by professor McGonagall, the huge crowd left the school’s front gate, prattling excitedly.

Harry shrunk back into the shadows, feeling better in the darkness.

Staring after the quickly disappearing backs of his friends, Harry never noticed the small shadow that curled up from the large darkness that resided under the large clock in the courtyard and wrapped itself around his foot.

He never knew what had caused him to feel strangely calm, but it had, and he slunk back to the Gryffindor dorms.

The winds were peaceful tonight and when Hermione and Ron came back, Harry couldn’t hide the small niggling feeling. It was like... like needing something, not something big, like a hug or something...but not realising something. Like some small part of him in the back of his mind wanted to do something- realise something-find anything.

But what?

As he had done every night that week, Harry left on his clothes as the rest of Gryffindor tower went to sleep and silently crept out of the portrait hole. He pulled his invisibility cloak over him and walked silently through the eerily silent halls of the school.

As he came upon the bank of the lake, he saw Ryr staring at him.

Harry jolted in shock.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shitshitshit!

Harry fell a cold chill freeze his muscles, creeping up from his feet until it completely enveloped his limbs. Harry felt his face freeze into a mask of normalcy, while his heart hammered painfully in his chest.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

“Carion? Are you okay? You seem... off” warm brown eyes, flecked with gold peered into his and Harry fought back the urge to rip the naiad’s eyes out.

He was playing with him. Ryr, the naiad in the lake that he had only met this week was making fun of him trying to make Harry feel safe, and then most likely sell him out to a reporter with enough cash to buy a mansion. To make Harry think that nothing was out of the norm.

Except, there was no malice in the clear, open face of the naiad. No tensing of the muscles- any outward sign that Ryr was tricking him.

But- ah, there it was the small widening of the eyes, the small intake of breath audible in the dark silence of the night.

Ryr had seen him

In his unchanged state

Ryr knew

Ryr was shocked- awed maybe.

But Harry didn’t want awed. He wanted ordinary friendship- not the usual wonder and admiration that the title of Boy-Who-Lived and Defeater-of-the-Bald-Guy seemed to encourage.

Harry felt his heart wrench painfully as he felt the unlikely friendship he had built over the past week be shredded to pieces.

Unknowingly, Harry put a hand on his chest, trying to grasp the pained beating.

Searing pain, in white hot pricks, stabbed into Harry’s torso and streaked through him, making him dizzy. He looked down blurrily, in pain; only to see large, clawed hands: talons digging inch deep into his chest. He fell to his knees, more from the dizzying sense of relief that the pain.

“Carion!”

Harry heard wet splashes as the lightly green naiad rushed to his side, pulling Harry’s arms until they rested on both shoulders.

“Carion, what happened?”

Ryr slapped Harry on both sides of his face.

“I-I’m fine”

Ryr looked down at his chest, frowning.

“Why did you do that?” He gestured at the large puncture wounds on Harry’s chest.

“U-Uhm... I pressed to hard?” Harry blushed. That sounded so stupid.

Ryr lightly whacked him on the back. “As if”

But he didn’t press further; instead, he seemed to contemplate something before stepping back and scrutinizing the space around Harry.

“Carion..?”

Harry, still shaken and lightly bleeding, said “Yeah” before staggering a bit.

Ryr seemed to not notice.

“Was anything... following you?” he said slowly, his eyes flickering back and forth.

Harry, smelling his own blood, shook his head queasily.

Ryr shifted on his feet, “I could’ve sworn- never mind”

Harry’s world spun dangerously.

Ryr’s eyes widened as he dashed forward and caught Harry’s weakening form with both arms. Gently, he sat him down and felt the bleeding gashes on his friend’s chest. With barely a sound, he sat down on the edge of the lake and whistled. Harry struggled to keep his eyes open as the blood loss started to make him drowsy.

Without warning, a monstrous shadow fell over him and Harry was like a deer caught in the headlights.

Lake water cascaded off a gigantic tentacle, skin gleaming in the moonlight. The appendage swung down, missing Harry by an inch.

“Maisie!”

Harry lifted his head up weakly to see a very cross Ryr, which was kind of cute- but mostly scary. Ryr lifted his arms and ribbons of water rose from the lake, eel-like forms of water twisted themselves around the nearest slimy limb.

The humongous limbs of the giant squid -Maisie- stopped torpedoing around the air and fell limply back under the rippling waters of the Great Lake and Ryr climbed gently onto the remaining tentacle that poked out of the water, lying on the lakeside- next to Harry’s wet hair (Maisie was a little enthusiastic in drenching him).

The tentacle withdrew from land and Harry watched in horror as his friend disappeared beneath the lake.

Ryr was a naiad, he reasoned with himself but a spasm wracked his torso as his bodily functions tried to clot the blood, to stop the bleeding.

For Merlin’s sake, he thought, the most useful skill a Scáth has the ability to inflict endlessly bleeding wounds on the foe... not themselves.

He shuddered as a cold hand fell upon his chest.

Even in his weakened state, his Scáth instincts screamed at him to remove that hand and push the other male onto the ground but he was physically too exhausted to do anything.

A moment later, the waters parted around a slippery limb and a pile of sweet smelling goop splattered onto the ground next to him.

A bit of it landed in his mouth and he spat it out, disgusted.

It smelled like lilies and daisies but tasted like absolute shite.

The still-wet naiad scolded the squid, “Gently” and then scooped up some of the deceivingly nice-smelling mixture and pressed it gently onto Harry’s wounds.

Harry lay comfortably on the tall grass, his wounds had stopped bleeding and his blood was replenished with a kelp-like thing that he had eaten without complaint.

His mind refused to acknowledge the thought that that couldn’t have been what Ryr had claimed it to be.

It had tasted like spices and carrots.

His mind wandered away but was brought back by a small tap on the shoulder.

“Carion?”

“Hmm?”

“Was there something troubling you?”

Harry froze, but then forced himself to relax. When he opened his mouth, he talked instead about another thing that he had meant to talk to Ryr about.

“This week... I’ve been feeling weird- every day”

“How?”

“’Dunno, just feels like something’s missing”

Harry heard a small intake of breath before Ryr’s face, with its curly kelp hair and pointed ears, hovered above his.

Harry looked up into the clear gaze and his breath froze in his lungs. The air pressed down on him as Ryr’s eyes locked with his. Ryr seemed to be expecting something as he leaned forward and let his hair and breaths mix with the ebony creature beneath him.

Harry felt his breath whoosh out of him as his Scáth rose from the back of his mind, like a predator. His gaze darkened as he watched the face of the other. Ryr’s lips opened lightly to breathe and Harry’s eyes zeroed in on the soft pink flesh. He trembled under the combined weight of Ryr’s gaze and his own arousal. Which shook him to the core. But he couldn’t help it when his eyes returned for another look at the parted lips. He ripped his gaze away however, as thoughts of plundering those lips and that mouth drowned all other reasoning within him.

Harry only heard a small sigh as the naiad rolled away from him and settled into the soft grass.

“You should go”

As Harry fell into his bed and pulled his covers over himself, he realised with horror that he had basically transformed into a Scáth without any effort, without any of the pain, without warning.

What would happen?

What would happen now that Harry wasn’t aware of the change? Couldn’t feel it anymore?

Would he not know that he had changed and then would he walk into the class a monster with sharp claws and teeth?

Harry buried his head under his pillow, which muffled his groan.

He tried to settle his thoughts, to calm his heart beat and focus on the cool night breeze which flowed through the small crack in the window Harry had left open as soon as he had come into the Boy’s dorms.

His crotch throbbed as he thought of his erotic late night encounter with the enticing naiad of Great Lake.

He thought of putting his hands in those wavy tresses and then pulling that head towards him, feeling the way those lips as they-

No

He couldn’t go further.

Hermione and Ron pulled him out of the Gryffindor common room the next Saturday morning and plopped him down onto a chair.

Today, Harry had wisely tucked his tail to the side.

Before the tables filled with food, the morning owls flew across the room and dropped a small white envelope onto Harry’s empty plate.

Dear Harry Potter,

Your visit to the establishment of Gringotts is due to the morrow.

Yours faithfully,

Kordsik Goldhand

Harry hastily folded it up and tucked it into his robes before the dishes filled with toast. Hermione and Ron both looked at him curiously and Hermione cleared her throat before gently asking Harry who it was from.

“My appointment at Gringotts is due tomorrow”

Their gazes didn’t clear any but Hermione furrowed her brows as she struggled to rifle through the cryptic messages Harry had given her shortly after his first visit to Gringotts.

“Harry, if it’s anything life threatening-”

Harry raised his hand and cut her off.

“It’s just Scáth business”

Ron finished chewing his mouthful and looked worriedly at his best friend.

“Does the Headmaster know?”

Harry rolled the question around in his head. He hadn’t told Dumbledore anything, but knowing him, he probably knew everything regarding Harry’s ‘official business’.

“Pretty sure he does” Harry shrugged.

Hermione looked a little more relieved at the thought and warned Harry that if he was lying, she’d cursed each and every one of his socks.

Ron paled and tried to calm his glaring girlfriend before things got too out of hand.

“I’m sure Harry knows what he’s doing, right, Harry?” Ron looked between his girlfriend and his best mate.

“’Course I do!” Harry retorted, pushing his uneasiness to the back of his mind.

Hermione calmed slightly and reached for a slice of orange.

“You better come back without even a scratch on your head, Harry” she warned, before picking up a couple of grapefruit slices and placing them onto Ron’s plate.

“Eat it” She said, as she saw the look of consternation on Ron’s face.

Harry pulled together a respectable outfit rather hastily, a white under shirt, black waistcoat and black trousers before pulling on the dark green outer robes he had bought at Madam Malkin’s for formal occasions.

It didn’t particularly scream ‘Heir of Two Noble Families’ but according to Kreacher they had looked like what an heir might wear on extremely casual occasions.

With slight hesitation, Harry pulled on a tie and while no one was looking, plucked one of the smaller flowers from the fixed vase in the common room and tucked it into his top waistcoat pocket.

There, Kreacher would say it looked a little more like a casual meeting between business partners now.

He fixed his tie in the mirror and swept out of the common room, striding past many portraits that ooh-ed and aah-ed as Harry flashed what he tried to think of as his most charming smile. It worked, from what the female portraits were doing.

(Putting the back of their hands on their foreheads and swooning)

Harry saw a bony hand gesture to him from within one painting of a disgruntled flutist. Harry, curious, walked closer to see the sharp face of one Phineas Nigellus Black.

“Phineas” Harry said, dipping his head.

The portrait sniffed rather loudly and waited for Harry to straighten his body before Phineas’s face cracked into a wide smile.

“Ehehehehe! Such a handsome heir”

Harry tried to smile, remembering exactly how Phineas had thought of him before he had inherited the Black family vaults.

The portrait rubbed his hands together excitedly, “You’re getting the potion today, aren’t you, my boy?”

Harry nodded and the man in the painting cackled, “The wizard who defeated You-Know-Who, my Heir! Oh this is good, this is great! That broad even dared suggesting that my line would die out! Ha-ha!”

Harry smiled wanly and watched with relief as the man waved goodbye and disappeared, presumably to visit one of his other portraits. The flutist who had been resting peacefully within his own painting waved a particularly foul hand movement at the disappearing back of Phineas Nigellus Black.

Harry shook his head and resumed his walk to the Great Hall.

As he walked in, the whole hall turned in their seats to look at him, open-mouthed, Harry ducked down to his table, grabbed two slices of toast and hurried back out, feeling the stares burning holes into his robes.

The whole hall erupted in sound.

Merlin! Did you see what he was wearing?

Damn, Potter’s such a ladies’ man. None left for us.

Where do you think he was going?

I wish he had looked at me! Green suits him~

Oh, look. Pansy’s fainted- and Romilda too.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin tables all had similar expressions of shock. Gryffindor because they had never seen Harry like that and Slytherin because they had never thought that the Saviour, already lifted to levels of hotness on par to Draco’s, was now wearing formal robes (all Slytherins were partial to formal robes) and looking like a powerful pureblood heir (they were partial to power too, duh).

Harry all but ran out of the front gate, where he presented the guards with the permission slip he had gotten from Dumbledore that morning and as soon as he was out of the Hogwarts wards, he apparated to the closest apparition point possible.

Stopping just outside of the double doors of Gringotts, Harry straightened his ruffled robes and as he was just about to knock, the mahogany doors opened and a small face peered up at him.

“Mr. Potter?”

Harry nodded.

“Mr. Goldhand is waiting for you in his office”

The goblin set off at a fast trot and Harry tried to walk quickly, without looking like he was running and attempting to look graceful at the same time. Eventually, they came upon the large chamber that led to the Head Goblin’s room and the small goblin that had lead Harry here bowed slightly and opened the door.

“Mr. Potter. You’re early” The goblin raised a silvery eyebrow, “Well, it’s a lot better than your father. Liked to be fashionably late for... everything”

The goblin cast another look at the Heir of Potter and Black.

“Nicely done, your attire”

Harry grinned and sat into the proffered chair.

Goldhand shuffled through his papers and handed Harry an official-looking document.

“Sign this”

Harry scanned his eyes over the parchment, wrinkling his brows, he enquired politely, “Why would I be in the need of medics?”

“Just sign it, Mr. Potter. It’s all for your safety”

Harry picked up the goose feather quill from his right and dipped it into the ink. He scrawled his best Harry J. Potter, struggling to not blot the paper. The goblin raised an eyebrow at the signature. Without a word, he handed Harry the exact same parchment, with no signature.

When Harry asked why, Goldhand gestured at the air around Harry.

“What are you? Not the Heir of two powerful houses? Please, Mr. Potter. Have some tact”

Harry blushed and dipped the quill back into the pot. Slowly, and with what he hoped was gracefulness, he wrote, H. J. Potter-Black.

The Head Goblin ran an appraising eye over Harry’s handiwork.

“You, my friend, are in serious need of training... in everything”

When Harry made a move to snatch the paper back, the goblin added, “This is acceptable”

Harry acquiesced but clutched his quill a fraction tighter. Merlin, this was embarrassing.

Goldhand got up from his chair and Harry moved to do the same. They both exited the Head Goblin’s office and Goldhand gestured to his apprentice. Moments later, the apprentice hurried back with a small vial and Goldhand waved him off.

“Igneous, helpful little fellow” the goblin commented, before sweeping out of the chamber, Harry followed.

“Where is this place?” Harry enquired, liking the cool darkness; as he had become prone to over the last couple of days. Shadows were nice, they wrapped around you and kept you cool, comfortably so.

“A cell”

“Why would there be a cell in Gringotts?”

“We used to be a prison before Azkaban was built. Some of these cells are still in use, but only for those individuals who have cursed themselves to inhabit inanimate objects. Dementors can’t kiss those ones”

Harry nodded; vaults were rather like prison cells anyway.

Goldhand produced a small rusted bronze key and tinkled around with the slot, before the great doors opened with a groan. Without warning, he pulled Harry by the sleeve and dragged him to the back of the cavernous dungeon-like cell.

“Wha-” But he was cut off as the goblin thrust his hands and feet into manacles he hadn’t noticed before.

“What are you doing?” Harry tested the chains with his magic. Unexpectedly, he found intricate spells woven within each other. They tasted of thousands of different auras, but the newest and strongest smelled like oranges and vanilla.

“What are these?”

Goldhand looked suspiciously at him. “What was the name of my apprentice?”

Harry struggled to remember and didn’t question why Goldhand would need to ask him this question.

“Igneous”

Goldhand visibly relaxed.

“Chains that suppress Scáth magic”

“Why would I need them?”

The goblin didn’t answer, except to levitate the small uncapped vial that was held aloft by some branch of unknown goblin magic.

“Open up”

Harry eyed the small crystal vial; its contents were a bright crimson and smelled like the finest wine in the world. The vial nudged his lips and Harry closed his eyes and took a breath- and of course Goldhand took the opportunity to tip the contents of the vial down Harry’s throat.

The smooth liquid burned its way down Harry’s oesophagus, his body tried to regurgitate that liquid, but it slipped down steadily.

Harry stared, wide eyed, at the goblin. Goldhand took a step back.

Review!! Ahah~ this is the beginning.

Cya~

Nekro Kitty

NEXT CHAPTER: WHAT WILL HAPPEN?
- 8
- 9
- 10
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